For a long time there is nothing to distinguish this dream from the ones he usually has, except, perhaps, this void has a solid floor of some kind, not the ashy earth he's come to know. He's not drifting along with his circles of thought, he's - well, he's sitting.

Something soft brushes his hand and he startles back instinctively, though he knows who she is immediately. There's always something sort of familiar about these dreams.

"Nova," he says, and scoops her up.

"Johnny!" She burrows against his chest. "I missed you."

The last time they saw each other was truly ridiculous, and they hadn't been getting along on top of it. He holds her close now, feeling a lot better despite sitting in the damn dark.

"Not really a scenery dream, is it?" he comments drolly.

She scoffs and says, "Maybe if we sit still long enough the plot will trip over us."

"Maybe there's no plot to this one." He looks around, pointlessly. "I'd be okay with that I guess."

The premise alone - all this oppressive darkness - should be upsetting to him, but at this point, he can't work up the energy to be afraid of the dark. He's faced down every monster and he keeps bouncing back. What's the worst that could happen?