Chapter Text
When the world broke open, it started quietly.
A balance was tipped, and then flipped, and the walls between the realms had begun to fall, leaving all those to roam as they wished.
One after another, whole realms were swallowed up by the Darkness, now set free from her cage, tipping the scales in ways that meant balance was no longer possible. What had once been unimagined, happened daily.
Eventually, slowly, the scales began to tip back, the Endless working tirelessly to restore the connections between the universes. It was achieved because they could not fail, but the walls remained thin.
Dream watched, aiding his siblings where he could, and stared at the boundaries between worlds as they slowly no longer presented a threat or an ability to keep the realms separate.
When the Fae, under a furious Titania, aligned with Lucifer, still seeking vengeance, to attack the Dreaming, they had a very slim chance of standing, and surviving on their own.
Nonetheless, Dream of the Endless would not let the Dreaming fall without a fight.
~!~
Hob was exhausted, but he knew, he knew, that it was nothing compared to the exhaustion that he knew was dragging down Dream.
Every possible moment of the last four days, he'd spent sleeping, and knocking himself back out to sleep after chugging water and scarfing down as much food as he could stomach, but it wasn't enough. Every time he left the Dreaming, Dream was in the middle of a fight, planning their next battle, or entering it. Whenever he arrived, he rejoined the battle immediately.
Hob was starting to feel the effects of it, but as he stood, side by side with Dream, a dirty blade in his hand as Dream barked impatient orders at Nightmares and Dreams who came and went, the same exhaustion showing on their faces that Dream did, Hob, for the first time in days, worried. Worried that it wouldn't be enough, that Dream's plans were getting more and more desperate, that, even as Endless, he was wearing down and losing ground in the war he fought.
He straightened and offered a tired smile when Dream turned his eyes to him. Hob had to bite down the noise of concern that wanted to escape. The bags under Dream's eyes were almost purple and the tiredness was a palpable air around him. Hob took a step forward, but Dream shook his head.
"You need to leave," Dream said, not for the first time in days. "You cannot continue to stand with us. You need to go with the other Dreamers."
Hob, just like he had every time Dream had demanded this over the past few days, shook his head. "I'm not leaving you. I'm not going to leave you, Dream."
Dream growled and glared at Hob Gadling. "You cannot-"
"I can," Hob snapped back. "If you kick me out of the Dreaming, I'll come right back." He could see the fury in Dream's eyes at the pushback because he'd spent hours doing almost exactly that when the fighting had started to get worse and they had lost a whole battalion of Nightmares to a trap set by Hell.
"You have to stay safe," Dream said, his voice softening. "I need you to stay safe."
"Love I cannot die," Hob reminded Dream, stepping in closer, despite the way his face twisted. "I am not afraid of what could happen to me, please believe that."
Dream clenched his eyes shut and reached out to cup Hob Gadling's cheeks in his palms, pulling him in for a hard kiss. "I fear for you," he admitted. "I fear your capture, your torture at the hands of those who would take the Dreaming for themselves."
"I am not leaving you," Hob growled, glaring at Dream, even as his husband stole another kiss, and then another kiss. "You are not going to make me leave you."
Dream exhaled slowly, pressing their foreheads together. "You cannot stay."
"Like hell I can't," Hob snarled, about to yell at Dream for even thinking what he was talking about, let alone- He froze when Dream kissed him once more and he tasted salt, his eyes focusing on the tear tracks running down Dream's face.
"I love you," Dream whispered. "But your dream is over."
Hob shouted, grabbing at the phantom of nothing that dissolved in front of him. He sat up in bed seconds later and felt more awake than he had in centuries, despite the number of drugs in his system. He pushed shaky fingers through his hair and tried to breathe as he clenched his eyes shut. King Consort of the Dreaming, and there was nothing he could do, Dream was going to fight on his own and-
Hob paused and stared at the wall in front of him.
He tilted his head a fraction, reaching to the bedside table where his phone was. He flipped through contacts as quickly as he did and hit call, not bothering to look at the clock, or move from the bed. His hand was shaking, but Hob held the phone as still as he dared, waiting, waiting, waiting.
"Why, Mr. Gadling! It has been far too long! How might I help you?"
Hob wanted to laugh at the sound of Mr. Fell's cheerful voice through the phone. "If I were to hand you an unaccounted-for copy of a Gutenberg bible, with personal certification that it is what I say it is, and I called in every favor you have ever owed me, would you do something for me?"
Mr. Fell was worryingly quiet for several long minutes before he asked, his voice carrying an odd ringing to it that had hope surging in Hob's chest.
"What favor?"
Hob swallowed, tears filling his eyes. "I need a miracle. I need to save my husband, and the Dreaming along with him."
"Bookshop. Immediately."
The line clicked silently in his ear and Hob let out a shaky breath, throwing himself out of bed. Adrenaline was surging through him as he flipped through his contacts again and stabbed at the call button. It took four of the numbers he had documented, but when a grumpy American voice finally answered, Hob nearly sagged in relief.
"Winchester, it's Gadling. Robert Gadling, who-"
"I know who you fucking are, Rob, what the hell do you want?" Dean muttered, rolling away from Cas, rubbing his face as he glared at the phone. "Are you back stateside?"
Hob let out a shaky breath. "I need to talk to Castiel."
Dean tensed. "Why?"
"Put me on speakerphone," Hob ordered. "We don't have time, I don't have any time, get your brother too, and anyone else you can trust, I need your help, and we don't have time."
Hob shoved himself into jeans and a jacket, grabbing money and a collection of fake IDs before stuffing them into a duffle bag, and running out the door. "Hurry!" He snapped when he heard rustling.
"Don't get your fucking panties in a twist-"
"Tell Castiel the Dreaming is being attacked by Hell and tell me if he doesn't kick your ass in gear!" Hob snapped, running down the street. It'd be faster on foot, he couldn't risk the tube, and he had more calls to make.
Castiel's voice came over the receiver next. "Explain."
"Hell and the Fae are attacking the Dreaming," Hob panted, looking around him as he jogged across the street. "We cannot hold it any longer. Dream needs an army, but he knows he's losing, and he's barred me from the Dreaming to try to protect me."
Castiel lifted his eyes to look at Sam and Gabriel, standing across from him, with grim expressions on their faces, and turned his attention back to the phone. "Then I may assume that you are calling in your favor with me."
"I'm calling in every favor I've spent six hundred years getting," Hob snapped. "We're going to meet in New York. I'm hoping that we're actually going to have an army, but get to New York. I'll text you the address, and Castiel?"
"Yes?"
Hob closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "I, If you... I'm not asking for, for-"
"Stop," Castiel ordered. "We will be there. I will bring whoever I can. Look for us. We will come with you, no matter what. The Dreaming cannot fall."
"Damn right," Hob said, reaching up to wipe at his eye, fear for Dream growing stronger and deeper in his chest. "I'll see you soon." The phone clicked in his ear seconds later and Hob kept running.
Hob nearly sagged in relief as he turned the corner and cut through two yards to take a shortcut that he'd been doing for the better part of two hundred years. That would be no small amount of help to have an angel on their side. He didn't know precisely how Castiel and Dean had come to be together, but against Hell, an angel would be nothing but useful. By the time he made it to the bookshop, the lights were on inside and Hob could see both Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley inside.
Now to hope that whatever they were, they would be just as willing to help. He knocked on the door, his chest heaving from his run and he managed a tearful smile for Mr. Fell as he was ushered inside.
"Explain."
Hob turned to Mr. Crowley and let out a breath, his shoulders shaking as he held onto the bag by his side. "Lucifer and Titania have allied. They are attacking the Dreaming. Dream has held them for four days straight, but they are too strong together. He cannot hold them much longer. The Dreaming is going to fall unless we do something, and do it now."
"We cannot fight a war for you, my boy," Mr. Fell said.
Hob lifted his eyes to look at Mr. Fell. "I've never asked, just as you've never asked me," he started, his voice soft. "But if you can help. Offer any help at all. I need it. Dream needs it, and Dream always repays his debts. I am..." he paused and drew on a fraction of power from the Dreaming, his crown, gifted to him by Dream, shimmering to life in his hair. He could see the reflection in Mr. Crowley's sunglasses and a similar shine in Mr. Fell's eyes.
"I am King Consort of the Dreaming," Hob continued, staring both of them down. "You would not only have my favor, but whatever I can give you, I will make yours. But you must, you must help me save him. Please."
Aziraphale looked to Crowley and raised his eyebrows. "We should go."
Crowley scowled. "And give Hell another reason to hate me?"
Aziraphale smiled faintly. "Do you think they'd hate you more for this, or for stopping time so Lucifer couldn't start the end of the world with his son?"
Snapping his mouth shut and pressing his lips tight together, Crowley scowled. "Unfair, Angel."
Aziraphale nodded and turned back to Hob Gadling. "We will help. Where are we assembling?"
Hob's knees nearly buckled in relief. "New York City. There's..." he bit down on his lip and looked to the side before he explained, quietly. "We need an army. The only army I can think that might help us, that would know enough to help us is there."
"You mean Alec Lightwood-Bane," Crowley said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Hob blinked in surprise and stared at him. "How did you-"
Crowley waved a hand. "You think they'll help?"
"I think..." Hob let out a breath. "I think his husband knows how urgent my request will be, and will understand why I'm asking, and why that's the only place I can ask. Alec and his brother owe me life debts, but that is enough for their help, not that of the Institute, so we'll..." he paused and shrugged. "I've got to try. I mentioned needing a miracle, didn't I?"
Aziraphale hummed and glanced at Crowley. "The paperwork for this is going to be atrocious."
Crowley smirked. "The benefit if we win, I won't have near as much, they'll be too busy mopping up to care about what the heretic is up to up here."
Hob pulled out his phone as it rang and frowned at it. "Excuse me, I need to take this." He hit the answer button. "Calliope? What's-"
"I'm a bit offended that I wasn't your first phone call, Robert," Calliope said, striding into her father's temple. "Where are we meeting?"
Hob's eyes widened and his breath caught in his chest. "You're, you know I can't ask you-"
"Oneiros is one of us," Calliope said, keeping it simple. "The Dreaming was once my home. And what is to say that the hordes of Hell will be satisfied with the Dreaming alone? Olympus has no Endless protecting it, we could easily be next. It was not hard to sway them."
"New York City," Hob answered, letting out a laugh. "Do me a favor and make sure Thanatos and Zagreus can both join us. They'll have fun."
Calliope blinked and paused in front of the statue, the offering in her hand. "I admit I am intrigued by how you know of them."
Hob couldn't help a laugh. "I'll tell you the story of how I met Thanatos when he tried to reap me and failed one of these days. It's one of my funnier stories for those who would know and understand the references." He tightened his hand on the phone. "We're meeting in New York City. I'm hoping to have an army. We need..." he swallowed, thinking of the exhaustion he could feel bleeding from the Dreaming, even now. "We need all the help we can get, Calliope, he's lost so many already."
"We will not let him fall," Calliope said, her voice firming. "You have us. Finish getting your allies together, Hob Gadling, then we will march to save the Dreaming."
Hob swiped the phone shut and turned to look at the two otherworldly beings still in the bookshop and blinked in surprise at the wings that he could see behind both of them in the shadows on the wall. He'd seen those, once before, though they'd been cast by Castiel, not either of them. His breath caught. He was bringing more than one angel to this battle.
"So, angel's not just a nickname, huh?" Hob asked, glancing at Mr. Fell, who, surprisingly, blushed.
"Yes, well," Aziraphale cleared his throat. "Shall we bring you to New York?"
Hob reached out to take his hand. "Let's go."
~!~
Magnus scowled when his phone rang, ignoring it in favor of finishing mixing his drink. Alec had said that there was an unusual amount of activity coming across their sensors, so he would be working late tonight, and he had every intention of ignoring work himself. When it rang a second time, Magnus scowled and flipped it over, but didn't recognize the number.
It wasn't until a fire message came shooting through the air, that he blinked at the sight of Oberon's seal and flipped it over, staring at the single sentence.
You're going to want to take that phone call.
Right on cue, his phone rang a third time and Magnus swiped it open, irritation snapping across his skin. "Who is calling me at this hour-"
"The King Consort of the Dreaming, husband of Dream of the Endless," Hob snapped. "Save me the diatribe, Mr. Lightwood-Bane, I wouldn't be calling you if it weren't urgent."
Fear skittered up his spine and Magnus looked from the slowly burning fire message in his hand to his phone and he sat down on the edge of the couch. "Why are you calling me? How did you get this number?"
Hob took a deep breath. "Because you owe me a favor. You'd know me by another name."
Magnus blinked, frowning in confusion. The man's voice did sound familiar, but he was in the good habit of keeping track of his favors and there wasn't any that he owed to the husband of the Dream Lord. "Do tell."
"My name is Robert Gadling."
"What in Edom's name...." Magnus' mouth dropped open and he stared at the phone. "I owed you a..." he paused, pointedly. "Several dozen favors two hundred years ago!"
Hob snorted and strode toward where he knew the New York Institute was. "Are your favors in the habit of expiring, Mr. Lightwood-Bane?"
Magnus scowled. "You were a human and you died three years later."
"I'm immortal, the husband of one of the Endless, and a Regent of the Dreaming," Hob corrected with a laugh. "Just because you didn't know any of that doesn't change the fact that you owe me favors. And I'm about to call all of them in, and then some."
He raised his eyebrows and sighed. "Which means what?"
"Hell and the Fae realm have taken advantage of the weakened barriers between worlds," Hob rushed out. By the sound of stillness across the receiver, he knew he had Mr. Lightwood-Bane's attention. "They are attacking the Dreaming. Together, the Dreaming cannot stand up against them, even with one of the Endless protecting it."
Magnus pinched the bridge between his eyebrows. "And if any of the other Endless interfere it risks upsetting the balance they just finished putting into place."
Hob grinned grimly. "You see why I called you."
"What do you want from me?" Magnus asked, tightening his hand on the phone. "Why..." All at once, he understood, and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. "You cannot ask me to do that, Robert. You cannot."
"The only favor I am calling in is with you and any warlocks you trust. All I want with him is a chance to speak with him and plead my case. I'm marching from here, whether he comes with us or not," Hob said, moving faster, crossing a street before the light changed. Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley were in lockstep behind him, no matter how fast he moved, and he had a feeling that Castiel, Dean, and Sam would be here soon.
Magnus tightened his hand on the phone. He already knew what Alexander would say, as soon as he knew what the stakes were, what was at risk. If the Dreaming fell, if one of the Endless fell, who knew if the world would even be able to stay in balance again? "How close are you to the New York Institute?"
"About five blocks, if my intel on where it is is correct," Hob answered. "You text me the address and I'll tell you."
Magnus closed his eyes and took a deep breath, changing his outfit with a wave of his hand. "I will meet you there."
"See you soon, Mr. Lightwood-Bane," Hob answered, disconnecting the call. When the address came through, Hob nodded and sent it off to Sam, waiting for confirmation before doing the same for Calliope, breaking into a run.
Alec was waiting for him, and Magnus had to wonder if he had suspected, or if something else was at play when he stepped into Operations amid a constant buzz of activity. He side-stepped a hurrying Underhill and around an Isabelle barking orders for weapons distribution and stepped up beside his husband, offering him a grin.
"You know something," Alec said, in lieu of a greeting. "Is the fight coming to us?"
Magnus shook his head. "It's going to look like it is to your sensors, but no. They're using this as a gathering spot, which is why everything is going haywire." He watched the power meter readings on the board in front of him spike, violently high before immediately settling and letting out a whistle. Whoever Robert Gadling had summoned as part of this party of his was more powerful than he'd assumed.
Alec nodded once. "What's going on?"
Magnus let out a breath and glanced toward the door. "I think it'll be better if I let him tell you. But I'll tell you what he's going to ask for, to give you time to decide."
Alec raised both of his eyebrows and waited.
"The entire mobilization of the Institute. Every possible fighting hand."
Alec's eyes widened and he glanced at Jace who had gone still beside him. "Who-"
Magnus' lips twitched. "A human, who is much more than a human as I discovered a handful of minutes ago." He gestured to the door. "He's going to be waiting out front."
"I'm coming with you," Jace said. "And neither of you is arguing."
Alec nodded once and glanced at Isabelle. "Take command," he ordered. "Send out the red alert notification that the entire Institute should be ready to mobilize and march on my command."
Isabelle blinked twice before nodding. "You got it, Alec."
Alec turned to Magnus and gestured for him to lead the way out. His shoulders relaxed a fraction when Jace fell into step beside him and they made their way to the front doors. He pushed them open and headed down the steps, watching the edge of the glamor before it rippled, and... he stared at the group that was larger than he expected walked through.
Magnus did his best not to tense, but watching the crowd in front of him, with Robert Gadling at the head, if they decided to fight, they were not in a position to win easily, even with his wards. He nodded his head. "Robert."
"Mr. Lightwood-Bane," Hob inclined his head and stepped up closer, looking between Alec Lightwood-Bane and his parabatai, giving them a lazy grin. "Alec, Jace. Nice to see you again boys."
Jace blinked and his eyes widened. "Rob? What the fuck... where did you... how did you..."
Alec narrowed his eyes. "So, not what you appeared, were you?"
Hob shrugged and smiled at them. "No. Never said that I was, either. You both assumed I was a nephilim who'd stepped away from the Clave. Worked perfectly well for me."
Magnus looked at Alec and frowned. "You know who he is?"
"He saved Jace and I's life, when we were younger," Alec said. "We promised him a life debt." He waited. "Do you call in that debt now?"
“He’d better fucking not,” Jace muttered.
Hob shook his head. "No, as far as I'm concerned, an audience pays that debt perfectly well. I have come to ask for your help." He stepped forward, tugging just a fraction on the Dreaming, even as it screamed with pain through his connection to Dream, letting his clothing shift to armor and his crown shimmer to life on his head. Behind him, more than one figure stared at him in surprise, but he smiled as he stepped closer.
"Many here know me by different names, Mr. Lightwood-Bane," Hob said, addressing Alec directly. "What many of you do not know is what I am. I am the husband of one of the Endless, and his realm is being attacked by both Hell and the Fae. If his realm is to fall, it would spell doom for the world all of you live in." He paused and let out a snort. "There are a number of the people behind me who are happy to corroborate such a statement, as well as Magnus."
Alec's eyes flicked to Magnus and he nodded when Magnus confirmed it with a quick nod of his own. "What do you need?"
"The Endless are powerful," Hob started, taking a deep breath. "For four days and four nights, he has fought off those armies with only his own creatures and power. It's not enough. He is falling. If he falls, every creature who dreams will be subject to the whims and touch of the Fae and Hell Princes who take command of that realm." He met Alec's eyes readily. "I am asking for you to lead an army to fight them and prevent it. Otherwise, they will not last long."
"And if I refuse?" Alec asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I assume some sort of retribution?"
Hob shook his head. "No. Your lives are your own to do with as you please, and I am asking, not demanding. But imagine losing the ability to dream. Every single one of you. Losing the hopes that go with dreams. That is what you stand to lose today. If you make the choice to refuse to come with me, I will accept that, but that is what you risk."
"Do we risk causing an international incident with the Fae if we interfere?" Alec asked, glancing toward Magnus. "Should I speak with Meliorn?"
"There is no need, shadowhunter," A smooth voice called.
Magnus' shoulders relaxed as both Oberon and Qinemru stepped through a portal, another dozen warlocks stepping through after them.
Alec raised his eyebrows. "Explain, Qinemru?"
"Titania has commanded, and thus the Fae follow. If you are to march in defense, the only political maneuver you would be indicating is an alliance with the Dreaming," Qinemru gestured to Hob Gadling. "As one of the Regents of the realm is here, brokering such an alliance would not be anything more or anything less than that, an alliance."
Alec nodded his thanks and turned back to the man standing in front of him. "Can we win?"
Hob didn't hesitate. "If Lucifer does not join the battle, yes."
"And if Lucifer does?" Alec challenged, raising his eyebrow.
Hob met Alec's eyes and waited for several long beats. "If Lucifer descends to the battle, it will tip the scales of balance again, and more than that, we will all be dead before it would matter."
"Don't be so sure of that."
Hob looked behind him at Sam Winchester and raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Sam stared back readily and looked down at Loki, who glared back at him before he smiled and met Hob's eyes again. "Lucifer is not an immediate death sentence, for any of us. A threat, but not a death sentence. You have my word. If they join the fight, won't be the first time I've fought them."
Hob assimilated that before nodding and turning back to Alec. "As he said." He pressed a hand to his chest as he felt a fissure start to form across the Dreaming. "We must hurry. Will you help us?"
Alec turned to look over his shoulder and made a gesture that he knew the cameras would see and smirked when Isabelle started leading shadowhunters out and into the courtyard. He brought his attention back to the man in front of him and inclined his head. "You have your army, King Consort. Time to rejoin the battle."
Hob grinned, bright and feral before turning to Magnus Lightwood-Bane. "An undirected portal, if you please?"
Magnus was glad when Oberon stepped up beside him and between the two of them, a large, undirected, and undulating portal was cast in front of them. He rolled his shoulders and let out a breath as he looked up at the sky. “Direct it quickly, it’s unstable.”
Hob reached out and held his hands just above the edge of the portal and felt it snap into solidness. He closed his eyes and breathed out deeply. “Bring me to him,” he ordered. He felt the Dreaming fight him, trying to keep him back because it was Dream and Dream was still trying to protect him, to keep him out. “He is going to die if we do not help him, and I have help,” Hob growled, his hands starting to glow with silver light. A beam of light shot from his chest into the portal and Hob felt the physical manifestation of his bond with Dream find his husband and lock him into place.
Panic shot through the bond from Dream and Hob could see that Dream and the Nightmares were cornered, being backed toward the Gate of Horn. He dropped his hands and took two steps back from the portal, reaching out into the air, a familiar blade slipping into his fingertips, home where it belonged. His armor shifted to one that would allow him to be more flexible, multiple knives tucked across his body and he readied himself.
“We are walking into a fight, to break the enemy’s advancing line,” Hob growled. “The terrain is sand. Be ready.” He looked over his shoulder at the allies he had assembled and dug his feet in for a second before he charged through the portal, his blade cleaving through a demon the second he touched the sand. There was a screech, but Hob didn’t stop moving. Dream and his Nightmares were ahead of him, and he could see the panic in Dream’s eyes as he charged toward him.
Because he was watching for it, he saw the shock the moment Dream realized he was not alone.