Paola Santiago was back where she hadn't been in a long time.

On her best friend Dante's couch.

After the whole thing with La Llorona, Pao had thought that everything would move forward smoothly and that nothing as crazy or terrible would ever happen.

She had been hoping for a 'Happily Ever After'.

But of course not. Earlier that day, Pao had gotten into yet another fight with her mother, and when she had stormed off to her room, she had felt like the walls were closing in around her.

When she couldn't stand it anymore, she had snuck out, leaving a simple note on her bed, and had gone upstairs to Dante's apartment, where she asked Señora Mata if she could stay the night on the couch. Of course, Señora had agreed and welcomed her in.

The sun had already set, and her mom had left for work a while ago. Pao hadn't gone to Dante's room to hang out with him, instead, she had helped Señora with setting up the couch for her to sleep on and then had borrowed a book from the bookshelf, deciding to read until she got tired enough to sleep.

She doubted Dante even knew she was at his place.

Señora had turned in for the night, leaving Pao, her book, and the television alone. Pao had immediately turned off the TV.

Finally, an hour and a half or so later, she had closed the book and laid down.

It had been a while since she'd had her characteristic nightmares, but she never forgot the feeling of them. Cold, damp, and if pure fear and misery had a feeling, this was definitely it.

In her dream, she was walking along the low banks of a small woodland river. It wasn't the Gila- in fact, she had no idea which river it was. But along her patch of the Gila, huge trees didn't soar overhead, making shade with their branches in full leaf, which this one had. The Gila wasn't shallow enough in most places to walk in, but this one was. And her patch of the Gila definitely did not have the ruins of several shacks along its shores.

Pao felt drawn to the ruins of the shacks, around a dozen in counting. They looked almost ancient. Each was made of wood that had black paint peeling off the material, and cobwebs hung down from every corner. Shutters hung crooked on the dilapidated walls, and there were piles of broken glass here and there.

She headed to the biggest one, nearest to the water's edge. The door creaked loudly as she lightly pushed it open, and she shook off several years' worth of dust from her fingertips.

But as soon as both of her feet were inside the old building, the wind blew, slamming the door shut, leaving her in almost total darkness, just like in a horror film. Pao hadn't ever been scared of those, but there was a big difference between watching a cheap horror reel and actually being in one yourself, without the script, fog machines, and cameras.

Suddenly, bright lights flared. Pao blinked in the newfound brightness, but when her vision cleared, she wished the lights had stayed off.

Tied to the wall were four figures. Their heads were resting on their chests, and they all seemed to be knocked out, but still breathing.

Paola almost screamed when she figured out who they were- Dante, Emma, her mom, and Señora Mata.

The corner of the room darkened, and out materialized a tall and gaunt old man with ashen skin, empty sunken eyes, and tufts of thin white hair clinging to his scalp. He wore a ragged black shirt and pants.

(I really shouldn't be writing this while trying to go to sleep)

He held a dull ax in one hand.

He turned to face Pao. "Choose," he rasped. His voice was a thousand times worse than nails on a chalkboard- even though it was a dream, Pao knew she'd never forget it.

Her own voice sounded too small. "Choose?"

The man grinned, showing only a few ugly, worn, grey teeth. He stepped to Señora Mata.

"The old lady who was practically the grandmother you never knew?"

Then to her mom.

"The woman who raised you?"

Then to Emma.

"The girl who, despite being your polar opposite, you confide in and would do anything for?"

Then, finally, to Dante.

"Or, the boy who means a lot more to you than a mere friend," he snarled the last word.

Pao tried to speak, but her vocal cords refused to move. She tried to move, to run to them, but her feet were similarly frozen.

The old man seemed to take her silence as indecision. He laughed- a sound worse than his voice, which Pao hadn't thought possible.

"Very well then, Dreamer. I shall choose for you."

He raised the ax... right over Dante's head.

All at once, Pao unfroze. She stumbled and fell to the floor, screaming, "No!"

And her eyes snapped open. She flew straight up, her eyes watering with tears and the scream still on the tip of her tongue. Sweat beaded on her forehead and it took a while for her to catch her breath.

In her hysteria, she barely felt familiar arms wrap around her and hold her tight.

"Shh," Dante whispered soothingly in her ear, gently rubbing her shoulders in an attempt to calm her. "It's okay, Pao, I'm here."

"Dante," she said, barely above a whisper.

He squeezed her tightly, but not so tight that she couldn't breathe. "It was just a dream, Pao. Remember, all that electrical-somethings and whatever?"

Pao was tempted to answer No, but currently, she was just trying to breathe normally.

"I thought you stopped having those nightmares years ago," Dante said, releasing her once she had calmed down enough. He kept her hand in his, though.

Pao shook her head. "I never stopped having them," she admitted in a tiny voice.

"Why did you say they stopped, then?"

"I-" Pao's voice broke. How could she explain the guilt she felt every time the doctors suggested expensive treatments? She'd claimed to stop having the nightmares to save her mom all the stress.

"You don't have to tell me," Dante said quickly.

She nodded, but she made a mental note to tell him later, preferably when she was in a better state of mind than at the present.

"How did you know?" She asked.

"How did I know what?"

"That I was... you know-"

"I just woke up to get some water, and you were there starting to squirm around and muttering, so I woke you up."

"Thanks," she said.

He squeezed her hand in response. Their eyes locked for a few seconds longer than usual, and she could've sworn he leaned closer- like, less than an inch closer to her.

He said, "Do you wanna tell me what it was about?"

Just thinking about the little shacks and the terrifying old man made Pao's normally sensible brain go spiraling into a panic.

She managed, "You were there, and Emma, and my mom and your abuela, all tied to the wall, and there was this old man who was about to-" her breath caught in her throat. She hated how much she still felt like a little girl, barely able to control herself.

He wrapped his arms around her again, like he believed that his touch could drive away the bad memories. And maybe, just maybe a little bit, it worked on Pao. She could feel herself starting to melt into his embrace.

"It was just a dream," he repeated. "You're okay now."

Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and Pao's head rested against his chest. He didn't object.

When her even, slow breathing told Dante that she was sound asleep, he carefully released her from his arms and laid her back down on the couch. Then he kissed her forehead before going back to his room, leaving the door open in case she needed him again.

That night, Paola didn't have any more nightmares.