Chapter Text
There are no mourners at Schlatt’s funeral. The Captain is there, as is Erebus, the remaining two founders forced to attend out of propriety if nothing else, but Orpheus does his work well. After everything he spread through calculated data dumps and sweet-voiced speeches on live television, no one wants to admit to liking Schlatt. Not that many people liked him to begin with.
The second casket is attended by a few more people, but not by much. Sapnap and George, Tommy and Tubbo, Ranboo under a ludicrously oversized umbrella, just in case the heavy gray clouds decide to open up in rain. Not because Hermes has a reputation so tarnished that there wouldn’t be more, but because the funeral had been held privately at the request of his loved ones. Then again, Hermes didn’t come out of the whole mess squeaky clean either.
Dream watches his own funeral with a sense of disconnect and wonders how the hell Sapnap is keeping a straight face.
He’s perched up on the roof of one of the mausoleums, tail coiled around his waist with its fluff of fur resting in his lap. The hoodie he’s wearing is a garish shade of pink, but nobody in this damn city seems to look up, so he’s probably fine. His nullifier is still wrapped around his little finger, but he wants to get used to wearing his skin again, so he’s leaving it off for now. If they actually let him out on patrol later, he’ll activate it then.
“So like, is the casket actually empty?” He doesn’t hear Techno arrive, but he doesn’t flinch at the sound of his voice either, just tips his head back to look at his chin. Unlike Dream, Techno is actually dressed for a funeral, black suit jacket and black jeans, one of his Protesilaus button-ups standing in place of his usual flowing poet's shirt. Somewhere in the cemetery, Wilbur and Phil are dressed up as well, out of respect for the setting and their meeting with the Captain later.
“I put snacks in it,” Dream says as Techno sits down next to him, letting his legs dangle off the edge as well. Slowly, falteringly, his tail uncoils and wraps around Techno’s waist, a sharp twinge of pain shooting up through his spine when it shifts slightly wrong in the motion.
The Syndicate has a healer, but there’s only so much one man can do. After a week, Dream can walk, can run, but the nerves don’t always work right and his discs and vertebrae are always going to be prone to slippage around the place where his back broke. The lung had been more important to fix in the moment, and it’s something of a miracle that he can feel anything below his ribs at all.
A miracle, or something else. No one can see them but Techno and Erebus, Dream when he squints, but words wrap around his arms in a script no one else can read. He wants to try a blacklight someday, because he has the feeling it might be important to tell if his newest secret will slip free. Dream of the End, the Queen had called him, and he thinks he might finally have an idea of what that means.
“Why,” Techno asks, voice slow and careful, “did you put snacks in your casket, Dream.”
“It’s a secure location sized for my body, and I had the funeral home put in a line for air to it. If I’m in this part of the city and I need a place to hide, can’t think of anywhere better than six feet under, can you?” He lets himself lean sideways, cheek propped on Techno’s shoulder, as warm fingers start to run through his fur.
“Uh, yes. Several. An empty apartment. An abandoned car. A dumpster you can open from the inside. One of these mausoleums that isn’t literally buried.” He feels Techno lean sideways too, the sharp edge of his jaw brushing against the crown of Dream’s head. The hand not occupied with his tail slowly curls around his waist, the muscles in his arm firm against Dream’s back.
“Nope. My hiding spot is still the best. You can’t beat it, so don’t even try.” The mourners start to pack up to leave, the Captain resting her hand on Ranboo’s shoulder for a long moment—she has to nearly stand on her toes to manage, and he ends up bent over a little to make it easier—before she turns to walk deeper into the cemetery. The kids leave, Erebus following close at their heels, and Sapnap heads for an exit closer to the street that will take him to seventh district. George is the last one to remain, standing at Dream’s gravestone until even the gravediggers are gone.
Then he crouches, fishing around until he can make sure the air tube is free. Task complete, he stands, looks dead at where Dream and Techno are sitting, and mouths the word ‘simp’ before turning to trudge off on his own as well.
“Was he talkin’ to you or me?” Techno asks, disgruntled.
“Does it really matter?” The sky is getting darker, and Dream doesn’t like the look of those clouds. Reluctantly he pulls himself out of Techno’s arms, getting his feet under himself before standing and stretching.
It hurts. It might always hurt. But he’s got a future to hurt in, so that’s not such a terrible fate.
“We have, like, six hours before it’s dark enough to go out on patrol,” Techno says, copying him. “Assuming you’re still planning on doing that.”
“Did you buy me another hoodie?” Dream asks, thumbing at his ring until he feels the nullifier activate, the disguise settling over his features. He thinks he can tell where this is going.
“I did, yeah, but I wasn’t sure Nightmare was going to be active without some big bad to target.” Techno jumps to the ground, flexing his knees as he lands, then looks up. A single droplet of rain lands on his glasses, and he makes a noise like he’s dying.
Dream laughs, then teleports down next to him, letting Techno open up his umbrella even if the rain hasn’t really started yet. He takes the chance to lean into Techno’s side, tucked up under one arm, and they start to walk, in sync in a way that only five years of fighting each other can bring. “I have other stuff to look into. I want to keep an eye on the sixth, obviously—”
“That is literally our job. Stop doin’ our job.”
“—and I’m going to find Sapnap’s dad.” That makes Techno fall quiet at his side, only the slowly growing sound of rain hitting the ground accompanying them to the cemetery gates. “Something about his disappearance isn’t right. Schlatt blocked all investigations, but he’s dead now, and I’m not a hero anymore anyways. So I’m going to find him.”
“Sounds like kind of a long term project,” Techno observes, putting his body between Dream and the street when they step out onto the sidewalk. There isn’t even enough water on the road for splashing to be a problem, but the gesture is sweet.
“Sure does,” Dream says, letting Techno turn them towards a deli that he’s mentioned once or twice. “Know anybody who might be able to help me with that?”
Techno grins at him and says, “I can think of some people.”