Chapter Text
Wilbur has worked hard to be a good man. He’s shed tears as well as blood trying to live up to the standards his parents set for him. Wilbur worked even harder trying to take their attention off of Techno.
They hated how Techno would act. Mother always said he was too rough for a “girl” and Father always hated how Wilbur shared his clothes with Techno. It made his twin’s skin flush with something akin to shame and their eyes would get red and puffy and Wilbur never knew how to help.
So he picked up the workload for them. Wilbur would be loud and grabby, anything to take attention from Techno’s more feminine features. He’d take up piano, ukelele, and guitar so that his parents wouldn’t push ballet onto Techno. He learnt how to use his words as a weapon in the ways Techno always fumbled with, to scare away the strangers who thought cruel things.
He used his charisma as a knife and his wit as a shield. He kept everyone a pool’s length away by convincing them that it’s what they wanted. Wilbur used his tone to persuade and his eyes to scare. Because he wasn’t as strong or smart as Techno, but he did have his voice. And he worked hard to make sure his voice was clear.
And Wilbur wasn’t always a good person. He was like his parents for a while too. Hateful and ignorant. Blatantly against anything that wasn’t him.
But Techno deserved better. His twin brother wasn’t weak, but without Wilbur’s support, he would’ve broken. So he woke up and chose to become a better person. There wasn’t another option for this. Wilbur couldn’t let his brother deal with the ignorant people alone. Not him. It was always TechnoandWIlbur. The twins. Inseparable.
They ran away one day. It was too much and at the time it had been the only solution. Not the right one, the last chance they had. They had come too far to be found by someone like an Investigator.
So maybe he took on a lot. He wasn’t strong in the ways Techno was, but he was strong in the others. Wilbur was strong enough to take the insults and come up with better ones. He could take on the long hours of uncomfortable stares if it meant Techno didn’t have to. Hours and hours of working for them and it was all worth it. He was strong enough to take it. He didn’t have any other choice.
Techno always knew that too. They wanted to work too, but Wilbur refused. If one of them had to, Wilbur would. Because Techno wasn’t fragile in the ways Mother commented, he was fragile in the way he trusted. In his heart being too soft for his size. They’d take every betrayal like it was deep and they’d burn themselves trying to burn their bridges. They’d kill themselves before they saved the world.
He took Techno to the library frequently. Bought them The Art of War and pink hair dye, told them to pick a name that they knew was for them and not their parents. An old computer was sold for cheap, and Wilbur got Techno into an online school.
Wilbur was strong enough to let his brother be better than him. He wanted Techno to be smarter and stronger. Some things stung, like when Techno corrected his geography, but it also made his heart swell with pride.
“You’re awfully young for a kid,” One of his managers said once, their long red hair was thrown over their shoulder. They were the one that was 6 years older than him and smelt of smoke and too much perfume.
“I don’t have a kid.”
Sally gave him a long look, something starving in her eye. She rolled her eyes when he shied away. “So this no-name you always brag about isn’t your kid?”
“Oh,” Wilbur’s cheek heat up as he turns to clean a different table, trying to stave off his embarrassment. “That’s my twin brother.”
“Wow,” She stares, something more behind this one. It’s curious but also burning. Wilbur suddenly doesn’t want to be there. He wanted to have swapped shifts with Isacc when they had offered. Even the extra money makes this hard to bear. “You’d probably make a good father one day.”
“One day,” Wilbur awkwardly agrees, ducking his head. “But like you said, I’m still young.”
Sally pursed her lips, tilting her head and nodding along. Wilbur made sure never to talk to her alone again. That didn’t stop her from slipping another coworker’s pants off, but it wasn’t Wilbur and that’s all he could be thankful for. He was strong though.
He heard the other kid had gotten paid a few thousand in hush money. Wilbur wondered whether Techno would have been strong enough to deny that if Sally had asked him. Would he have even realized? Wilbur resolved never to find out.
And half a year later he found Phil and Wilbur never had to force himself to be strong again.
George had lived his life in Limbo, the unofficial name for the U.I.S.D buildings that littered the world. He never understood why people hated it so much. Not when he was a little kid whose goggles fell off his face every five seconds and he was missing teeth constantly.
But when he got older, the prisoners (because that’s what they were) began whispering to him their tales. “Captured.” “Tried to fight.” “Inevitable.” “Rather be dead.” Because he was old enough to listen.
They all had something to say about their lives now. Hateful, hopeful, resigned. George had heard it all, knew it all. There was no one like him though. The first child born in Limbo. A child born in hell, raised by its demons. It was laughable the reactions he got when he told people. Disbelief. Pity. Resolve, sometimes.
To him, their reactions changed nothing. They were all just hopeless fools wanting to flee the only place that was safe.
Or, he thought that until he met his first soulmate. Sapnap. He was a spitfire. So angry at the word. He cried flecks of lava and his body burned with a passion that drew George to him. They had brushed shoulders, passing by each other. And their worlds were never the same, for better or worse.
George had been minding his own business, trying to get to his special seat. Sapnap had been angry, shoving past him roughly. But then he gasped, clawing at his shoulder and spinning around and leaping towards him.
It was almost like getting attacked by a while animal. Except that animal threw its arms around you, desperately holding you close like you were his everything. George had frozen, falling back against the floor with a rough thud.
Maybe it was an odd reaction but George held him close too because no one had held him like this before. His soulmate’s arms around him felt safe. It wasn’t like the “safe” the Investigators tried to sell him, but it felt… like home. Like holding the sun in his arms and having the ocean in his stomach. It was new and wonderful and scary.
“Hello,” He softly said, his voice cracking at the edges. “I’m George.”
He glanced around, spotting the ones that had seen their quiet exchange. George had to keep them quiet. Soulmates in Limbo were uncommon because Investigators weren’t allowed to take people who had found their other half (or in this case, halves). They had to both be taken and find each other in the dozens of building that were scattered across the world.
A soft voice, just as gentle as George had been but somehow squeakier. “I’m Sapnap.” It broke George out of his thoughts, back to the floor and the hug and his emotions.
“We should get off the floor,” George said awkwardly, trying to fill in for his inexperience (and general uncomfortableness) with people. Sapnap nodded, shifting over George until he got enough foothold to stand up. The Watchers didn’t notice them, thankfully. And a safe haven, however temporary, was built between in them at that moment.
Finally meeting his soulmate was the ignition to his anger. Sapnap was fire and lava and he burned like he knew nothing else. George was a fool to fight it. He was a fool to believe in this stupid “Universal Investigation” when he had never known anything but Limbo and its eerily white walls. Sapnap was full of stories of the outside.
Ocean waves, not like the gentle ones that nostalgic fools muttered to him drunkenly, but strong and unforgiving. Sapnap said that it was the worst at the edges, when the waves would knock over people in one strike and when people started sinking into the sand as it was washed away under them. The firecracker had bemoaned about the taste of sea salt in your mouth and how disgusting it felt to get sand stuck to you.
Bemused, George ran a hand through Sapnap’s hair. It was soft, slightly singed at the edges but in a surprisingly aesthetically pleasing way. His soulmate sighed, relaxing into his hands like he was born to. “Go on,” he encouraged softly, brushing a thumb over their cheek. “Tell me more about your outside.”
And so Sapnap did. With tales of monsters that went bump in the night and of villains with fully white eyes that could control anything with a thought. And soft talk of a family that was hunted for sport, his sister’s caramel eyes shining with tears as she pushed Sapnap into a lava pool that humans couldn’t reach. George caressed the tear scars that lined their face, listening with a kind ear.
There were jokes and there were tears. And where the tragedies stole his breath, George started telling his own stories. About the Watchers who gave him toys and books. Sharing the adventures from people long gone, their spirit drained by the Investigators and their soul marks scarred over. He told him of where Limbo took and where Limbo overlooked. Which parts of yourself were no longer yours and which you could keep intact for a bit longer.
He handed Sapnap his goggles, an object that only his Dad got to hold before George got it. Sapnap cradled it in his hands, looking at George with a soft, helpless adoration that made him giggle. His firecracker giggled too, wearing the goggles that drooped low on his nose and posing.
When Sapnap had been taken from him, George had finally found a reason to be angry, There was finally a reason to feel something. Their worlds had been changed for better or worse.
Dream liked to read. It was a little-known fact since he was only ever seen climbing trees with his sister or chasing the other neighbourhood kids around. There was something about opening a book and being ravelled into a world and its characters that attracted him.
When he turned eight, he got his hands on a Percy Jackson book and fell in love with fantasy. An adventure that was beyond anything he had imagined before. It was like a drug.
When the Reapers found him, he had been reading. The fourth Percy Jackson book had fallen to the floor as he struggled against them. Dream’s page was lost and the story unfinished. An Investigator, or Reapers as people inside Limbo referred to them, had gotten fed up with his fighting.
He had managed to get his arms free, but they punched him in the jaw and he fell to the floor. His ruined book had laid mattered on the floor as Dream was dragged away.
Dream hated leaving book’s unfinished. There was just something so irritating about falling in love with a world and never getting to know what happened to it. But as he was called to The Dome, his half-finished book, “The Dogs of Winter”, was forced to be put down.
Funny , he mused as he walked. I managed to read onto a cliffhanger. He wonders whether he’ll ever get to find out what happened to that glass house. But he quickly schools his expressions down, biting his tongue with nothing else to do.
“Ah, Dream.” His handler smiles down at him, almost leering. She catches herself, straightening up as he stands two feet from her desk. Cutting straight to the point, she waved her hand leisurely. “I’m sure you’re curious about why you’re here. Short answer, the Investigators want your help.”
His lips twisted down. Nothing good came out of helping Reapers. “And, pray tell, why would I help them?”
She smirked smugly, they waved their hand around like she was dumbing it down to a child. It was usual for her. Being a handler gave anybody an ego, especially to someone like Dream. “Because I can get you your soulmates back.”
Dream froze, trying not to break instantly. “What?” There were so many questions stuck in his throat, almost choking him. Wisp like smoke curls under his palms as he blinks away shock.
“If you agree to help us, Sapnap and George will be on the first cargo over.”
“And why should I believe that?” He said quietly. His knees are weak and his stomach curls before he forces himself to untense. Dream can’t let her see him like this. She'd hold it over his head for years. “You’ve lied to me before.”
Her eyes curve into a sick smile. “I’ve only ever held the entire truth. I never lied.”
“Half-truths become lies eventually. I can’t trust you.”
Hia handler scoffed, something twisting her face. She looked every bit as evil as her soul was. “Fine then. I’ll have Sapnap sent over immediately. When he gets here, you help me.”
Dream knew he shouldn’t. Nothing was morally right about what he was going to agree to. The ghost that curled at his feet whispered for her blood. But he wasn’t a killer either. Not yet. He was just a fool in love. “If he gets here, I will."
There were flashing lights and a voice.
Neon strobe lights and an overcrowded dance floor.
A flash of golden blonde hair and a whisper.
" you couldn't protect him. you failed him. " the first accused.
" he doesn't blame you. you could fix this." the second encouraged.
In another world, a different version of him also had these nightmares.
They were in a suit too big for them and a job that doomed them.
In a heartbeat, they are gone. Lost to him.
The floor breaks apart under him. One foot sinks in.
He sees baby blue eyes watching as he falls to hell.
" you left me. " he chokes on his words.
" i miss you. " he doesn't manage to say.
One of them gets their life back, forces themself to move on so they don't go insane.
Another drowns on their grief and they let themselves fall if it means they can see him.
Something, someone, cuts the nightmare in half. He was falling and now he is staring into a blurry version of his room. His heartbeat heavily in his chest, stuttering loudly as rain tapped against his glass.
"...Tubbo," Dream called out, appearing suddenly. The rain pattered out and it was like time froze. Suddenly his different place made sense, Dream pulled him there. "You haven't slept recently." I'm worried about you.
"Oh, yeah," Tubbo rubbed at his eyes, readjusting to the floaty feeling that came with Dream's powers. He didn’t want to be here, but it was better than that nightmare. "Sorry, I just... I can't sleep well recently."
"Understandable." That's okay. No one expects you to.
Tubbo squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ignore the words writing themselves out around Dream. He doesn't want the condolences. Not when Tubbo can't help his friends or even himself.
"Tubbo, I get that you don't want to look at me. But please, I don't want you to beat yourself up over this." Dream isn't looking him in the eye anymore, it does help with the words. But how can he not beat himself up? He left Tommy alone and then they got hurt.
"It's my fault, Dream. What else am I supposed to do?"
Dream sighed. "You can't control Tommy, Tubbo. And you can't be there with him forever."
"He's gone, Dream." Tubbo spits out, turning to look him right in the eye. If Dream could read his thoughts he’d hear the ' he left me' that followed. But he wasn’t and the green-clad man's thought started flickering into existence. George. Tubbo reminds me of when George-
"I know." Dream snapped, their voice laced with frustration and irritation. It was guilty on a deeper level. It was an apology to someone that wasn't Tubbo.
Tubbo bit back an apology. This wasn't why Dream was here. Even if they tried hiding it, Tubbo could dig deeper if he truly wanted to. It was a last resort though. "Why are you here, Dream."
"To help," Dream sincerely promised. There were no hidden meanings behind his words. Tubbo didn't trust them more though. Dream was a skilled liar. "You helped me once, so I'm repaying the favour." But I’m not sure if this would help you.
"I know where Tommy is."
"What?" Tubbo desperately stood. Dream shot him a wary glance and he swallowed a lump in his throat. It wasn’t a good thing when Dream hesitated. "Where?"
Dream bit his tongue, turning away from him. The silence was thick until Dream swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at him. "The U.I.S.D came for him, Tubbo. They took him."
"Wha-What?" His voice broke. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Tommy had found a soulmate. He was supposed to be safe. "You're lying." please be lying, he wanted to beg.
I'm sorry. Dream silently looked away. Tubbo couldn't help it, breaking down into sobs. Everyone knew the stories. Tubbo better than anyone.
"What am I supposed to do?" Tubbo wailed, dragging his nails down his face. Pathetic, he hiccupped to himself. He was pathetic. Dream turned around finally.
"You already know what you have to do. The question is, are you strong enough to do it?"
Tubbo whimpered pathetically. Rubbing the snot off on his sweater, he shook his head. "I don't know." He’s not strong enough to keep Tommy safe in the first place, how could he be strong enough for this?
Dream sighed. His green figure flickered in the moonlight. The pale green eyes stared at him, seeing a million things. None of which Tubbo understood. He hated not understanding. "You're not. You might never be. But you're gonna have to do it anyway."
"For Tommy," Tubbo croaked out, hiccuping. Dream nodded. "For Tommy." Don't go alone. It was the last piece of advice he could give.
"Thank you," He whispered, but Dream was already gone and Tubbo woke up alone. The rain tapped his glass and he started crying.
Dream's lips press into a thin line, he can't meet his handlers eyes. The dirty, bloodied floor is all he can bear to look at. The guilt weighs him down, the lies taste like ash on his tongue and Sapnap was always the one in love with fire. "I did what you asked of me." Is all he can manage, the same horrifying tremble in his voice as a man held at gunpoint. He doesn't deserve Sapnap's pity when they clutch his hand tighter. His slightest help was out-weighed by convincing Tubbo to go in the first place.
His handler smiles down at him, smug with all that she's managed. Her sharp nails tap against her desk, scraping along slightly. Sapnap winces next to him but Dream keeps his shoulders level. "I'm glad. You have an odd connection to that Tubbo boy, but I knew that Sapnap's return would guarantee your help."
Sapnap's body trembled as they bit back their ire. Sapnap's always been stronger than Dream in that regard. He never lost his will, the fire that kept his body going despite everything. Sapnap was a spitfire and he wouldn't stand to be anything else. Dream wished he could keep that same resolve, but he was a weak man whose weakness' were laid out like a silver platter for anyone to use against him. Who's soul marks were scarred over because everyone already knew where he hurt.
"But sadly George is having more trouble getting here. In fact, he won't arrive."
Dream's head snaps up, his soulmate's anger blending with his own. "What-? But-, you promised! You said he would-! You lied to me-!" Sapnap was a spitfire but Dream was always quick to anger, like lava bubbling over. Like a volcanic eruption. This was why he was dangerous. They were his weak spots but they were also his greatest strengths.
"Now, Dream-"
"NO!" He screams, his hands burning up. Sapnap can't be hurt, they only press closer. To calm him or egg him on, he's unsure. "WHY ISN'T HE HERE?"
They flinch away from him, swallowing back something Dream didn't care enough to decipher. "He-, It's classified." They took a step back, slamming back against an old desk that was empty except for two sheets of paper. They fell to the floor and Sapnap started screaming.
"SHE'S LYING! LIAR! LIAR!" Sapnap screamed again, his hair blazing on fire. They had been so silent before this, simply comforting Dream. But he could only watch, drawn into the boiling inferno that was his soulmate like a moth to a flame. "DREAM! DON'T LET HER-! DREAM-!"
This was why they were dangerous together...
Dream knew people died in the facility. He's seen people whose eyes are blank and their body's still and whose blood pool around them like halos. He never knew how many until he started bringing them back from the dead to fight for him. Dozens, if not hundreds, rose from the depths of hell. Hands clambered over her face, tearing at her skin. Her eyes locked onto Dream's, a terrified plead for help in her crying.
Sapnap stumbled into his arms, their fire flickering as they started crying. Dream let the restless souls whose revenge still wasn't done go and wrapped Sapnap in his arms. The keys were on her dead body and no one would have realized they left if they used the older hallways. Not until they were already gone. Sapnap, his spitfire, whimpered into his chest. "Is he dead?"
For once, Dream didn't have an answer to that.
Purpled didn’t have a soulmate. It never bothered him much. Definitely not as much as it bothered the rest of society.
His body laid bare besides the scars on his hands or the mole on his arm. And it changed nothing.
Scientists called it multiple things. A mutation, a devolution of his biology, a mistake. Although that last one usually just referred to him rather than his “condition”. But Purpled just lacked the fucks to give. Maybe when he was a kid it bothered him, but he outgrew the want to fit in. He knew he didn't have to be normal to fit in.
But right now he’s wondering whether or not having a soul bond would help him understand Tommy’s plights better. His friend was suffering from something that went deeper than Purpled felt comfortable with. Years of trauma or something like that. Purpled didn’t know how to help with any of it.
Emotions weren’t his strong suit, as Tubbo loved to teasingly remind him. He worked out his problems through actions and fighting. It wasn’t an easy thing for him to comfort someone. So he just awkwardly stood around Tommy, hoping that just being there would help comfort him. But Tommy was 1000% more traumatized than Purpled had thought so he finally decided to do something more.
Words still weren’t his strong suit though, so he dragged Tommy into his room and forced him into a movie night. It was really the only option.
“Why do I have to be here?” Tommy scowled, collapsed back onto Purpled’s nicest blanket. Which in reality was stolen from Astelic who had stolen it from Hannah.
Purpled gave his best smile, which Squid always called ugly despite giving him extra potatoes every time, and gestured to the popcorn. “Movie night. You can’t say no.”
Tommy squinted at him, his nose scrunched up. Losing the mental argument to himself, Tommy nodded. Snatching a bowl of popcorn, he popped a piece into his mouth. “Can we at least watch Up?”
“Uh,” He considered it. Tommy has seen the movie at least two dozen times, but tonight was also about making him feel better. Tommy pouted and he instantly caved. “Yeah, sure. We can watch Up.”
Tommy relaxed, moving to let Purpled settle in beside him. As the opening started, Purpled considered his job as acting Emotional Support Friend fulfilled for the day. He has no clue how Ranboo does this so often, it’s confusing.
Tommy leaned into his shoulder, eyes still locked onto the small screen. Purpled relaxes into the touch as Tommy begins mouthing the lines as they come along, his eyes shining with unbridled enjoyment. Picking up Hannah's blanket, he threw it over his and Tommy’s shoulders. Tommy sighed contently as he ate another handful of popcorn.
Maybe he should have movie nights more often. They didn’t seem like such a bad idea, especially since there was popcorn involved. improving tommy's mood only had a bit to do with it.