Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sapnap rushes over, crouching but not touching. “Hey, Dream? Buddy?”

Dream is shaking, stuttering breaths. His hands are tangled in his hair. He doesn’t respond to Sapnap in any way, and Sap isn’t even sure he heard what he’d said, so he tries again. “Buddy, come on, it’s just me.” He might be having a… flashback? That’s what it could be, right? Maybe it’s like a nightmare and Sap just has to steer it away. “Breathe, Dream. Just breathe. It’s okay.”

Dream’s hands twitch.

“There you go, just me, just Sapnap. No need to panic. We’re at home.”

Dream’s hands twitch again and Sap opts to risk it, pulling them away and rubbing circles into his palms. No violent reaction follows, so he assumes he did the right thing. “I’m just talking to fill the silence. You’re okay. I don’t think what I’m saying really matters, but you’re okay. We’re safe.”

A few moments pass and Dream tightens his grip, enough to know it was a conscious effort. Sap just continues his motions and his mindless chatter until Dream is breathing normally, still curled up.

“Dream?” he tries, “Can you hear me?”

Dream moves slowly, nodding but keeping his head down.

“That’s good. That’s good, uhm… Can you– Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Sap feels the grip tighten. “It’s okay if you can’t. I just wanna help.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” he does his best to keep his voice calm. “Why are you sorry? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Dream shakes his head and Sap worries he’s going to hit the tile. “I– I’m sorry. I’m sorry, please– I’m sorry–”

“Hey, it’s okay! Calm down,” Sap says, but it feels useless when Dream is obviously not on his wavelength. “You’re okay, you’re alright! You–” he sighs. “Crap, what do I do…”

He can’t do this by himself. He can’t call George. Bad? But Bad doesn’t know what’s going on and Dream wouldn’t appreciate the reveal. …who’s left?

(Sap almost laughs at the impulsive thought to call Punz. He may be desperate, but he’s not that desperate… not yet, at least.)

“I’m sorry,” Dream babbles tearfully, “I– I can be good, I promise, I’m sorry I–”

“Wait, what?” he stops at the words. “What do you mean by good?”

Dream shakes his head aggressively. Seems he isn’t getting an answer that way. What does he– What can he do?

“Hey, Dream, you–” he prays to every single god he remembers. “You are good. You’re doing good.”

Dream’s breath hitches. Sap, albeit hesitantly, continues, “You’re doing great, actually. You’re so good. It’s okay. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

He feels like he’s talking to a fucking dog, but it’s likely Dream wasn’t treated like much more, either, maybe even less than that. Is this right? Sapnap feels lost.

Dream, though, is calming down. He slowly, ever so slowly, looks up. His face is red and there’s still tears running down his cheeks, but he’s… he’s aware, his eyes aren’t glassy and he’s looking at Sapnap. Not meeting his eyes, but actually looking at him. It’s enough for Sapnap to ask, softly, “Back with me?”

Dream shakes his head. Sap is still holding his hands. “That’s alright. You’re good,” he breathes, barely above the air conditioning in the other room, “Take your time.”

Dream sets his head back onto the tile and Sapnap waits, because it’s what Dream deserves. He deserves time.

The purple drips from the ceiling, puddling on the floor with the red already beside it. Sixty-seven. Dream follows the motions, counting the drops. Sixty-eight.

He rolls over, panting from the pain. At least he’s free, now. Or… as free as it gets. He stares at the obsidian. It doesn’t stare back because it isn’t alive.

There’s still a week before Techno arrives, and that’s if everything goes to plan. Maybe Techno’s busy. Maybe something goes wrong in any of their lives. Maybe they will leave him to rot, as– No, wait, wrong people. It’s hard to tell them apart.

At least he doesn’t have the cell, out of Submersion. It’s only here that he has to stare at blank walls. Eighty-three. The floor still feels safer, though. He likes the soft, and the warmth, but it isn’t solid. Obsidian is unmoving, unrelenting. It’s easier to break than bend. Sap claims it’s worrying but doesn’t stop him because Dream’s just chasing the familiar. He craves it, above all: something to cling to that’s just his.

He can’t think in this cell. It makes him sluggish and anxious and flighty and numb and anything else to describe the mixture of emotions. The cell shouldn’t let him think. He can’t think here because he shouldn’t. It isn’t his job. He should listen. To what? The guardians or the pistons? The dispensers? The droplets?

Ninety-nine. He’s just alone here. Nobody to guide him.

“You know…” Dream starts, swirling his drink, “I don’t think I thank you enough for, uh… taking care of me.”

“What do you mean?”

They’re laying on the bedroom floor, lights dimmed enough to not cause Dream a headache but bright enough for Sapnap to still see.

“I mean… I dunno, just… taking care of me! Being there. Caring, at all… I guess.”

Sap huffs. “Of course I would. You’re my brother.”

“Well yeah, there was someone else who used to say that, and look how that turned out.”

There’s a sad sigh. “…you haven’t spoken about them much.”

“Well, it fucking hurts.” A bitter laugh. “They all hate me. Except, uh… Punz, and Techno, and maybe George. I dunno what his ideas were.”

“Doesn’t Bad have plans?”

“Not canon yet.” Dream tracks the motion of the liquid against the walls of the bottle. “Don’t count.”

Sap shuffles a little, putting an arm under his head and turning to Dream. It’d look like they were stargazing, if they weren’t inside. “It’s so weird,” he mumbles, “Stuff I take as fact you just dismiss.”

Dream pauses. He sets the drink down. “Well, yeah, it hasn’t happened. The scripts don’t matter, do they?”

“But you’d know what is going on once it does happen.”

“Okay, first of all,” Dream raises a hand and starts to count on his fingers, “Y’all don’t know shit about your characters. Some of you mis- misch- mischaract-ise yourselves! So you’re not exactly reliable sources.

Second, these are real people, Sapnap! I don’t care if they’re technically scripted. They’re separate. Take your cee-characters and toss ‘em.” Dream sighs. “They’re not the same as all of you. You don’t know them.” He looks to Sapnap, and Sap sees the sadness somewhere in his gaze. “You will never know them.”

Dream turns back to the ceiling. “Please don’t treat my life like it’s a plot. It doesn’t feel good.”

Sap sighs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I’d been doing that.”

Dream turns fully to Sapnap, arms keeping his head off the floor. “It’s… ugh, it’s okay. Whatever. It’s hard, I get it.”

Looking at his friend, Sap wonders for the first time what Dream looks like in the other world. “Would you… would you tell me? About them?”

“Sapnap–”

“Not like– Not like their deepest secrets! Just, like… I don’t know, regular things. Introduce them to me.”

Dream sighs. He thinks through all the people he knows. “Wanna hear about my Sapnap?”

“Sure,” he says, also turning so they’re facing each other. They’re not touching but he feels Dream’s hair tickle his hands.

“Okay, well… Sap is… Sap’s stubborn. He’s fucking loud. He snores and then blames it on me, even though nobody believes him because he’s stupid. Still wants to cuddle, though.

He made me magma cream pasta once. Made me so sick he’s been banned from every kitchen, forever.” Dream chuckles. “It was good, though. Humans just can’t digest that.”

“Humans?”

“Oh, yeah, Sap isn’t human. He’s, uh… Something nether. Don’t think he like– knows either, honestly. I’m just… just regular-ass human.” He chuckles. “Thank Prime. Would’ve been a weird adjustment.”

Sap decides to risk it. “So you look the same as here?”

Dream grins something mocking. “Well, not anymore. No, I have, like… fully white hair. Was shorter than usual, I think. And I was quite buff, I guess. But most of us are. Uh… I think my eyes are greener, for some reason. I dunno.” He looks away. “I don’t really, uh… remember. I guess.”

“That’s alright.”

“Yeah. I know.” He looks back, and his smile is a lot easier, even if a bit lopsided. He still seems a bit upset, though. Dream rubs at his forehead. “Uh, back to… to the others. I dunno. Who else?”

Sap sighs. He doesn’t like the sad tone their conversation veered into. “You wanna tell me about Punz?”

Dream’s eyes visibly light up, and Sap knows he succeeded. “Oh, I’d fucking love to.”

He shakes his head with a fond smile. “Go ahead, man. Go ahead.”

Dream can’t help his leg shaking enough to make his desk tremble. He’s excited. He’s beyond excited. He has to muffle his stimming enough to still sound angry when he screams into the mic, but he thinks he succeeds. He knows he isn’t considered one of the best actors, but the Vault streams have earned him somewhat of a reputation. He sure plays an exhausted, angry and downright terrified prisoner well.

(As always: what part of it is acting, what part is his real feelings… that’s for him to know.)

Even as he yells for Techno to not enter, laments the loss of an outside ally, tries to make his voice loud and angry just to break it down again, he can’t help the smile in his voice. Blame him for it, he doesn’t care. Techno at least tolerates him, which is far more than can be said for his previous visitors.

Eventually Techno ends his stream and, while he’s doing some post-stream desktop clean-up, Dream speaks up, “That went well!”

 “They’re still spammin’ noooo’s. It’s almost like it’s supposed to be unfortunate, or somethin’.” Techno’s still clicking absently, but he sounds content.

Dream laughs quietly. “Twitter’s exploding?”

“Oh, it’s L’Manburg!”

He wheezes. “Of course it is.”

A few words later they say their goodbyes and leave the call. Dream leans back in his chair. The Warden’s voice had freaked him out a bit, but it’s fine. It’s fine.

Sap comes in only minutes later, laying down on the bed. “Seems it went well,” he says, looking at Dream.

He’s still shaking the giddiness out. “Mhm!”

“That’s good.” Sap yawns. “I made spaghetti.”

“Oh, thanks, I’ll go get some later.” He looks at the way Sap is sprawled out. “Are you… falling asleep?”

“I can’t get up,” Sap laughs, “Bed’s too comfy.”

“Well that’s a you problem.”

Sap doesn’t respond, so Dream, sighing, stands up and waddles to the bed. He flops down next to Sapnap. “We can eat after a nap,” Dream mumbles, shuffling closer.

“How cute.”

Dream giggles. “You made me dinner, after all.”

“Well at least get under the blankets,” Sap mumbles despite also being on top of the blanket, already sounding like he’s falling asleep. “You’re gonna be cold.”

Dream closes his eyes and lays halfway over Sapnap. “No. I’m good.”

The cell is loud.

It’s the first thing he notices. Instinctually he tenses, already breathing hard. There’s more noise than usual. Steps, maybe? It isn’t dress shoes, and it isn’t thumping paws, it’s something foreign.

He squints his eyes open. There’s… someone, pacing the obsidian. From his position laying on the floor, Dream can only see hooves.

…hooves?

“…techno?” Dream rasps. The steps slow to a stop, however now the hooves are out of his field of view.

The person comes to crouch in front of him. “Good mornin’, sleepin’ beauty.”

Dream relaxes a bit and chuckles. “Good morn’.”

“It’s weird to watch you sleep,” Techno says, sitting down with his legs crossed when he recognises Dream isn’t moving.

Dream smiles as much as he can. “You were watching me sleep?”

Techno seems to stare at him if the silence is any indication. He knows he’s not exactly the prettiest sight, starved and probably covered in more blood than is currently inside him, but he… he deserves some respect, not to be stared at.

(Not when Sir had done the same, crouched above him and watching him cry and whine, just with a smile on his face.)

At least Techno reads his discomfort and the feeling of eyes leaves him, Dream slowly moving to look at him, instead.

By now, looking at Techno’s boar-like face is completely normal to Dream. He’s used to the hybrids of the server, just another fascinating oddity of his world. He watches a million micro-expressions cross Techno’s face, his jaw, tusks, ears, brows, everything moving with each thought. Techno’s easy to read if you know where to look.

Somehow, Dream does.

He watches Techno think, finally deciding on “So I can’t stare but you can? Sounds like inequality to me.”

“Heh,” Dream chokes, “Get used to it.”

Techno sighs, not quite annoyed.

“Is there nothin’ else for you to stare at?”

“Not really, already–” he wheezes as his breath runs out. The second half of his sentence is broken up by rattling coughs. “–looked everywhere.”

Techno looks down at him again. His arms move towards Dream but stop halfway. “You okay?”

“It’s just– It’s fine,” he hacks, nodding weakly. His chest hurts, but honestly, what doesn’t? “Just do it.”

Techno ignores Dream’s full-body flinch to set him into a sitting position. His back hurts, and it feels like his hip has been broken – likely – but he can breathe a little easier. He leans into the wall. “Thanks.”

“You’re in… really bad shape.” Techno winces, but quickly masks the concern in his voice and tries for a joke, “Can’t let you die now. What about my retention?”

Dream grins toothily. He doesn’t draw attention to the blood that must coat them. “Start taking sponsorships.”

“Bruhhhh,” he drawls, “What am I, capitalist?”

“Imagine the revenue!” The louder volume scratches his throat, so he clears it as gently as he can and continues quieter, “You could be rich.”

“Dream, I am not turnin’ to the devil. I have morals.”

“Could always, like… become religious, balance it out.”

“Since when do you care about religion?”

Dream thinks back to exile, having to play by Tommy’s weird religious bounds because of course their dumb, made-up religion got canonised. Thank Prime that didn’t have consequences on his speech patterns, right?

“Just proposing it. Nothing more.”

Techno sighs, shaking his head. “Why not betray my own god? What could possibly go wrong.”

“Imagine having a god,” Dream laments, even if it technically isn’t true. “I’m just… abandoned.”

Techno laughs but nods along.

A few nights later, once again in the cell, Dream groans as he wakes up. He still tenses but relaxes quickly.

Techno, who he seems to be leaning on, hums. “Hullo.”

“Hi,” Dream rasps, “What’s up?”

“The usual, you know. The usual.” Techno gestures around the cell. “…the usual.”

“World domination?” Dream jokes.

Techno huffs. “Yeah. Of course.”

Dream not-so-subtly glances over at the book and quill in his hands. Techno’s handwriting is neat and legible, but he still can’t read any of it.

“Are you readin’ my evil plans?”

“I can’t see ‘em,” Dream mumbles, setting his face into the fuzz of Techno’s cape. “Don’t worry.”

Techno cries, “Not another elderly person! Do you need glasses? A cane to go with it?”

“I’d appreciate a cane,” Dream sighs. His muscles have deteriorated and his leg still hurts like he’ll never walk again, but he doesn’t have the emotional strength to admit it. He’ll get to it, just… not now. He shifts with a strong wince.

Techno looks down to him, muttering, “…how’d it even get to this?”

Dream whines quietly. He doesn’t fucking know. The only things canonised were the sword, axe and the shears, and they don’t account for a fraction of his pain. Where was the lava, the drowning? The shocks? The training, and amputation, and oh, he wants one thing he can do, can think, can–

He only realises he’s whimpering when Techno shakes him gently. “Hey, come on, it’s… it’s okay. Or, uh… are you okay?”

“No,” he grits out. No, he’s fucking not, and Prime does it feel good to admit.

“Man… y’know, you picked a bad person to have with you.”

Techno clumsily sets an arm around Dream. Already before prison he’d been more touchy, and it hadn’t been helped by the isolation, nor by Sir’s weird reward systems. Even Sapnap cuddling him practically every night couldn’t make up for it, but Techno seems to have already noticed and is doing his part, too.

“You’re… you’re doing great, Techno,” Dream breathes. The reminder made his pain spike up again. “I just… I just have to stop thinking.”

“What are you, Tommy? Keep your brain active at least.”

“Sorry.” Dream curls up a little tighter. It hurts but… he isn’t scared of Techno, not really, but the tone was too biting for right now.

He earns a very, very light headbutt against his own head. “Don’t be. You’ve done nothin’ wrong. Except for child murder. And terrorism.”

“Ha ha, very funny. Who helped with the terrorism?”

“Who’s homeless?”

It’s a stupid comeback but it makes Dream wince with laughter. “I– I told you my house was big!”

Techno processes. Then he processes again with some kind of new information. “Are you… Dream, are you serious.”

“What do you mean?”

“Is your–” Techno hangs his head, then turns to look at Dream. “Is your house the prison?”

“Home is where the– the heart is.”

“This place does need some heart. And love. And blocks other than obsidian.”

Dream gestures at the netherite in the floor. All he receives is an unimpressed stare.

Dream looks around the nether. He hears George shout, “The portal is right there!”

“I was trying to show you!” he says, already tracing possible routes. He’s distracted by George’s calls, though, and can’t figure out a way, already noticing a fog settling over his thoughts. “I– Give me water! Give me water!”

He forgot how stressful the average video is, but it’s also fun. He’s having fun. He’s trying to have fun.

“This is so terrible, Dream.” George sounds upset. Is George upset? “You’re so close to dying.”

Dream looks back, and of course George isn’t following him. He purses his lips and goes back to where he’s mining. He should go back. He has to go back. What should he do? Wait, why’s he focusing on… what’s going on? What’s he doing?

He shakes his head and blinks a few times. George doesn’t seem to notice his somewhat weird behaviour.

“Look, just–” just say it, just get it over with, he can be embarrassed later “just tell me that I’m good!”

He takes his hand off the keyboard for a second and drags it through his hair. George is silent for a second and it makes Dream worry but no, he’s probably just thinking, and, “Congrats, it only took you, like, twenty minutes of running around!”

Well that didn’t help. Just made him feel worse.

“Okay,” he tries again, “tell me that I did a good job.” Maybe that’s more acceptable. Less direct.

Still George doesn’t give him the right answer. “You’re almost dead, you’re almost dead!”

He shakes his head again. Does he have to get them out of the nether? He can’t build. Can’t jump. He circles George until he stops mining and does his best to act normal, still. What triggered this? Why are his hands shaking? He just doesn’t know what to do.

They get to the overworld eventually. Dream tries to keep his thoughts at bay. He tries. Maybe he even succeeds, because George hasn’t called him out so far. That means he hasn’t done anything wrong, right? His health’s low. He has to get that back up, and he does, and he’s alright in the game but–

“Okay, what’d you say?” Dream hopes people will just pass this off as usual DNF nonsense, or maybe George won’t even include this. “You said you were gonna say something.”

“You did– You did good, Dream. Okay?”

Dream breathes out shakily. “Yessss!” he says, weak, to keep up his act of normalcy. He’s trying to get the words to register properly, deeply, burrow under his skin; he did good. He did good! It calms him down, even if he still doesn’t know what triggered it. Was it George’s refusal to acknowledge his efforts? Or was it just random, as it sometimes happens?

He lifts his hands again and scratches at his scalp. He can do this. Three simple words ringing in his brain, he tries to continue through the haze still over his thoughts.

“Okay. I’ll bite.” Techno sits up a little and stares at Dream. “What’s up with that leg?”

Dream looks down. There’s a strange bump in his skin, all around an extremely poorly sewn wound. It’s not even cauterised or anything, and he wonders if bacteria exists because if it does, he’s getting by very lucky.

“Uhm…” He should tell the truth, Techno wouldn’t be mad at him for hiding it, right? What will he do? Will he hurt Dream? He doesn’t think he would, but, well, maybe Techno would decide to betray him or leave him, even though that’d be weird, bec–

“I can hear you overthinkin’. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I, uh– There’s… Sir left something inside.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth he’s bracing himself for some insensitive quip. Yeah, a bone, or something. But prompted by Techno’s silence, he looks up, meeting horrified eyes.

“What do you– What do you mean?!” he asks, all high-pitched. “What could– Did he put it inside?”

“Mhm.” Dream’s steadily growing more and more uncomfortable. He doesn’t exactly appreciate the topic, especially with Techno’s rising volume.

“And you haven’t taken it out?!” Techno yells, but at Dream’s violent flinch he consciously relaxes. “Okay. Okay. Dream, we’re taking that out.”

“But–” he doesn’t know how to defend himself. It’ll hurt. What will we patch it with? I’ll pass out. I don’t want you to see me like that. But none of them are particularly good excuses. He just puts on his best poker face and nods reluctantly.

Techno helps him lay down despite his hisses. “Dream, this is… goin’ to hurt.” He looks straight into Dream’s eyes, earnest. “You are allowed to scream. …I might scream back.”

Dream laughs, but he appreciates it. “I might just pass out. Or dissociate. Whichever comes first.” He throws up a peace sign, index broken and middle missing, and tries to relax himself. “…I hope.”

“Very healthy copin’ mechanisms you’ve got.”

He doesn’t mention his possible alcoholism. Their one resident drunk had a heart attack. Not a great comparison. “Beats the lava.”

“That–” Techno pauses. “Heh?!”

“Sam knows about it.” Or at least he thinks he does. He should? Bad would’ve told him… right? It’s complicated. “And, well… death messages.”

“Dream,” and Dream realises oh maybe I shouldn’t have said that, “You were… killin’ yourself as a copin’ mechanism?!”

…okay yeah that’s pretty bad. At least he hasn’t done it, even if he has the burns to show for it. “Please just– just take the thing out.”

“Oh.” Techno goes back to hovering confusedly.

He tears the remains of Dream’s tattered right pant leg. He clears the area and starts feeling along the skin.

Dream bites back pained whimpers. Some switch in his brain must’ve been flicked again because he’s back to don’t scream he’ll hurt you there’s no permission only bad dogs scream it could be worse it could be so much worse. Techno seems to have noticed, though, and just says, “Scream, please. Go wild.”

And Dream takes that and fucking screams. It hurts every time Techno’s hands pass over the wound. It digs in deeper, and it’s cutting into fucking everything and “Oh my fucking God, fucking do something!”

“There’s the Dream I remember. Glad you found him again.” He finally starts working. He pulls at the stitches, which– oh Prime Dream didn’t expect that pain and he screams louder and hits his other foot against Techno but they’re out and–

“Can you take your fingers out of my fucking–”

“I’m takin’ it out! Wait! Just–”

Techno tugs on something.

Dream’s vision goes white for multiple seconds but finally, panting and crying and throat so sore he can barely wheeze, he looks at what Techno’s holding from his bloody hands, jaw slack.

It’s a thin chain necklace.

There’s two rings attached.

It’s only a second until he’s back on the living room floor.

When Sap comes back, Dream’s sitting up, face frozen in horror.

He’d only left for the bathroom. Dream hadn’t been asleep that long so he assumed he’d be asleep for quite a while longer. But he’s awake.

Dream turns at the sound of footsteps. “I need a fucking shot.”

“No you don’t,” Sap says, sitting down next to him. He reaches for a water bottle but Dream refuses it. “What’s wrong?”

“It was his rings.” Dream looks down. “Your engagement rings. I– I didn’t even notice.”

Sap blinks to process, setting a hand on Dream’s shoulder. “What? You’re not making sense, man.”

“The thing in– in–” Dream pats his leg, still under the blanket. “His chain.”

“That’s still in there?” Dream’s still in shock – or whatever he’s doing – so Sapnap keeps his voice calm despite his own mounting dread. “Wait– his rings? What happened?”

Dream turns his head. “Techno took it out.”

“Oh. Uh– that’s… good.”

“He’s so gross.” Dream doesn’t seem to really be listening to him. “I hate him. I–” he sets his head on his knees.

“He put his rings in your leg? Why would he do that?”

“Because he thinks it gives me worth?” Dream doesn’t lift his head, in fact just tightening his arms around his knees. “Because it means he owns me? It means I– he– he gave me a part of himself.”

Sapnap quietly scooches closer until he can hug him properly, muffling his stuttering breaths. He’s completely quiet but Sap knows how to hear his cries. Seems the shock has worn off.

It grows until Dream is loudly sobbing, face covered by the blanket and Sapnap’s arms holding him up.

There’s a thick tension in the cell when Dream wakes up only a few hours later.

Techno seems to have set him upright again, back to leaning on his shoulder. He looks down and finds his leg wrapped in bloody scraps of fabric. It probably doesn’t improve anything, but maybe it’ll hold it together enough to at least somewhat heal. He appreciates the effort.

Looking to his side he finds Techno with possibly the least comfortable expression on his face. He seems to be contemplating murder while also acting like he has to perform a speech in front of a thousand people. He looks unhappy to exist, right now.

Dream breaks the silence first. It’s been a few minutes since he woke up but it hadn’t been noticed yet. His voice is still wrecked. “…I suppose I passed out.”

“Anyone would have,” Techno mutters lowly. “What is wrong with the people on this server?”

Dream sighs. “Many things.”

It’s a slightly more comfortable silence, now. The lava bubbling to their left is the only sound louder than their breathing. Dream lets his thoughts wash over him, a little too drained to really hold on to anything.

He’s startled when Techno moves to stand up. “Huh?”

“Just stretchin’,” he says, and indeed that’s what he does. He walks laps and does typical stretches.

Dream looks down. There’s a puddle of blood under him… although, where in this cell isn’t there a puddle of blood? He sighs sadly.

Techno’s ears flick. He looks at Dream for a second before he walks over. He’s reminded of the first days here when Techno picks him up, but this time it’s not to adjust him. He just picks him up and… carries him around.

“What are you doing?” Dream asks, just curious. This is… kind of fun? At his height he’s a little hard to carry – even Sapnap can barely do it – but Techno’s big and strong enough to do it with relative ease. It’s nice to relive it.

“Movin’ you around.”

“Why? You’ll get blood all over you.”

“Oh, and I’ve never experienced that before. Believe me Dream, I’ve seen more blood than you can imagine.”

Dream slumps closer. Techno’s warm, and safe, and solid. It’s different than Sapnap’s hugs, but it still feels good.

They pace in a few circles until Techno grows tired and goes to set him down again. Before Dream himself even recognises it, though, he’s grabbed onto the front of Techno’s dress shirt with both hands, holding on for his life.

Tech’s eyes soften. Instead of setting him down, he does his best to sit in a way that keeps Dream in his lap. Once down, Dream melts back into place on Techno’s chest.

“You’re too light.”

“I know.” Dream winces. “I’ll eat again once we’re out of here.”

He hears Techno inhale weakly but doesn’t pay it any mind.

Dream doesn’t lift his eyes as Sir circles him, dress shoes harsh against the obsidian.

“Kneel.”

Dream is already kneeling. This is just some…

“Good!”

…reinforcement.

He keeps himself from grimacing, instead maintaining neutrality. He feels gross.

“What’s my name?”

Dream keeps his head down in silence.

“Speak.”

“Your name is… is Sir, Sir.”

Sir stops behind him. “Wrong.”

Dream cringes down at the shock that follows, biting his tongue until he tastes iron to keep back his whine at the burn running through his skin.

Sir starts walking again when Dream has stopped panting. “Try again.”

Dream doesn’t speak. It’s a weirdly long silence, until–

“Did you not hear me?” A hit to his head, one he tenses for to keep himself from moving. “Try. Again.”

“…question?”

Sir sighs. “Speak.”

“You… you didn’t give me permission, Sir.”

He flinches harshly at the groan that follows. “Try again implies speak, idiot. I did give you permission. You’re just too fucking stupid to get it.”

Dream whimpers. “Sorry.”

Sir squats down in front of him, taking in his twitching hands in his lap, his lips slowly leaking blood, and his shaking shoulders. “But it’s okay, because I’m helping you, right?”

Dream nods frantically, hair falling in front of his eyes.

Sir raises a hand and, ignoring Dream squeezing his eyes shut, swipes it out of his face. His fingers don’t touch his skin. “Exactly. So, try again.”

Dream thinks. Not Sir. Not his name, no way Dream’s allowed to say it. “…master?” he tries, hesitant even to his own ears.

“Wrong.” Dream yelps, hissing through his teeth. “But you flatter me. Try again.”

“Trainer?”

“Wrong.”

“B– boss?”

“No.”

“…Qu–”

“Fucking no!”

(Dream receives a bloody nose for that one.)

“I–” he gasps a breath, head fogged in pain, whole body twitching. His thoughts don’t work beyond a constant stream of fear and disappointment in himself. “I don’t know, Sir,” he cries, head set on the obsidian. “What’s… what’s your name, Sir?”

Sir laughs. Dream pushes down the memories bubbling up at the sound.

“Good, that’s good!” He squats back down, dragging his hand through Dream’s hair a few times, a motion he tries not to lean into. He holds back his sobs, both from fear and from the relief at finally doing something right, at being good. “That’s the right answer. My name is Sir to you.”

Dream can’t look up at Sir, head held down by the hand now idle in his matted hair. “…question?”

“Speak?”

“I said that and you told me it was wrong, Sir.”

Sir sighs. “What have I said about backtalk?” The hand doesn’t leave – Dream hasn’t messed up, not yet. “How do you know the answer to the question? Speak.”

“You told me your name was Sir.”

“Yeah! I told you what it was. So, I’m your source of information, right?”

Dream nods.

“If there’s a question, then… who should you turn to? Speak.”

“You, Sir.”

“Exactly!” Sir pets him some more. “If there’s a question, you should ask me what the answer is.”

Dream must have somehow expressed confusion, because Sir sighs and says, “Speak?”

“If you ask me a question, Sir, why should you have to answer it too?”

Sir sighs again, as if Dream asked the stupidest possible question. He curls up hearing it.

“Because I decide things, okay? And once you’re out of here, if someone asks you something… you should turn to me! Come on, easy enough for even you to understand, right?”

Dream nods, pushing his face further into the obsidian. He probably isn’t doing a great job hiding his pain.

“Great! Good boy.”

Through tears, Dream smiles.

Sapnap’s streaming, right now.

Dream shifts under the covers, eyes open but not really seeing the room around him. He’s counted the number of hangers in the ajar closet tens, maybe hundreds of times by now.

He’s been alone here, in silence and in the dark, for some number of hours already. He hasn’t checked the time and he doesn’t really intend to, either, instead laying numbly and hoping he gets up at some point soon.

He just doesn’t have the energy today. He reaches to the bedside table and grabs his phone, finally, swiping until it starts to ring.

“Hey, I’m muted, what’s up?”

Dream hums, the upset in his chest calmed by the sound of Sapnap’s voice. “Hi.”

“Hi. Want me to come to you?”

He hums again, confused and noncommittal.

“Would you…” he shuffles around a little and Dream likes the sound. “Would you feel better if I did?”

He nods, then realises Sap can’t see him. “Mhm.”

“Okay.” Sap’s chair squeaks. “Let me end stream real quick.”

The only reason Dream doesn’t protest is the fatigue in his brain, keeping his thoughts dull. He hears Sapnap saying goodbyes to chat, then him shutting off his setup, then there are footsteps across the house until the door creaks open.

Sap peeks in, eyes landing on the lump of blankets on the bed. “Are you okay?”

Dream shakes his head. His phone is still lit up next to him, although his face is hidden by the blanket he’s pulled up to hide it.

With a soft sound, Sap pads over and sits down next to Dream’s legs, pushing them gently to make room.

“Anything I can do?”

The silence is enough of an answer. Sap crawls over to the other side and lays down, starting to smooth the creases in the fabric, a firm hand on Dream’s arm.

“You know, it’s okay to feel like shit sometimes.”

Dream uncovers his face, turning to the ceiling and looking at Sap with a confused furrow to his brows.

“You went through something horrible. You can, uh… you should let yourself be sad and useless and tired sometimes. That’s– you need the rest.”

Dream turns back to the open closet doors. “…why did i do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, why did I– why did I let him break me?”

“He didn’t break–”

“Sap… he did.” Dream shifts now to face Sap fully, pushing his hand off before he offers his own, instead. “I– I was so scared, it just–”

Sapnap moves closer, too, takes the hand and sighs, hard enough that Dream feels it on the tips of his fingers.

“I shut down. I’m sorry you… had to deal with that.” Sap frowns but doesn’t interrupt. “I shouldn’t have done any of this. It’s just– it’s a mistake. This was all a mistake.”

“Dream…” Sap brushes his thumb back and forth on the back of Dream’s hand. “Why are you apologising for being hurt?”

“Because it– it is my fault!” He leans his head down, Sap taking the opportunity to brush a hand through his hair. “I chose to do this.”

“Okay, well…” Sap lifts Dream’s head again to stare him in his anxious eyes. “Were you scared of us?”

“Huh?”

“Were you scared we’d be upset? Or that we’d say no to you ending it? Or anything like that?”

“…yeah,” Dream laughs breathily, leaning into Sap’s palms. “I guess I was.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just– well, I shut down! I couldn’t–” he hums angrily. “I was so sure I’d be fine, and then it got bad and I was more worried about surviving and then it got better again and I thought everyone would be so disappointed in me, like– I couldn’t– I couldn’t break it off, so I…”

He huffs and stops talking, breathing unsteady from his rant. Sap’s hands still on his overgrown beard, he shakes his head and lowers it again.

“Do you still think that?” Sap asks, gentle.

“…I don’t know. I guess not.”

“Well, none of us wanted that to happen, or– or would’ve been mad if you wanted to stop it, alright?”

The worry in his eyes makes Dream’s throat tighten and gut swirl. He squeezes his eyes shut to hide the way the meager hallway light makes them shine. “Yeah,” he whispers, “I– I do. I do.”

“That’s good.” Dream nods along. “I don’t know how to make you feel better, honestly. Sorry.”

“…I don’t know if you can.” He shakes off Sap’s hold, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t know what I’m doing or what I should do or– it just– it feels so… so everything.”

“Like the world’s ending?”

“Guess so, yeah.”

Sap hums, then falls silent. The AC whirrs quietly.

“You know,” Sap starts, moving his hand to find Dream’s again. Dream moves his closer and smiles when he feels warm skin. “I can’t make you better, but, uh… we can go watch a movie together, or something.”

“Why?”

“I don’t think staying here is helping you, dude,” he says, looking around the dark room. “Trust me, we can go watch something you’ve already seen a million times, and we’ll have fun. Okay?”

“…okay.”

“Yeah?” Sap sits up, moving off the bed to stand in front of Dream. “Then let’s go.”

“Uhm, Techno?” Dream wrings his fingers, staring at Techno from his spot on the floor. The stumps – right middle, left ring – hurt but he doesn’t really care. He thanks the regeneration mechanics, albeit slower, that exist in this world.

Techno, at the other end of the cell, doesn’t look up from the book he’s writing in. “What?”

He thinks about the ways he could approach this existential conversation. “How much do you– Okay, do you know what Chat is talking about when they mention, uh… viewers or streams or…?”

Finally, Techno looks at Dream. “Oh, I mean… that’s just Chat bein’ Chat. I’ve decided to not question it.”

“So you don’t… know.”

“Well, what is there to know?”

Dream sighs. “Okay, listen to me because I’m gonna tell you something really weird. Okay?”

Techno gestures widely at the cell. “Go ahead.”

“Alright. So, there’s a platform… called YouTube.”

“Mhm.”

“You, me… all of us, actually, are on this platform.”

“Okay.”

“And we all stream our… perspectives to a bunch of people. Like, thousands.”

“…okay.”

“And… and Chat are your viewers.”

Techno’s quiet for a moment, ear flicking. When he speaks again it’s low. “They agree.”

“And, uhm, this world is basically a… a plot we all wrote together.”

Techno squints at him. His ear is still flicking.

“And when we’re done, we log off the server and we talk because we’re friends, and then we leave the call and you’re done.”

Telling Sapnap was so much less awkward. He hasn’t told anyone here what the SMP really is, but he feels he has to tell Techno. He just has to.

“…you’re done?”

“I switch between them. I– I fall asleep, and I’m in the other world. And when I’m asleep there, I’m awake here.”

“And why are you tellin’ me this?”

“I live with Sapnap and he knows,” he mumbles, “I just thought it’d be fair to, uh, to tell you, too.”

Techno looks away. Dream’s hands shake at the dark look on his face. “…you just told me I don’t exist.” He chuffs. “Are you concussed? Do you hallucinate?”

“God I wish,” Dream laughs, coughing after it. “This all sucks for me, too.”

“Dream. Please reconsider your words.”

“Prime, Techno, you matter. You’re real. You’re still your own fucking person.”

There’s a lingering frustration in Techno’s tone, but he seems to have picked a different target for the time being, even though Dream knows this will be brought up again. “So… your Sapnap knows?”

“Mhm.”

“Could either of you have told them to… not? Torture you?”

Dream shudders. “Yeah, well, but–”

“Literally nothin’ you could say would justify not sayin’ “Hey, how about we don’t torture me?”. You’re insane! You– You’ve lost it, Dream.”

“It isn’t their fault that I decided to put the world onto my world. It– it helped with Sir’s plot, the audience would’ve realised that something was off if we suddenly stopped, I didn’t want to ruin my friends’ fun–”

Techno gasps with a shriek. “Heh?!”

“I just– I just forgot it would affect me, and it’s too late now.”

“You–” Techno’s chest is heaving. “You let yourself get tortured for– for entertainment?!”

Dream thinks back to the praise he’d received for his acting. Is it worth it?

There, for the first time he’ll remember later, he decides: No. It really isn’t.

“Uhm… sunk cost fallacy.”

“That’s for buyin’ things. Not havin’ your fingers chopped off.”

He rolls himself to face the ceiling. Techno helped him into a clear patch of obsidian so the tears don’t burn him. “You… moved on from the roleplay thing real quick.”

“We’re talkin’ about that later.” Of course. “Stop hurtin’ yourself and tell them to stop.”

“Fine,” he sighs, “I’ll tell Sapnap.”

“Chop chop. Fall asleep faster.”

Dream laughs.

“I want to get out the prison.”

Sap looks up from his breakfast, eyes wide. He sets down his utensils and chews until his mouth is empty. He stares at Dream until he’s shaking his leg in discomfort.

When he speaks, though, Dream can practically taste the relief underlying the words.

“Repeat that.”

He sits a little straighter. “The prison. I want to end it.”

“You– Really? Why now?”

“Techno convinced me to.” He looks away and thinks back to Techno practically singing him a lullaby, until he realised it did actually help – don’t blame him for using his videos to fall asleep years ago – and sang to him until Dream woke up in his bed with a promise the only thought in his brain.

“You told him?”

“Mhm. He, uh… told me to stop it, and then we’d talk. So… here I am.”

“Uh, I’m glad, I just– are you doing this for him, or for you?”

“…me, I think. Or, uh… yeah. It’s for me.”

“Good enough.” Sap shrugs. “What do you want to do?”

Dream sighs. He put down his utensils before he even spoke, but now he puts his hands in his lap and stares down at them. “I don’t want to… just stop the SMP.”

“…why?”

“The audience, and also… it’s not that bad, right now? We have time to, like– get me out, we just need to make sure nobody else does shit. Easy.”

“And how would we tell them?”

“Post a Twitlonger,” he jokes, then sobers and responds in earnest, “No, no, message or call. Just– can… you speak to…”

Sap makes a weird expression. “Of course.”

“So… I don’t know. I don’t think I want to tell everyone, but the ones doing the prison stuff have to know. Right?”

“So we tell Sam, Q–” Dream’s breath stutters “–and Techno, so they’re on our side and we continue with the prison just so nothing looks weird, but we have someone helping us?”

Dream gives it a second. Him and Techno should be streaming in a few days. “We can tell Techno after the stream.”

“Hm?”

“What if we…” Dream grins at Sapnap. “What if we canonise me being Submerged?”

From that conversation stems their convoluted, evil, weird plan.

They make a list of every member. First up are Sam and Q, which isn’t hard considering the fact that Q already knows. Dream will tell Techno, and from there they see what the three do with the information. Depending on what happens, they tell people, or they don’t tell people.

It’s strange. Dream seems happy enough with it, even if he’s concerned about the viewers figuring it out and thus knowing something very vulnerable about him. That’s mostly outweighed by the control he’d have over the reveal – people in Submersion are fine to know because they can’t reveal anything, and people in non-Submersion are likely to not reveal anything serious enough for the audience to reach anywhere.

“Your mind works in mysterious ways,” Sap tells Dream one day while he’s writing points into the list of information for the two Vault-related people, Dream at his side telling him what’s off limits. He seems hesitant to tell Q anything, which Sap understands fully.

“I didn’t spend months planning a war for this to stop me,” he murmurs, staring at the document, “And Techno will find it funny.”

“I’m sure he will.”

Of course, after Dream’s long talk with Techno – one he’d come back from exhausted – he’s in on their plan, too. He’s proving to be useful, despite his and Sap’s inability to communicate, through knowledge of the outside that Dream doesn’t have.

(It’s also great to see Dream actually working on something big, again. It feels like he’s back, even if just for now, even if he never really left.)

“When’s Techno streaming?”

“Uhm… in two hours.”

“You should go talk to him, then,” Sap suggests, turning around to look at the increasingly-fidgety Dream.

For how stubborn he can be, Dream seems glad. “Yeah, okay. Seeya then, Sap.”

Sap just waves him off and goes back to the list.

Dream laughs at Techno through his mic. The banter is keeping him distracted from the cell around them and he’s grateful for the facelessness because he’s employed the strategy of looking away every time he starts to feel shaky.

He really hopes nobody’s able to pick up on his hesitance. He hopes he’s playing it off as good acting well enough. So far nobody’s called it out and stream chat, which he’s got pulled up on one side of his monitor, is normal.

Every time Techno makes a joke about them being friends, Dream finds himself smiling wider. If only he knew.

When the revival book is inevitably brought up, Dream shudders. So much for dodging it. He plays along, though, and denies every attempt to get it, but… well, he can’t help it.

“What if I try and revive you?”

Techno, too, plays along. Dream’s not really typing anything into the book – joys of roleplay – and is instead focusing on pulling up another Minecraft instance.

They banter until Dream begins his ‘ritual’ and finally logs on.

It’s hard to control two characters at once but he’s pretty sure he pulls it off, especially since everyone already knows DreamXD is just Dream on an alt. Suspension of disbelief isn’t hard for the audience.

“I want a bell, give me a bell.”

Dream muffles his chuckling. He places one down via the alt and disconnects.

He wonders how this will canonise. Techno’s a little hard to predict, because he’s almost never acting, he’s just talking about the same topics. He hopes to Prime his Techno won’t forget about the Submersion stuff.

He yells about the bell, and they argue, and he avoids the torture and his imprisonment every time they’re brought up. Before he knows it the stream’s over and Dream’s asking Techno to stay because he has something he wants to discuss with him.

Sap spins a pen between his fingers. He can hear Dream yelling, which is a good sign he’s still on stream, so he’s got time to do this.

He’d already asked both to talk yesterday. Q seemed to have known something was up because he’d asked if it was about Dream. Sap didn’t lie to him, and because it was in a group chat, Sam had sent multiple concerned messages about it. They’d brushed him off as gently as possible, but it was finally time to answer all the questions.

“Is he okay?!” is the first thing Quackity rushes out when he joins. Sam isn’t far behind.

“He’s fine, don’t worry. Techno’s got him, right?”

“Oh, good,” Q sighs. “How are they?”

Sap smiles fondly. “They’re good. Dream’s pretty happy.”

Interrupting them, Sam clears his throat. “Uh… what are we talking about?”

“Okay, yeah, sorry dude but Q already knows, so…” Sap sets the pen down. “By the way Q, make very sure to not tell anyone else that you knew before, okay?”

“Got it.”

Sap looks at the list. The first point: dream on smp when asleep. It’s so much harder to explain now that he’s actually trying and he isn’t powered by mutual pain.

“Okay, so: Remember years ago when some people got put onto Minecraft servers? Dream’s one of those. So he decided to give us his server as the SMP IP, because he was lonely and he wanted to spend more time with us.”

“Is he still… doing that?” Sam asks quietly. Q doesn’t say anything.

“That’s the thing. On that version of the SMP, there’s versions of all of our characters, but there’s no other Dream. So everything his character would experience… he does, instead.”

“So…” It seems to be sinking in for Sam. “He’s… in the prison?”

“And he was–” Q’s voice has an edge to it, not out of anger but more out of horror. “He– Ugh. Sap told me because we had to hurry up the plans with Techno. He wasn’t doing great.”

“Oooooh,” Sam stretches out with a muffle, probably covering his face with his hands. “That explains… a lot. Nobody else knows?”

“He’s telling Techno after the stream. For obvious reasons, he doesn’t like you two very much.”

“He was– He was fucking terrified when we recorded,” Quackity mumbles, “I didn’t do multiple takes because I felt sick.”

Sap hums in agreement. “He was kind of embarrassed he called you Sir,” he remembers, “He wasn’t happy you found out. He was also in denial but… we’re working on that.”

“…Wait, why?”

“Why what?”

“The… the title. I assumed he just panicked and spat something out.”

“No, it’s, uh… it’s what the character made Dream call him. It’s…” Sap gets quiet, mumbling the next words, “…it’s trained.”

Quackity doesn’t respond, so Sap checks Discord and finds him muted. Sam is likely processing, so it’s quiet until Q unmutes and stutters with a waver and a rough voice, “Fuck, sorry, that– oh my god, oh my god! I didn’t even–”

Sap sighs. “Sam, he’s not very, uh… scared of you– well, he is, but he just gets angry, not… depressed, or anything. You’re still on his kill list, though.”

“I believe that.” Sam sounds surprisingly composed. “He’s… he’s right to do that. I’m happy he’s avoiding me. I can’t imagine that, tell him I’m sorry. I– I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry. I will.”

Quackity groans. “Take care of him, okay? I need to… I’m going to go lay down.”

He’s gone before either of them can say goodbye.

Sam’s still in the call. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Uh…” He looks to the list. “For something to become canon to him, it needs to be in some kind of lore thing – video, stream, whatever – and anything implied may become real. That’s canonising, and we’re trying to prevent that, alright?”

Sam hums. “So if I do stuff not on video, it doesn’t count?”

“No. But if you get materials, the characters might use them, even if later they just reappear…?” Sap trails off. “I don’t really get it, honestly. Something about players taking priority.”

“Huh. Strange. So, just keep people from saying stuff that’d make it worse?”

“Yeah. Don’t make anyone suspicious, don’t tell anyone. Uh, we’re gonna imply cee-Dream knows he’s in a roleplay, and he’s told Techno, so keep track of what he says. Just try to act normal about it, I guess.”

“I can… I’ll do that. Are they still streaming?”

The house is quiet but Dream’s voice is faintly audible. “Dream’s in a call but I don’t know.”

“Okay. I’ll… organise something, okay?”

“Sure. Take care of yourself, too. I know this sucks.”

“I– I will. Don’t worry about me.” Sam sighs. “Talk to you soon, man.”

Sam, just like Q, leaves before Sapnap can say anything.

“So, I told them,” Sap starts once he’s finished his food, “And they… they handled it. Sam said he’d get back to us once they’d discussed it.”

“That’s good.” Dream is fidgeting with his fork. He seems to avoid one of his fingers. “Techno said he’s on board. I didn’t tell him much, though. You might have to talk to him, too.”

“Sure. Did you tell him about… uh, okay, we need a better system now. How do we tell the difference?”

Dream stops, looking up to the ceiling in thought. “I’ve just been calling them subbed and us non-subbed.” He looks down with warm eyes. “Like, Sub-mersion, and it’s easy enough to say, I guess.”

“Stops us from saying real, too,” Sap mocks, doing quotes with his fingers. He clears his throat and continues, this time serious, “Anyways, did you tell him about the, uh, subbed him knowing?”

“I… did. He, uh, he thought it was funny, but that he’d do his best to play his role.”

“Will him knowing canonise?”

“Well, he… he already knows, so I guess… it’ll canonise whenever he decides to?”

Dream hesitates. His lips twitch a little before, staring at his food, he mumbles, “…are they… okay?”

“Huh?”

“Sir and Warden.”

“…yeah, they– they’re alright. They’re shaken but we’ll manage.”

“Okay. Thanks for– for talking to them,” Dream rushes, “I… really appreciate it.”

“I wasn’t gonna make you talk to them. I’m just helping out a friend.”

Dream grins at him. “Still, thanks.”

“Of course.” Sap reaches across to swipe Dream’s empty bowl and ruffles his hair in the process. Dream scoffs at him.

Dream watches Techno pace, five steps forward, five steps back, five steps forward, five steps back, repeat until Dream turns away because it’s making him dizzy. He leans on the wall, hands brushing along the frame of the bell. Sometimes he swings it lightly, not enough for it to ring.

When Dream woke up, his greeting had been an interrogation. Did you tell them? How did it go? What did Sapnap say? How’s your leg? You want this potato? This bell is cool, did we stream?

He’d spent a while trying to push Techno off as his questions grew increasingly concerned. God visited, who was that? You jumped into the lava, why’d you do that? Are you okay?

Eventually, though, Techno shut up, he explained the plan, told him that the other Techno now knew and what their insane ideas were. He told him that while streaming – which they had been doing, much to Techno’s fascination – Dream isn’t really there and doesn’t feel the pain so it’s fine. He told him he’s fine.

Techno’s curiosity and fascination was similar to Sapnap’s, just in reverse, and it was… it was so nice, having someone who thought the other side was weird. It felt validating. Helped him feel less insane about it all.

“So… you don’t have inventories?”

They’d been stuck at this point for a while. Techno was throwing a potato around in his hand, vanishing it into his inventory before making it appear again.

(A habit Dream wants to never pick up, already scared for every single item in their house.)

“No, we have to hold them somehow.”

“What, so you have bags? That’s cringe.”

“It really is! You can’t even hide things!” Dream says a little louder. He’d quickly learned not to shout. “It sucks. I love the inventory system.”

“Wait…” Techno rounds on him. “How… do you know about the inventory?”

“It’s from the game? What do you mean?”

“But… usin’ it. You’ve known since I met you, and the SMP isn’t very old. Was like… half of that spent studyin’?”

Dream laughs. “Oh, no, I’ve been here for, like– six years. I was alone for a while.”

“You learnt alone?!”

“Well, I knew it had to be possible, since, well, the game, I just didn’t know how to use it. I had time to figure it out, though.”

“Did you die on your first night?”

“…yeah.”

Techno laughs loudly despite Dream’s protests.

“…Dream?”

Sap searches the bedroom with his eyes. It’s dark, all lights out and curtains drawn, only the sliver of light coming through the open door helping him see.

“Dream, where are you?” he tries again. He’s been searching for a while already because he hadn’t responded to his messages, or spoken to Sap in a while. He hasn’t been in any of the beds so far, so he isn’t asleep.

He wasn’t responding to Sapnap, though.

He opens the door wider. The room is a mess, as it always is. There’s a few pieces of clothing pushed to the edges of the floor, both Dream and Sapnap’s. The bed is unmade. Dream’s setup is turned off but he finds an empty bottle on the desk.

Sap steps over and picks it up, inspecting the label. “Oh, buddy.” He turns to the darkness, muttering quietly, “Are you scared?”

There’s a shuffle.

It’s barely audible over the ambient noise of their living space, it’s completely invisible, but it came from somewhere in the room.

“I’m not mad,” he says, keeping himself calm and quiet, “I promise.”

Nothing happens and Sap has already opened his mouth when the closet door opens.

He only noticed it because he was staring so intently, nothing else changing in the room.

Sapnap walks over, socked feet muffled against the carpet, but it still feels far too loud. He doesn’t know what’s going on.

He crouches down in front of the door, opening it wider slowly.

Dream isn’t looking back at him.

He’s curled up with his hands in his hair, not meeting Sapnap’s eyes even as he turns in his direction.

“Dream,” Sap whispers, pained, raising his hands to Dream’s jaw and holding him steady despite his minute flinch. “What’s wrong?”

Dream doesn’t answer, only giving a dry heave of a sob. From the warmth of his face and the dry layer on his skin, Sap assumes he must’ve been in here, crying, all alone in the dark for a while… enough to run out.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles, slowly taking his hands away to instead pull at Dream’s own. His fingers are tangled into his hair, pulling on it tense enough that Sap struggles to get them loose, but the moment they detach Dream’s hands go limp, as if he’s not in control and instead letting Sapnap have it all.

It’s… It’s scary. He can’t remember seeing Dream like this, not really. Sap’s seen him dissociate and panic and rage and drink until he’s passed out, anything to let go of the pain, but it’s never been so…

so…

Dream sobs again. It sounds to be scratching at his throat.

Sap brushes his thumbs over the tops of Dream’s hands, trying to ground him. He’s already breathing calmly enough, even through his obvious distress.

“You’re home. It’s just me, it’s Sapnap, you’re in our closet, it’s– it’s sometime in the afternoon, the curtains are just closed.”

He speaks slowly, softly. Dream stares at their hands, still shaking.

Is the contact too much? He stops his motions but Dream looks more alarmed when he does, so he starts again. He can apologise later if he messed up.

Sap looks around. “Do you want to come out? There’s more space out here.”

Dream shakes his head feverishly and curls up tighter, hands still clasped in Sap’s. He winces internally at the way Dream’s shoved himself into a corner. He’s a big guy, it must be painful.

“Then we’ll stay right here. Okay? It’s alright. We’re okay.”

Sapnap babbles whatever comforts he can think of. He talks about the dinner he’s planning to make, he talks about a cute dog he saw on Instagram, and the whole time he sits in front of Dream, still shaking but no longer heaving, holding his hands.

“…I’m– sorry,” Dream slurs eventually, “I’m sorry.”

“Baby, there’s nothing wrong. You’re alright.” His southern drawl makes Dream breathe out in relief. “You back with me?”

Dream stares at their hands. “I can’t… I can’t think.”

“Are you fuzzy?”

Dream shakes his head. “’s like…” He furrows his brows, presumably thinking through a fog. “Can you… no… no choices for me?”

Sap tilts his head, watching Dream shift to loosen a little, still curled up. He isn’t acting like he’s hiding, anymore.

(Was he hiding? What was he hiding from? Sap thinks and figures this was the smallest space in the apartment.

He also remembers Dream talking about the corner behind the chest in his cell.)

“What do you… do you want me to… give you commands…?” He asks slowly, deciphering Dream’s quiet mumbling. “Are you sure?”

Dream nods, as slow as Sapnap had spoken. “I– I can’t. ‘m sorry.”

“I can… try. You don’t need to apologise. You– you’re doing great, you’re doing good.”

The way Dream’s eyes brighten at the praise makes him sad. It’s something he craves, especially after being less than the dirt under someone’s shoe for so long, and especially when he’s like… this.

“Who am I, Dream?” he asks, “And where are we?”

“Sapnap,” Dream mumbles into his knees. Sap needs to get him some water. “Home. Our house.”

“That’s right. Good job.” Sap lets go of Dream’s hands, letting him pull them back to his chest to fidget. He takes a few steps back, still crouched. “I’m gonna get you some water, and then I’ll come back. You… stay there, okay?”

Dream nods, still refusing to meet his eyes. “Mhm.”

Finally Sap leaves, coming back only a minute later with a cup of cold water in his hands.

He sits down properly this time, but when he looks up at Dream he’s blinking in confusion, breaths picking up again.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

“You–” Dream rasps, frantic, “Why are you smaller?”

“Oh, should I not be?”

Dream shakes his head, wrapping his arms around his legs and staring at Sapnap. Looking around the room, Sap finds a plastic crate he drags over to sit on instead.

Dream relaxes. “Thank you. Thank you.”

“…no problem. Thank you for telling me, that’s good.” He picks up the cup he’d discarded on the floor. “Do you want this?”

Dream’s expression flickers between a multitude of confused, anxious looks. Sap takes a guess, instead asking, “Does your throat hurt?”

Dream nods, staring at the water.

“…are you waiting for permission?”

Dream’s face falls a little. “…yes,” he says, then drops his eyes to the floor. “’m sorry.”

Sap stretches the cup further into Dream’s reach. “You can have it. I– I give you permission. I’ll always give you permission.”

Dream takes the cup, hands stable enough that Sap lets go of it.

As Dream takes slow sips, Sap stares at the carpet between them. He doesn’t know how to break Dream out of whatever this is. What is he supposed to do? Dream seems completely aware, he’s coherent, except he’s clinging to some set of rules.

Water finished, Dream holds the cup and stares to the left of Sapnap. He’s far more relaxed than he had been, before.

Sap holds a hand out and Dream gives him the cup immediately, almost as if on reflex.

They sit in silence, Dream shuffling around a little on the pile of abandoned clothes he’s sitting on top of. It’s no brighter now than it had been when he’d walked in, but his eyes have done their best to adjust. He sees how Dream breathes, barely moving. If he didn’t hear it, he’d think Dream wasn’t doing it at all.

There’s a minute movement of Dream’s jaw, one Sap responds to, “You– you have permission to talk.”

Dream nods. He bites his cheek before he stops himself. “Thank you. Um, for… for doing what you are.”

“Of course,” Sap rushes out, “If it makes you feel safer I can try. Okay?” He pats Dream’s knee. It earns his the first, albeit hesitant, look into his eyes, even if it’s gone just as quick. “Did you have a… a flashback, or…?”

“I… I don’t remember. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You know what?” Sap gets up from the box, offering a hand. “Let’s go watch some Technoblade.”

Dream smiles shakily and takes his hand.

Techno holds a cooked, slightly burnt potato in his palms. “For you.”

Dream tries to take it, but it’s too hot and he flinches back. “Uhm. I– I can’t eat this, Techno.”

“Heh?” Techno looks at the potato. Steam is swirling into Dream’s face. “Why not?”

“It’s– hot!”

“No, it isn’t.”

“I’m not a piglin!”

“…oh.” He looks back down at the potato and squints at it, brow furrowed. His snout twitches. “Uh…”

He blows on it harshly, making Dream wheeze in laughter.

“There,” Techno says, stretching the potato out again.

Dream takes it – it’s still hot but tolerable, now – and stares at it. Techno pulls his hands away and starts to ramble, “I know you don’t eat here and that you still have normal food but maybe you’d like some cooked food, so I tried and it isn’t great but it’s actually edible and–”

Dream ignores him and takes a bite. It tastes a bit starchy still, because the potatoes they’re given are dogshit, but it–

He has to stop chewing to wipe away his tears. “Th– Thank you,” he mumbles out through the hot food in his mouth.

Techno shuts up and stares at him, then leans in closer with wide eyes. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“N– No, no,” he laughs, tears streaming down his cheeks. The potato is unseasoned and charred and it’s good. It’s so good. “You– Just– Thank you,” he whimpers out, “It means a– a lot, thank you, thank–”

“Wait, no–” Techno takes his shoulders – Dream vanishes the potato into his inventory to protect it – and draws him close, embracing him into a tight hug. “…if I’d known I’d get that reaction I would’ve done this long ago.”

Dream laughs into Techno’s shoulder.

“Next time I’ll get us some salt, too,” Techno whispers, “And somethin’ other than potatoes. Maybe a bed. A bath.”

“…can I have a dog?”

“Yeah, you can have a dog.”

“That’s nice,” Dream mutters, tired from crying. He moves closer to Techno’s chest but keeps his face exposed to talk. “I… I have a cat.”

“Thought you would,” Techno says cryptically. “What’s their name?”

“Patches. She’s a brown tabby.”

“I don’t know cat patterns, Dream.”

“That’s not my fault,” Dream says, the smile dropping off his face when he speaks next. “She… she isn’t home, right now.”

Techno furrows his brow. “Why?”

“Um… Tommy, you know– killed a cat… in here. I was not…” He sighs. “I didn’t handle it very well.”

He looks away from Techno and sighs, rubbing at the stump of his middle finger.

“Sap took her to my mom’s.” He breathes in and settles his shaking voice. He’s cried enough. “I’m not great right now, so we’re waiting, but– but I miss her a lot.”

Techno huffs. “I’m sure you’ll see her again soon.” He pats Dream’s shoulder. “I believe in you, alright?”

“Yeah. I– I do, too.”

On a random, regular day, George calls him.

They’d been on call for so long already today, only hanging up an hour ago. Despite his confusion Dream picks up, because he could never say no to George. “Uh, hi?”

“Dream– The–”

“Hey, it’s okay, breathe,” Dream laughs, because George sounds like he’s a second away from bouncing off the walls.

After a few deep, somewhat jokingly guided breaths, George tries again. “Letter. It’s– the letter.”

“Oh,” Dream says, then yells, “Open it, open it!”

He sets the phone on speaker as he hops in place, ignoring his phantom pains in favour of the excitement thrumming through his body.

“Wait, wait, let me–” There’s the sound of paper ripping as George tears the envelope. All Dream can hear is quiet rustling before there’s a loud gasp and George screams.

“Quiet down,” Dream says, both for George’s neighbours and so his hands don’t start to shake. “What is it? What does it say?”

George gasps for a few seconds before he picks up his phone and whispers straight into the mic.

“Approved. Approved. Approved!”