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Dream was dead.
This was something Techno knew for a fact. He knew it as well as the fact that he was a shapeshifter, the fact that he cared for Tommy and Wilbur against his own wishes, and the fact that he was currently being hunted. He knew Dream was dead, and that statement was so, very much true.
If he was dead, why was he standing in front of the pink-haired man then? Why was he standing next to the ghost of Wilbur with no mask and broken, haunting eyes? Why did he look so dead, but so alive at the same time?
He didn’t know.
Dream was dead, though, he had to be. He had sent that message to Techno, had told him what he was going to do and what his plan was. He had laid out everything and by the time Techno had arrived, byt the time he had come to stop him, it had been too late.
The body had still been warm when he buried it. It wasn’t as warm as it should’ve been, though.
The sea had made sure of that.
It had tried to take Dream’s body further down, tried to claim it for itself. It wasn’t enough taking his life, helping him do so. It wasn’t enough. It wanted more, it needed more. It craved the blood of the human, of the man considered a god, and it was going to try its best to get it, no matter what.
Techno refused.
(He hadn’t gone down with the skull or the cape on. He had left them in the white sand, alongside his shoes and shirt, and he had dived and went down as deep as he dared. The air he had was limited, and it was nearly gone when he got to the bottom, and nearly ran out as he searched.
He had to take a break and gather more air, and it was when he lit the torch and placed it in his space that he saw the green hoodie and the broken mask, settled on the ground, a hand holding onto the mask. The body was settled beside it, and he didn’t hesitate before diving out of the space and grabbing the body, dragging it back into his space.
Dream looked… he had looked normal. He looked like he always had, like he was just simply sleeping. He looked like he was taking a nap and just forgot to put his mask back on. He looked like he wasn’t dead on the ocean floor, like there weren’t stab wounds on his chest and scars criss-crossing his face.
He looked like he was alive, like he was mortal, like he was okay. And god, Techno had never wished for someone to be alive harder than he had now. Because the body that was in his arms was both warm and cold, and he was dead, and he’d never be able to come back.
Why was it the worse people who deserved to come back the most?)
He had buried the body outside of L’manberg, beside Wilbur’s grave. Nobody had seen him do it, nobody had ever questioned who it was or what it was meant for.
(The logical answer is nobody ever visited Wilbur’s grave to see a new one beside it, with unsettled grass and no name marked on the sign. Because who would visit Wilbur? Who would want to visit the man who tried to kill everyone? Who would visit the man that wanted everyone dead?
The man who tried to kill his own brother, who forced his own father to kill him?
Who would visit that?)
He had buried it and left a flower, but it seemed that this decision was back to haunt him, in more ways than one.
Because Dream was dead. He knew this fact, as he had found his dead body in the sea and buried him with his own two hands, but the man was in front of him. He was in front of him with a green hoodie and his regular pants, shoes on his feet and no mask in sight, the blockage gone. He could see his eyes, and they were a dull white, with a whitish green there instead of his previous bright green. His hair was a light brown, and his hands were full of scars.
He looked both the same and different.
He looked hauntingly beautiful.
“Techno, I want you to meet my new friend.” Wilbur smiles, and his hand’s holding onto Dream’s own. “He’s new, so be gentle, alright? I don’t want you to scare him away before he has a chance to get settled.”
“I won’t scare him away, I promise.” He tells Wilbur, a soft smile gracing his features, before he turns to look at Dream. He knows his name already, it easily on the tip of his tongue already, but he asks anyway. “What’s your name?”
Dream is silent, shuffling closer to Wilbur, before swallowing and opening his mouth.
“I… I don’t remember.” He says quietly, and Techno nods in understanding, keeping the smile on his face for Dream’s sake.
“Why don’t we call you Dream, then? I think you’d like that name.” He speaks softly, as if he’s talking to a scared animal, and he waits as Dream thinks over the name, mulling over it.
“I like it.” Dream speaks quietly, and Techno smiles.
“Good.” He holds a hand out, and gently, Dream takes a hold, and they walk.
Wilbur and Dream don’t leave marks in the snow. Techno is the only one to leave footsteps, and he idly swipes them away with every step they take, a habit still left over from the years. (From the years of being hunted, of people wanting to take his powers and experiment on him, trying to see how much he can endure before he breaks.)
“What’s your name?” Dream asks, and Techno glances at him, putting the smile back on his face as he looks at him.
“Technoblade.” Techno tells him, “But you can call me Techno for short, if you want. I don’t mind what you call me.”
“Ok.” Dream smiles, swinging their hands back and forth, and Techno lets him as Wilbur chatters away beside the two of them.
The walk is silent as they head to Phil and Techno’s shared home, something that Tubbo had only recently allowed them. It’s big and warm, filled with bookshelves and blankets, and Techno is nearly lost in his thoughts, thinking about how much he can’t wait to be in the warm place before he feels a gentle tug on his arm.
He looks back down at the shorter man, who gives him a small smile.
“Why do you wear that skull on your face?” Dream asks, tilting his head towards the skull. He would point, Techno knows, but his hand is currently being held in Wilbur’s.
“Oh,” Techno says, swallowing. “I just wear it as a way to hide my face from people who don’t need to see it. Like, as a way to protect myself.”
“Like armor?” Dream questions, and he nods.
“Yeah, exactly like that.” He smiles. “I just do it because otherwise my face will be out there and people will be able to find me. And I don’t really want that. Because my face is actually kind of important to me, and I don’t want just anyone to see it. I want people who I care about to see it first, and if I don’t mind after that, other people can see it.”
“So, it’s like armor, but not really for yourself? It’s more like armor for the people you care about?” Dream says, and he slightly shrugs.
“Guess if you think of it like that, then yeah.”
They arrive at the house not too long after that, and Techno sighs in relief once he catches sight of the chimney pushing out smoke, his body relaxing once he sees the wood and stone still standing. It’s a slight worry of his, that one day,he will return from hunting or fishing or doing something, and his entire world will be on fire. (He says slight worry, but some nights, he wakes up from nightmares of this exact scenario, and they always end the same, with him finding the bodies and a shovel being in his hand when he stands up.)
He pulls Dream along and opens the door, sighing in relief when the warm air from inside hits him, warming him instantly. He closes the door behind the two ghosts once they’re inside, and when he turns around, he’s greeted to the sight of Phil standing in his kitchen with his wings unfurled, mouth slightly open as he stares.
“Phil! I didn’t realize that you were home?” Techno says, continuing to hold onto Dream’s hand, and the man blinks, before smiling, nodding.
“Yeah! Only got home a few minutes ago. The gremlin is asleep in your bed, by the way. He got scared when we were out because a zombie nearly killed him. So now he’s just. Lying there.” Phil tells him as he pokes the meat that’s in the furnace, and Techno blinks.
“I- Okay.” He says, and gently, he lets go of Dream’s hand. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” Dream says, and he gives him a small smile before moving to his room.
-
When he returns, he finds the ghost of Dream asleep on the couch in between Phil and Wilbur, head leaning on the brunette’s shoulder, eyes closed and a hand still holding onto the others. He looks so quiet and gentle that Techno can’t help but wonder how much of his death changed him.
“I thought ghosts couldn’t sleep?” He asks, and Phil shrugs.
“Thought so too. But I’m starting to think that Wilbur may have just been the exception to all of this ghostly shit.”
“Hey!” Wilbur protests, but he does it quietly, and Techno knows it’s because of the man asleep on his shoulder.
“So I see we’ve adopted another boy already.” Techno says, and when Phil looks up to protest, he only has to raise an eyebrow for Phil to sigh.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Phil says, and Techno grins. “Don’t tell anyone, or else I’ll get outed as a softie.”
“People already know you’re a softy, Phil. They just know of your history, so they don’t fuck with you.” Wilbur says quietly, his hand messing with Dream’s hair gently.
“What ‘history’ do you mean, Wilbur?” Phil asks, shifting slightly on the couch, and Techno settles on the floor in front of the fire, crossing his legs as he waits for Wilbur to tell the story. (Story is a generous term, because Wilbur truly doesn’t know all of it. He only ever makes it sound like he knows a lot, when truly, he doesn’t know that much.)
“The Antarctic Empire. That’s what I’m talking about! I don’t know much of it, if I’m being honest, but they’ve clearly heard the nickname that you gained, if their whispers are anything to go by, so I’m not surprised that they haven’t gone after you, really.” Wilbur says, his hand never stopping in Dream’s hair.
“What nickname? I genuinely didn’t know I had one.” Phil says, and Wilbur grins.
“So you haven't known you’re called the ‘Angel of Death’?” Wilbur says, doing the quotes with one hand, and Phil freezes.
“That’s my nickname? Jesus.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Now I see why everyone likes to stay away.”
“Yeah, but not us!” Wilbur grins. “We love you.”
“I know you two do.” Phil grins. “That’s why I love you as well.”
They sit in the silence for a few minutes longer, the fire crackling, before Techno rises, stretching his back when he’s fully stood up, fixing the skull on his face.
“I think that I’m going to go to bed now, so goodnight.” He gives a wave as he leaves, and when he’s gone and the fire shines on Wilbur and Dream more fully, Phil sighs.
“I think I’m going to retire to bed as well. Make sure he’s okay for me, alright?” Phil gets up from the couch, and Wilbur nods, smiling up at Phil.
“I will, Phil, don’t worry. I won’t let my little brother be hurt on his own.”
Phil’s eyes soften at that, and he ducks to give Wilbur a gentle kiss on the forehead before doing the same to Dream and leaving, giving him a wave as he leaves.
Then, it’s just the two of them left in the room, left to their own thoughts.
Just two ghosts left by themselves.
A haunted sight.