Spencer looked at William, feeling vaguely distant -- William wasn't a real part of this, he knew, and for some reason it felt like he and William were less real than the rest of the world around him. He said, "Yes," anyway, and stood up, walking towards where the group of people were standing. He could see their faces more clearly now, holding onto scraps of things: a different William with a pile of salvaged books at his feet and in his arms, Jon with a host of animals settled around him, Ryland holding old parchments and scrolls, Gabe with a small collection of potions ingredients. The other Spencer was holding a small birch tree in a pot in his arms, which made the real Spencer roll his eyes; it was one of the least valuable plants in his collection, disregarding sentiment.
They didn't notice Spencer, or the other (real? dream?) William standing with him, and Spencer ducked his head, stomach rolling over. The group of his friends and colleagues were too small, Spencer knew.
"There's still people in there," Dream Gabe said, sounding strained, and Spencer turned with the others to look up at the group.
He turned to the real William and said, "I've counted the people missing. The ones who aren't there. Mikey and Brendon and Gerard and Pete and Patrick." He tilted his head to the side, and tasted smoke.
"Also Ryan," he said, even though he tried not to think about that very much, not even in the dream. It hurt.