Chapter Text
The lava was falling down again. Dream didn't want to watch as Quackity made his way into the prison cell. He let his eyes drift closed, he hadn't slept well that night. It was hard to get comfortable when you had bruises everywhere.
He heard the clanking that signified that Quackity had reached his cell, and forced his eyes back open. He was so tired. Any sleep that he had gotten was filled with fitful dreams, ones that left him wishing that he hadn't slept at all. Neither the waking world nor the one of dreams liked him very much, it seemed.
"Morning Dream!" His sentence dripped of fake cheeriness, a sinister glee hiding itself not so well behind the chipped tooth from his fight with Technoblade, the shadows cast by the lava making his grin seem even more threatening. "I hope you slept well!"
Dream knew that Quackity could see the bags under his eyes, knew that Quackity was just saying this to get a rise out of him. Dream was too tired to care at this point, sleep didn't come easy and mornings came hard, the dread of visits and the aches that came with moving made it harder to fall asleep and just as hard to wake up and face the day.
"Have any of our past talks changed your mind, Dream?" When the prisoner didn't respond, he continued. "You know what, maybe I'll give you an update on what's happening outside of this prison. Because, shockingly enough, the world doesn't revolve around you."
Dream scowled at his visitor's shoes, a fancy pair of leather business shoes. Quackity really had changed. What had happened to his Yeezys, the running joke about the shoes that he had always wore. How had he become so professional? Professional wasn't the right word, but this wasn't the same Quackity that he had known. He knew that Quackity had changed a lot, but he wasn't sure why his shoes were making him feel weird about it.
"Obviously, I am monopolizing the economy. Las Nevadas is making so much gold, you can't even imagine how rich I'm going to be." Quackity laughed, the sound reminiscent of a stereotypical "villain" laugh. "Tommy's back, but of course you already knew that. He and Ranboo have been watching the prison. They don't want you to get out. It's taken a bit of work, to get past them with out raising suspicion, but hey, here we are. And everyone hates you even more than they did before, since you killed their Tommy, their precious Tommy. Even if they could have forgiven you for everything else you've done, they'll never be able to forget about this. You have forever gone down as the villain in the history books. But hey, what can you do? You're stuck in this little prison cell, it makes sense that you would get bored."
Keep your face still. Don't let him see how you're feeling. Just get him out of here.
Dream knew that they hated him. He wanted to act like he didn't care (and he did act that way), but it still hurt a little bit that the ones he actually cared about, the ones he actually considered his friends despised him. He was right, in saying that not having attachment here made him the most powerful. If he kept that attachment shoved down, then he would be unstoppable. But here he was, lonely and tired, locked in the prison that he had asked to be built, missing the times when he had friends.
"Aw, hey, do you miss seeing people that aren't me and Sam? C'mon, man. That sorta feels like an insult, Dream. I like to think that people love my presence." Quackity frowned at Dream. "I'm hurt man. Really. I thought we were good friends Dream."
Dream continued to scowl at the floor in silence. He was biting back a reply of, "Of course I love your presence Quackity. It's so lovely for you to come and visit me every day. And the best part is the bruises that never seem to heal. You're just such a great person Quackity."
"Oh come on Dream. I know you have something fucking hilarious to say. Nothing as funny as what comes out of my mouth, but I’m sure that you’ll get a chuckle out of me.”
Dream could hear the menace that was dripping from Quackity’s voice. Dream just wanted him gone.
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; you shouldn’t feel the need to be silent around me. I’m a business partner, a friend. I’m always open to talk.”
Somehow, for some reason, Dream didn’t feel like he would be listened to if he decided to have an honest chat. He thought that he might receive a punch to the mouth, but hey, that was just a theory.
"No, you don't trust mean? I'm feeling so betrayed right now. Me, Quackity, your loyal visitor, and you don't even want to hang out and chat with me? That just fucking hurts man." Quackity placed his hand over his heart and acted like he was in pain. "How could you do this to me?"
Dream scoffed, still looking at the ground. It was all just a show. Quackity was a business man and this is how he was going about his business. He was a cheap actor, but it seemed he had picked up a few tricks on how to get the reaction he wanted.
A sneer took over his visitor's face. "This is really your last chance on this deal today Dream. Oh captain make up your mind, before the salt burns your eyes and you run out of time."
Dream gave up. He was tired of this. He knew it wouldn't leave him happy at the end of the day but he was tired and he was stressed and Quackity was being a dick. He could wait out Quackity's baiting some other day. Quackity was getting away with too much.
"God Quackity, what is it with you and the captain metaphors? And there's no salt in here! We don't just carry salt around! I'm not a pirate, and I'm definitely not in the military so would you just fucking stop!"
Dream was looking down at Quackity now, but something about Quackity's smile made him feel like he was the shorter one.
"Oh Dream. We all carry salt around with us. It's in your tears, it's in your sweat, it's in your blood. And that's what's going to be in your eyes. That is, if you don't make the decision to be a great friend, and teach me how the revive book works."
"Why do you even want the revive book Quackity? It's not like you and Wilbur were ever close. And I know you hated Schlatt as much as the rest of them. So why now, what do you gain from this? Do you want the power that comes along with it? Or is it something else, something different that has happened and that I don't know about. Well either way, this kind of power will destroy you. Hell, I barely survived it." Dream laughed, despite nothing he had said being funny. "Quackity I don't think you really want to know."
"Oh, but I do. And you're going to tell me. Maybe even today, if this goes well."
Dream preemptively winced, knowing what was going to happen.
--
Dream wiped the blood out from under his nose. It felt broken. He tried the clean the sweat off of his forehead with his shirt, keeping it from dripping more into his eyes. Quackity was right, when he said that there would be salt in his eyes. They had watered too, when Quackity punched him in the nose.
Dream couldn't believe that he had finally given in and told Quackity the secrets of the book. He hadn't meant to, but he hurt and he was tired. Maybe tomorrow, he'd get a day of rest.
He watched as Quackity exited the cell, sighed as he heard him call "Have a nice day Dream! It was a pleasure making a business deal with you."
Dream really, really doesn't think that this was a good deal for him. But there's not much he can do about that now.