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It wouldn't have been far fetched to conclude that Dillon would never have to worry about running into either of the Morrises, now that they lived in their own house, and had their child to constantly take care of. Robert did not have many reasons to come into the general use cafeteria, nowadays. And yet he'd been seen there several times, because he had a loose goal that he'd been taking care of. Helping others learn the world of sandwich making.

And he was usually there when he had tiny shift breaks, to make himself a sandwich.

That was exactly why Dillon would find a shadow looming over him; a great big lunking shadow from a man staring at his back with a cocked head as he tried to remember just where he'd seen the back of this man before..

"OI!" Robert screamed, when the man stood up and hid his face while trying to scoot away. Did he not realize Robert had been right behind him, ready to say something. "WAIT A MINUTE!"

The large man followed, lumbering forward with his great big feet that made a great big sound as he tried to catch up. "HOLD ON BRO, I GOTTA ASK YOU SOMETHIN'!" He still hadn't figured it out yet, but the way he ran - there was just something..

Robert almost stopped when the man yelled so adamantly, because who would want to run after someone that mad? He didn't even know what he could have done to -

Oh.

Oh.

Turning around jogged his memory to exactly who he was looking at, and that surprised him more than the yelling, or the anger in Dillon's voice. He stared for a few minutes, tried to remember everything that had happened in that one dream where they had been other people, and in the end, frowned.

"Sorry." Robert muttered, his face crumpled in the most drowned-puppy look a giant man's face could manage. "I just didn't, I couldn't see who you were, but I knew- I mean- " He sagged, and took a step back. Dillon knew who he was. That was why he ran. That was enough to make Robert back off.

He knew when he was not wanted.

"Nevermind. Sorry bro- I mean. Dude. I guess."

It was all a dream.

That was true, but it also wasn't. Robert was used to these weird, not real places they kept visiting, and he'd grown accustomed to keeping his life separate from the ones he'd lived within the dreams. Otherwise, he'd probably be a little gay for Leon right now, and he wasn't. Still, it hurt to hear him say that nothing that happened within it counts, because Robert also believed that the shared consciousness dreams they lived through taught them valuable lessons, and helped shape their lives. He'd fallen in love with Mimsy, in one of them, after all.

But Dillon did give him permission to call him bro again, which made Robert look like he'd be wagging a tail if he had one. "Well, yeah, man, I wasn't trying to - I mean I just recognized you and wanted to know who you were. I wasn't trying to relive no weird a** life somebody else had in dreams." He snorted, as if that was obvious. "We're totally different people, obviously. But that means we are totally different people. So maybe I don't deserve people screaming and running away from me before they get to know me. Right?"

He made the point with a beaming smile, and held his giant hand out for Dillon to take.

"Name's Robert!"

Robert could sense the man's hesitance, so he tried not to get excited about the handshake. It was a normal, easygoing handshake, and it ended without any real fanfare. What happened next, however, was the exact opposite of the handshake, and entirely Dillon's fault.

The word itself created an unstoppable reaction that started in Robert's expression, and ended with him wrapping his arms around Dillon and picking the poor man up to bounce him in the air a few times. This was coupled with a hearty yell of, you guessed it;

"CONGRATULATIONS!"

Some things transversed space and time.

"Of COURSE there is, bro!" Robert bellowed out, smacking the man on the back once Dillon was back down on the ground. "We're celebratin' the fact that you and me, we're friends now! In this world! Buds! That's worth celebrating in my book."

And to prove his friendship, Robert bent down and whispered something that wasn't actually a whisper, as much as it was just quieter than usual for him.

"Want me to make you a sandwich?"

"BRO."

The cry was almost ominous in enthusiasm, and the looming figure grabbed the tray separating them in order to tow Dillon gently back to the table. He couldn't possibly have meant no - he clearly had no idea the caliber of sandwich making that was about to take place.

He leaned down again, and repeated himself with significantly more gusto.



"It's gonna be cool, bro. Sandwich making is an art, and I'm like, an arteest." The accent on the last syllable should really sell it, as well as the hella ok signal he was giving.