Chapter Text
A cloud of comfy sheets and bleary, half-conscious lids were the first things covering Tubbo’s vision in the morning. Blinking away the dregs of sleep still clinging to his mind, Tubbo slowly dragged away the sheets covering his face, at first confused by the too-polished ceilings, the overly pristine furniture and overall cleanliness of the room around him. But once he turned his head, and saw Ranboo sleeping on the bed beside his own, the events of last night all came rushing back into his memory.
He and Ranboo had been having a blast on their private jet. Tubbo had downloaded the entirety of South Park onto his laptop’s hard drive, and had been spending the time by watching his favorite episodes with Ranboo. They had laughed, thrown popcorn at each other, and made wild guesses about the internet response to Dream’s face reveal. Tubbo had of course made a jab at Ranboo, because ‘who knew the green bastard would show his face before you?’ which Ranboo had simply responded to with ‘the world isn’t ready to see my face yet.’
How simple and naive those conversations seemed now.
Tubbo groaned a bit as he forced his limbs to move, sitting up and reaching an arm out to his phone. Turning on the screen, he frowned as he saw the time was 1:20 p.m. They must have been a lot more jet-lagged than they thought.
“Ranboo,” he called out, eliciting a tired sigh from the taller teen still lying down.
“Lemme s’eep.” Ranboo mumbled back, rolling onto his side to face away from Tubbo.
Tubbo promptly threw a pillow straight at Ranboo’s head, causing an even louder groan to emanate from his friend.
“It’s 1:20 in the afternoon, Ranboo!” Tubbo informed him chipperly, determined to wake up Ranboo so that he wasn’t alone. “We should do something, explore the streets of Florida! Not just lay here sleeping!”
“You’re one to talk, Mr. 16 hour sleep schedule.” Ranboo grumbled, reluctantly forcing himself to sit up and glare at Tubbo. “You always slept in late at home, and you didn’t have jet lag to blame there.”
A small surge of happiness filled Tubbo as he heard Ranboo refer to the UK as ‘home,’ but he decided not to comment on that word choice right now. “Well, doesn’t mean we have to do that here, too.”
“I know.” Ranboo’s words came out a bit slurred, his voice cracking as he yawned mid-sentence. “But after what Sapnap told us, I’m not sure wandering willy-nilly through Florida is such a great idea, either.”
Tubbo frowned again, releasing a heavy sigh as Sapnap’s words once again ran through his head.
“The reason there has been no face reveal, is because George and Bad went missing. Right before they could get to our house, they were….kidnapped, which is why you two need to be really careful. We have no idea how much these criminals know, and whether they might be after you as well.”
“I can’t believe they got kidnapped, just like that.” Tubbo mumbled, crossing his legs over each other as he voiced his thoughts. “How could they have possibly known which flight George was on? Which airport? Or who was picking him up? They’d have to be in our personal Dream SMP server, wouldn’t they?”
“Not necessarily.” Ranboo replied, his tone sounding slightly more alert. “We don’t know if Dream, George, Sapnap, Bad, or anyone else in our server might have let family or friends know. These kidnappers might also have an informant connected with the airport records, or someone who’s able to check receipts somehow. After all, there is an entire subtwitter dedicated to revealing information about us.”
Tubbo nodded, grimly remembering the controversy regarding ‘leaktwt’ earlier that year. They were supposed fans who were constantly trying to unearth personal details about all of the Dream SMP members, and had almost successfully doxxed Tommy before. A majority of them were also fanatical ‘Wilbur x George’ shippers, and he doubted they would be happy about Dream and George meeting up and solidifying their friendship.
“I guess that’s true.” Playing with the bedsheets around him, Tubbo avoided meeting Ranboo’s eyes. “I just can’t believe something like this would happen. Like I know there are bad people in the world, but to go this far…” He swallowed, a knot in his throat blocking his voice. Tubbo knew it was stupid to get this torn up, especially after Sapnap had assured them the police were on the case and were doing all they could. But the possibility still remained that he may never see his friend George again, or get to become good friends with Bad…that they might be gone forever.
“Hey.” Ranboo’s bed creaked as he stood up, slowly walking over to Tubbo and sitting beside him. “It’ll be alright, we just need to have faith they’ll be found and come home safe.”
Tubbo shook his head. “You can’t promise that, Ranboo. We have no idea if they’ll be found at all!”
Ranboo sighed. “Yes, but moping about it won’t do them any good.” Trying to force a smile, Ranboo squeezed Tubbo’s shoulder and spoke in a more light-hearted tone. “And I know it’s not the same as going sight-seeing, but maybe we could spend some time in the hotel pool? We won’t even have to vlog it, we can just unwind and have fun.”
Tubbo sniffed, still trying to avoid tears as he took in Ranboo’s offer. “Do we really…do we deserve to have fun, if they’re going through…all that?”
“Yes, Tubbo.” When Ranboo saw Tubbo still looked uncertain, he added “We can even make plans to have dinner with Dream and Sapnap, and you can ask them more questions then. Does that sound good?”
Tubbo slowly nodded, a small smile finally returning to his face. “Yeah, I think I can live with that.”
“Alright, great.” Ranboo smiled, relieved that he had averted Tubbo’s moping. “Now let’s get into swimsuits…I don’t fancy swimming in pajamas.”
White walls. White curtains, white blankets, and white carpet. Cream-colored vases and lampshades breaking the pattern of whiteness, occasional black frames adding more sharply to the contrast. Bright, blinding light that offered no solace from the overwhelming blankness of the room.
Skeppy wasn’t sure when he had begun to hyperfixate on the state of his rented apartment room. He had just entered the kitchen area, maneuvering around the island counter and taking out a bag of chips. Normally, he would just grab his snack, head to the couch, and watch some mind-numbing Netflix show or movie. Anything to keep his thoughts still, from heading in the one direction he was trying to avoid.
But as his steps had stopped at the counter, he paused, and one by one the mental spiral came circling through his psyche.
He had purposefully stocked all the drawers with snacks, brought in groceries and easy-prepped meals into his fridge because he thought there’d be more than one person partaking in them. Skeppy had been filled with excitement for once, wanting to try cooking for Bad and surprising his friend, film some videos of them cooking together, making food-related tier lists, and finding out if his friend could really stop himself from cursing when seeing Skeppy’s horrible culinary skills.
As his eyes lingered around the near colorless room, Skeppy decided that he hated modern architecture after all.
It was such a meaningless thought. Completely disjointed from the bitter regrets and wishes currently filling his head, but Skeppy still clenched his fist and doubled down on this inward decision. He hated this, how sterilized and devoid of any personal life or creativity the apartment was. He used to dream about living in a place like this, of being rich enough to afford upper class living, but now that he was here he couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t understand the technologically advanced microwaves and ovens, didn’t see the need for intricate chandeliers on the ceiling when a simple lightbulb would do. He couldn’t figure out how he deserved this much open space, all for himself, when all Skeppy wanted was to be with his friend.
Skeppy was content with Bad’s friendship. Even if he didn’t maintain his wealth, or fame, or gaming career…he would be happy if he could just know Bad was safe.
So why couldn’t he have the one thing he wanted?
Why did Bad have to get ripped away from him, right when they were finally going to be together?
Skeppy’s pensive queries were interrupted, the discord ‘bloop’ of an incoming call abruptly halting his thoughts. Skeppy jumped, almost dropping his phone as he quickly drew it out of his hoodie pocket and then turned it up so he could see the screen.
When he saw who was calling, Skeppy just sighed and returned the phone to his pocket. It might be rude, but he didn’t have the emotional stamina to have a talk with Puffy right now. She could deal with being left on read, just this once.
He had just popped open the bag of Cheetos when he heard more discord bloops coming from his pocket. He exhaled in annoyance, popping a handful of chips in before taking the phone out again. Sure enough, Puffy was spamming his messages with caps-locked text, angrily demanding he pick up the phone.
For a minute, Skeppy debated just texting her ‘no’ and letting her continue a one-ended tirade as he turned his phone off, but he wasn’t quite mean enough to do that. Not to Puffy, who had acted as him and Bad’s therapist friend on too many occasions to count. She deserved to have her questions answered, at least for Bad’s sake.
So when Skeppy saw her calling again, he picked up. “Hullo?”
“SKEPPY” She yelled immediately, Skeppy holding the phone several inches away from his ear with a wince. “DON’T YOU DARE HANG UP ON ME AGAIN!!!”
“Alright, I won’t!” he yelled back, his ears ringing. “But can you speak more softly–”
“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I’VE BEEN!?” Puffy cried, her voice cracking with obvious emotion. “Here I am, thinking you and Bad are finally going to meet up, and the next thing I know Dream is telling me he’s been kidnapped!!! Why didn’t you say anything?!”
“I–I didn’t want to get you upset!” Skeppy replied, scowling at the mention of Dream. He was getting seriously pissed off at that guy…he better not have told anyone outside of their discord friends.
“So what, you wanted to ghost me instead?” Puffy’s voice came through the phone, pure disbelief in her tone. “Don’t you think that would have made me upset too?”
“Yes, no, I just—I don’t know!” Skeppy threw up his hands, his voice sounding gravelly and tired. “I just didn’t want to stress you out about this!”
“Well, there’s no stopping that from happening.” Puffy replied sarcastically, letting out a heavy sigh that penetrated through the phone line. Honestly, Skeppy could relate…ever since he had gotten the news from Sapnap and Dream, his muscles were perpetually tense, as if holding in all the worry and fear to stop himself from breaking.
“How are you holding up?” Puffy asked, and Skeppy let out a mirthless laugh.
“Oh, just great. It’s not like my best friend of several years is missing, kidnapped, and completely helpless in a horrible situation while I’m just standing here, useless and completely unable to save him. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”
“Skeppy.” Puffy’s voice was serious, worry making her tone a little deeper than it normally was. “You know you’re not to blame for this, right?”
“I know!” Skeppy was quick to respond, unable to withhold irritation from her coddling words. “I know, but I just keep thinking about it! What if I had forced Bad to let me come along, to meet up with him before Dream instead of at the same time? What if my clues about the meetup online led the kidnappers to finding him and George? How can I know for certain that I didn’t cause this?!”
“Well, how can you know for certain that you did?” Puffy responded, her voice brusque and firm. “Look Skeppy, I know for a fact that if Bad was around, he would be telling you how stupid it is to blame yourself in this situation. Just keep your chin up, and hold out hope he’ll be found.”
Skeppy bit his lip. He wasn’t entirely convinced, and he was a bit taken aback by how abrasive Puffy’s response was…she was usually a lot more collected in their mock therapy sessions. But in a way, Skeppy needed a more crude response right now. Hearing her state the bare facts was helpful in a way that mere pity wasn’t, and Skeppy could almost perfectly hear Bad as well. C’mon S'geppy, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known about this.
But Skeppy could also envision a multitude of horrible possibilities Bad might be going through right now, and he numbly shook his head.
“Thanks Puffy, I just don’t know if I can hold out hope right now.”
Puffy let out a sad noise of acknowledgement. “Aight, well, you know you can talk to me whenever you want, alright? I was planning to head down to Florida soon too, so maybe we can even meet in person.”
Skeppy gasped. “Really? Really, after everything that’s happened, you want to come here and take that sort of chance?!”
“Relax Skeppy, I go to Florida like, once a year for vacation.” Skeppy could practically hear her rolling her eyes through her words. “And the chances of that happening to lil old me, with only 200k subs, are pretty low.”
“But not impossible.” Skeppy muttered.
“Seriously, chill.” Puffy laughed. “I’m sure that by the time I drive down there, this whole situation will be cleared up anyway.”
Skeppy sighed. He wished he could have the amount of confidence Puffy did, and be able to believe the assertive predictions of her words. He almost envied how unbothered she was by this whole situation…sure, her voice was more shaky and filled with worry, but she genuinely seemed to believe they’d have a positive conclusion. That they would get George and Bad back, safe and unharmed.
Skeppy hoped they’d come back safe. But he was certain they wouldn’t return unharmed.
“Maybe you’re right.” Skeppy leaned back against the counter, closing his eyes and trying to picture a happy reunion with George and Bad. The mental image almost made Puffy’s words feel more real, and a slow, tentative smile breached his lips for the first time in hours.
“Of course I am.” Puffy responded with the same confidence, a smile evident through her cheerful tone as well. “Now you should go relax, I’m sure getting more sleep will help you cheer up.”
Skeppy blinked, unsure how Puffy knew he had been missing sleep, but decided it must be her genius intuition at work again. He nodded unseeingly in agreement. “Alright, I will Puffy.”
The two youtubers exchanged goodbyes, and then Skeppy put his phone down, roughly wiping away the tear that had drifted down his cheek during the conversation. Before he could return to his chip bag, however, another beep rung out from his phone, and he pulled it out once more with a grunt of annoyance.
Tubbo: Want to join me, Ranboo, Dream and Sapnap for dinner?
Dream was, in every meaning of the word, exhausted.
Hearing George’s pained screams through the phone had taken years off his life, his limbs feeling heavy and his mind clouded after the rushed money transfer and various phone calls he had made. First he had given the number Justin used to the police, then called protective services for him and Sapnap at the house, and then responded to some calls from discord friends. His longest conversation had been with Quackity, as the law student had wanted to know every single detail about the night it had happened. Dream had done all he could to fill him in, but it was depressing to remember how happy and excited he had been right before everything went so horribly wrong.
Then he had called his mom, and asked her to take Drista and leave.
She had been confused at first, wondering what had gotten into him, but after hearing about his phone call with Justin and the blackmailing had gone quiet. Dream didn’t need to spell it out…she could tell he was worried for her and Drista, scared they might be used as a form of blackmail next. After all, Justin knew their faces…had links to their personal Facebook and Snapchat accounts, could dox them whenever he wished. And while Dream didn’t think he had that in mind, he also didn’t think Justin was a kidnapper or a criminal until this past week.
So he had to be the one to explain to Sapnap why they were packing suitcases into the car.
“Dude, why are your mom and sis leaving?!” Sapnap demanded, marching into the kitchen with an incredulous look. “Isn’t this their house?”
“Yes, but I don’t know if they can be safe here.” Dream responded, too weary to look straight at Sapnap. “I hired some bodyguards, like mom suggested, for all four of us. I just don’t want my mom and sister to be here if the house gets targeted, or a fight breaks out.”
“What?!” Sapnap sputtered, looking between Dream and the window where Drista and Dream’s mom could be seen packing. They looked to be almost finished, Drista throwing one more pair of shoes on top of a suitcase before Dream’s mom closed the trunk. Sapnap rounded on Dream once more, indignant shock sharpening his features. “So because you’re scared for them, they’re just gonna head to a hotel or something?!”
“We have a timeshare in the lower section of Florida, near Miami.” Dream explained, “and it’s not too long a drive, only 250 miles. But it should be safe from…the gang situation we have going on now.” He sighed.
Sapnap raised his hands. “Okay, first thing; a timeshare? Horrible investment choice.” He snorted. “Second of all, why are you so worried about them going after us directly? Did you talk with Justin?”
Dream hesitated, tracing his finger over the lines in their wood counter and taking a deep breath as he put his thoughts together. Looking up through tousled, sunburnt blond hair, he responded to Sapnap with another question of his own. “Sapnap, if you got really famous…like, more than you are now, like Hollywood levels of famous, would you still talk to me?”
Sapnap blinked, leaning back against the wall in confusion. “Dude, where did that come from?”
Dream just continued to stare at him, and Sapnap sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to respond until he got an answer.
“Of course, dude. We’ve known each other since before puberty…I would always make time to talk with you, and see how you’re doing.” He shuffled over to face Dream, placing his elbows onto the counter less than an inch’s space from Dream’s arms. “I don’t care if you get ‘cancelled’ or some other shit….we’re friends to the end, always.”
Dream nodded, trying to swallow but failing to avoid the tangle of emotions rising in his chest. “I–thank you, Sapnap.”
“Of course, man.” Sapnap said, smiling under the wide brim of his black cap. “Now are you willing to explain what’s going on?”
Dream nodded again. “Yeah. Justin called earlier this morning, and…he used George to blackmail me.”
“Oh my god!” Sapnap exclaimed, shaking his head vehemently with a look so dark, it rivaled the shade of his hair. “What did he do to George?! Do you think he’s blackmailing Skeppy with Bad, too?!”
Dream shook his head. “No, I don’t think he’s after Skeppy. From what he said, it seems he’s mainly after me.” Dream clasped his hands together tightly, a grim look on his face as he recalled the conversation between him, Justin, and George.
“Did he say why he was mad at you?” Sapnap prodded, a fierce look continuing to burn in his eyes.
“He said I needed to be taught a lesson.” Dream sighed, raising his hands helplessly. “I have no clue what lesson that is, though.”
“Maybe it’s a lesson about how people you thought were friends turn out to be evil, horrible bastards.” Sapnap said, clenching his fists.
Dream let out a choking sound, putting a hand over his mouth. While Sapnap’s words had been wrathful and directed at Justin, they also acted as a puzzle piece, fitting together the clues in Dream’s head. The years of miscommunication, the endless apologies and lack of following through, with their first correspondence being the reveal of George and Bad’s capture…this was all Justin’s way of throwing back Dream’s horrible friendship back on him, on getting his own twisted form of revenge.
“Dream?” Sapnap noticed Dream go still, tears starting to brim up in his eyes, and he reached out to place a hand on his older friend’s shoulder.
Dream roughly shook it away, backing away from Sapnap with a fearful, trapped look on his face. “This is all my fault…Sapnap, THIS IS ALL MY FAULT!”
“Calm down!” Sapnap pleaded, following Dream and bringing up his hands in a soothing gesture. “This is all Justin’s doing, it has nothing to do with you–”
“He wouldn’t have done this if I had just been there for him!” Dream yelled, aware how crazed and frantic his words sounded, but unable to stop. “It’s all because of my actions that he’s doing this, if I had never met him, this wouldn’t be happening to George and Bad!”
Sapnap opened his mouth to respond, but was stopped by a pinging notification sound on his phone. He shot a quick apologetic look to Dream, before flicking his phone screen on and thumbing through it.
“Looks like Tubbo and Ranboo want to have dinner with us.” Sapnap spoke into the air wearily, his shoulders slumping forward with obvious stress.
Dream rubbed off the tear tracks still falling down his face, taking several deep breaths before attempting to speak again. He didn’t want to be blowing up at Sapnap, not when he’d been there for him for so many years. It was like Sapnap had said, they were friends till the end, and right now Dream was just abusing that friendship by unloading his emotional baggage on him.
“7 p.m. should be good.” Dream said first, releasing all the leftover tension in his voice before continuing. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, Sapnap.”
Sapnap nodded. “It’s fine man…just don’t put all the blame on yourself. Tearing yourself apart is what Justin wants, so don’t give him that satisfaction.”
Dream stepped back, eying Sapnap with a shocked look. He let out a half-crazed chuckle, and mumbled “Now when did you get so wise?”
“What do you mean? I’ve always been smart.” Sapnap replied smugly, causing a more genuine burst of laughter from Dream.
“I think your C average school grades would beg to differ.”
“Oh, shut up!”
As the two of them continued to playfully bicker, some of the wound up tension and stress started to dissapate between them, and much needed energy and excitement took it’s place. Despite the unknown states of George and Bad, regardless of the darkening future approaching, making plans to meet with their other twitch friends was like a tiny pinprick of hope, showing them that maybe things weren’t as bleak as they seemed.
Justin casually turned aside from his computer screens, cracking his knuckles with a pleased smile on his lips. He had managed to gather quite the crowd of interested buyers on his black market groupchats, piquing thousands of anons with his offer of a decently well-known influencer on the human market. Sure, there had been some skeptics arguing he had a fake, but he would quickly put those doubts to rest.
Pressing a button next to his intercom system, he called out “Agent Medusa, please come up to the main office asap.”
Taking up his phone, he decided to run up some calculations on his phone while he waited. With the average lump income of $1,350,000 to $1,400,000 from selling drugs, trafficking, and money laundering, but the $50,000 from Dream’s generous donation, they should have plenty of money for upkeeping their current facilities and paying his employees. The gang should have at least $100,000 available to transfer Justin’s newest ‘merchandise’ to whatever location their new owner would pick them up.
He was just about to start adding up more figures when the door before him opened, and he perked his head up. “Ah, Sylvie, welcome!”
Sylvie, or ‘Agent Medusa’ as she was known with the other gang members, simply snorted from across the room. She was a thin, gangly woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties, with bright red hair tucked behind a tie-dyed headband and dress. Her facial features were overemphasized, dark makeup sharpening her already gaunt edges.
“Ya’ wanted me?” She asked, and Justin nodded.
“Yes, we have a particularly popular trafficking auction coming up, but I’m afraid our merchandise is…severely bruised. I want you to work your magic, make him look good as new for the sale tonight.”
She shrugged. “Yore the boss. Where is the sucker?”
“I’ll take you to him myself.” Justin said, rising out of his chair with a sickeningly saccharine grin. “I have to pre-inspect the product, after all.”