Chapter Text
“Come on in!” Puffy called, loud enough to be heard by the person at the door.
Dream’s eyes were turned to the door with the sound of combat boots stepping upon the wooden flooring, he turned to see green hair, piercing green eyes with black scleras and that gas mask, the one that haunted his nightmares.
Shit. “Hey Sam,” Dream tried to sound as enthusiastic as possible. The blonde was only greeted back with the scent of gunpowder; agitation.
The creeper moved to sit on an armchair by the sofa that Dream was resting on Fuck, fuck, fuck- Dream glanced around as if he were searching for a place to hide as Sam sat down “What’s up with George.” Red smoke rose from the gas mask as Sam spoke, his voice somewhat muffled but still understandable.
“They, um..” Dream failed to think of an excuse as to what happened; the creeper wasn't helping with the thought process.
“They're never this sound of a sleeper.” The scent of gunpowder grew more potent in the air. The strength of the scent reminded Dream of that fateful day—doomsday—where he and Technoblade destroyed L'manburg for the final time, with TNT hailing from the skies there was no scent other than gunpowder.
“What did you do.”
That singular accusatory sentence brought Dream out of his thoughts.
“Now,” The blonde laughed nervously “I know you won't believe me Sam but I didn't do anything,” He spoke quickly, digging himself a deeper hole What was Puffy thinking when she invited the one guy, whose veins are filled with absolute hate towards me, into mine and George’s house? He thought, panicked.
It was when Sam stood that Dream knew he was fucked.