Tristan stood at the sink and stared at his own face in the mirror. On a whim, he reached out to touch it, and its surface rippled like water. This didn’t bother him. He didn’t feel any way about it, just like he didn’t feel any way about anything, standing there. His toothbrush poked out of the holder, white and teal. He grabbed it and spread toothpaste along its bristles, still unperturbed by the mirror rippling, and not feeling any way about anything. The toothbrush wriggled in his grip like a worm. It too had a sort of ripple about it, and so did the rest of the bathroom, and soon, maybe Tristan’s own body.

He lifted the toothbrush to his teeth, and that’s when he started feeling something. Terror.

It began with one tooth dislodged from the gumline, way in the back. When the toothbrush hit it, it rolled right out of place, bobbed down Tristan’s tongue, and when he gagged, fell out of his mouth and into the sink. It was covered in blood. There was no pain, but Tristan groaned in disgust. If it was just one, maybe he would’ve handled it better.

But it wasn’t just the one.

Tristan stuck his finger in his mouth, fishing for the fresh hole. He found it easily, but when he tried to rub it to inspect the damage, he bumped the next couple of teeth. Under his touch, they loosened. It wasn’t long before he had two or three more teeth rolling around along his tongue, tasting like rot.

He spit them into the sink. He gasped, gaped, and almost repeated the mistake of probing his mouth, but the rational side of his brain stopped the instinct to staunch whatever was happening. He stood there staring at himself in the mirror, his toothbrush held in a fist, the rest of him tense in contrast to the numb, bizarre sensation of his mouth. There was no pain except that which his mind implied.

His mind implied a lot.

The teeth in the sink sat there. At some point he didn’t remember, the toothbrush relinquished its existence of its own accord. His face in the mirror was making an expression that was one part ick and three parts fear. His mouth was agape, and so he had a good view of what happened next.

The teeth that remained in his mouth wriggled this way and that, surreally wobbling as if to loosen themselves without Tristan’s assistance.

He couldn’t help it. He screamed.

The scream was raw and long, and the sound of it signaled the teeth to abandon the mouth completely. They all fell, one by one, into the sink, onto the counter, onto the floor—one bounced off his toe—and Tristan could do nothing more than wail.

He needed his teeth. He needed them, because without them he couldn’t have that politician’s smile that won him attention from women. Who would like him now? No teeth meant no one, and that was torture. He needed people to like him. He needed that. He didn’t have anything else to fall back on.

Someone arrived.

Tristan didn’t notice her at first, but soon became aware of a presence behind him, between his back and the closed bathroom door. As soon as he realized he wasn’t alone, he clamped his mouth shut and reduced his screaming to a small whimper, the best he could do to get a handle on it. When it came to dealing with other people, he always did his best to keep their needs above his own, because that was how you got friends instead of enemies.

His teeth, his teeth.

“Are you aware you’re dreaming?” asked the woman.

Tristan spun around and accidentally slammed his elbow against the faucet. He was a big guy. Unlike his teeth falling out the first time, he felt the impact. He made a startled, pained noise and rubbed his elbow.

Oh god, her neck.

The woman who stood before him wore slim-fitting, moveable clothing of a design that was unearthly, and her neck was something gory to be beheld. She also carried a sword. Her hair was blonde and extremely long, nearly all the way to the floor. Aside from her neck, she was beautiful.

Tristan raised his gaze slightly.

Oh god, her eyes.

Her eyes were silver, and not just the iris. Her entire eye was silvery and reflective, resembling ancient mirrors or dinnerware scrubbed clear.

“I can make you aware you’re dreaming,” she said. “I am Akki, Slayer of Nightmares.”

Ghastly appearance above the neck, but a gorgeous voice. Athletic figure too.

But his teeth.

Akki tilted her head.

Tristan couldn’t explain himself due to his lack of teeth. He settled for a shrug. Then he pointed to the sink where most of the teeth had fallen.

“Ah,” said Akki. “I’m familiar. What are you compromising in the waking world?”

Tristan scrunched his eyebrows.

“This dream is common.” Akki reached toward Tristan with one lithe, pretty hand. “I can make you aware, if you’ll let me.”

Tristan flinched away. He looked at her neck because he couldn’t help it. Her tendons were showing through.

“I won’t hurt you,” said Akki softly.

The room rippled. Akki lowered her hand and observed. Tristan shrank away from her.

“Despite appearances,” she said. “I’m here to help. All you need is to accept it.”

Tristan would’ve answered if he had any teeth left. He kept his mouth shut, afraid what else might fall out if he opened it. Surely his tongue was next.

“Really,” said Akki, again softly.

Anyone would be reluctant of this. Tristan caught himself inching closer to her and stopped that quick. She’d said it was a dream. Could it really be just a dream? The awareness of dreaming was a fickle thing, one that Tristan couldn’t quite catch. But he had enough of his wits to consider the idea, and therefore became lucid.

“None of this is real,” said Tristan. It came out all wrong. With the way his syllables slurred, he wondered if he was comprehensible.

“That’s almost right,” answered Akki. “I can make it easier to understand if you’ll let me. But you have to let me.”

Tristan shook his head. He didn’t let people help him. He helped himself after everyone else was taken care of. That’s just how it was. Especially if the one whose needs were being put before his own was female.

Akki stood there. It was awkward.

“Please,” she said after a long while, and bowed rather formally. “Please let me help you. I insist.”

Tristan considered it. The moment he considered it, one of his teeth grew back. The molars in the back pushed through the gums, and Tristan stretched his tongue wide at the back of his mouth to check if he were imagining them returning. They had returned and he needn’t have checked, but it did make him feel better to know they were there. If only considering accepting help did that, then…

“Well it would be stupid not to,” said Tristan, now slightly more articulate.

Akki gave him a closemouthed smile. She reached for him, and this time, Tristan took her hand.

Immediately, the room warbled. With the warbling came even more of Tristan’s teeth. They regrew in his mouth slowly but consistently until all were repaired. The teeth in the sink vanished as if they’d never been there, and the ones on the floor too. That was all it took. Just one grasp of the hand. Along with the teeth repair came awareness that Tristan was dreaming, which made the experience less disturbing but also more disturbing because he had no idea who Akki was to him. He didn’t know her when he was awake and had no idea how she’d wandered into his dreams. Then again, he rarely remembered his dreams. Maybe they really did know each other on some other plane of existence. In any case, he was happy to have his teeth back.

“Thanks,” said Tristan because what else could you say?

“Glad to be of assistance,” said Akki with a slight bow. “Are you now aware?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Are you still afraid?”

“Not really.”

“Then my role here is complete.”

“Stay.”

“Pardon?”

“Stay for a while. Explain this whole experience to me.”

“You want me to explain your own nightmare?”

“Well, yeah.”

“It’s commonly a stress dream, to dream of one’s teeth falling out, but it’s also one that happens when compromises have overtaken someone’s spirit.”

“You don’t know how to flirt, do you?”

“Pardon?”

“Never mind. You say you slay nightmares?” Tristan indicated Akki’s sword. “Didn’t take much to slay mine. You never drew your weapon.”

“That would’ve been unnecessary.”

“I see.”

“Apologies if it wasn’t satisfactorily thrilling to you.”

“Aha! You can flirt.”

Akki smiled. “I must be going. There are other dreamers.”

“More than just me, huh?”

Akki nodded.

Tristan stared at her for a while. It was a nice view.

A distant sound of screams shook Tristan out of his contentment. “The fuck? Akki, I—”

But she was gone. He could only hope one day she’d return.

He awoke to the sound of his alarm.