Daniel touches Louis' face, cradles it. Trying to comfort him while he can hear his heart go faster in distress. It's fucked. This is fucked. His eyes close in denial at how familiar it is, black licorice and tea. It's what Louis said in the dream, and he'd had no dismissive comment about it in response, he'd just let—

"What'd I ask you to do?" Eyes open again, staring at Louis. It couldn't have been real. "Before you got up,"

like there's a sequence of events in dreams, come on

"I asked you to do something."

Don't. It can't be real, Armand was in the room, wasn't he? Louis wouldn't have done anything with Armand standing in the entryway, watching them, like he watches everything in all of Daniel's dreams, a glow-eyed grim reaper.