Chapter Text
Techno was gone.
He had disappeared…literally.
Once second the man had been scrambling around the room with Quackity on his tail, pickaxe raised. He had jumped over Dream’s crossed legs, making him pull the soft cat, which he had named Patches into his chest. He had fought to suppress that irritating flinch he had developed due to Quackity's so called 'lessons'. And then Techno had vanished into thin air as did Dream’s only comfort in here. His heart had stopped as Quackity spun to look at him.
The shorter man had been beyond anger, beyond fury. He had been irate. And Dream knew with certain dread that he was a dead man, it didn’t matter that Quackity still didn’t have the revive book, the one-eyed man was too angry to care anymore.
He had grabbed the cat out of Dream’s arms yelling at Sam that Techno had escaped. Quackity had flung the cat into the lava without hesitation, Dream’s mouth had hung open behind his mask as a terrible screech matched Quackity’s high-pitched shouts.
Then the punches had begun. Dream was so used to pain that he no longer cared, what hurt the most was that Techno had escaped and Dream was getting the brunt of Quackity's anger. He was knocked sideways, for a terrifying second he thought his mask was going to shatter as he hit the ground. But it didn’t. Quackity was screaming at him about where Techno had gone, ignoring the pleas that slipped from Dream’s throat.
He was tired. So, fucking tired. He wanted to George’s gentle hands or Sapnap’s warmth or Techno’s cape that the taller had allowed Dream to use as a pillow. Quackity was going to kill me, the axe was raised above his head and Dream couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t move, his own blood pooling around him. At least he had always given the people he had killed a quick death.
He looked up at Quackity’s single brown eye that burnt with the anger of a thousand storms he saw the fear behind it. But it was Sam’s voice that stopped Quackity bring that axe down, it was Sam that for some reason who saved him. Dream watched in disbelief as Quackity crossed back over, the creeper-hybrid also panicking as the two men shouted at each other.
He forced his arms to move, covering up his bleeding cuts and his nose, he couldn’t leave any traces.
He had to move.
He had seconds to act.
If he didn’t, he was dead.
Maybe he deserved to be. But something that had also been so integral to Dream’s personality was his defiance against Death, he refused to die, and he wasn’t about to start now.
He checked to make sure he wasn’t dripping blood before dropping into the toilet. His head submerged for a few seconds, familiar now after so long digging this passage. He tucked himself into the small hole of obsidian, forcing a shaky breath into his lungs as he waited. He was scared. Like he had never been before. This wasn’t like manhunt where he could fight back, it wasn’t even like out on the server where he had the ability to defend himself. Here he was completely and utterly helpless, seconds away from death.
The water somewhat blocked the sound of Quackity and Sam’s yells, but it didn’t stop the sound of a piercing alarm that split the air a minute after Dream had curled into his hole. He tucked his head into his knees, they thought he had escaped! Quackity wasn’t going to kill him, as long as he stayed here hidden. Food would be an issue but after so many months of Sam deliberately cutting his food supply regularly, Dream wasn’t a stranger to hunger. If he could hang on long enough... long enough for Techno to come. The two had spent so much time talking and planning that the pink haired man had to be coming for him. He had to be!
Who do you miss, Dream?
Even here in the tiny one block hole Tommy’s words followed him.
He missed Ponk. He missed how the man held both innocence and mischief in one hand with a strange juxtaposition that was just so…just so Ponk. Dream missed the days when Ponk had been the one to slip on the banana peel, to make others laugh, the days were the most grieving and destruction on the server was burning down Ponk’s numerous lemon trees.
Ponk had been a close friend once. Yes, maybe he had been closer to George but the hooded man had followed Dream for a long time, even when he remained neutral he had always had time to drop by Dream to offer him some stupid potion, but more importantly he had been one of the few people to talk to him and make him laugh after he had cut George and Sapnap out of his life.
“What is this, huh? Cat got your tongue?”
It had hurt so much that day. When the first time Dream saw true disgust and hatred cross Ponk’s face it had been directed at him. Gone was the face of the young man that followed George or Tommy or Dream around the server like a lost puppy. The Ponk that stood before him looked as lost as the wandering traders that passed through the land. He had bags under his eyes and his hands were scarred and bruised from the months of war in which he had been the collateral damage of. No one had ever chosen Ponk.
Ponk had always been everybody's last choice and despite it all the man had always put a smile on his own and other’s faces; had always worked hard to please people.
Dream missed the days where he would teach Ponk all the tricks of PVP or speed-bridging. The man had always apologized for mucking up when in reality he had exceeded Dream’s expectations of him by a long shot.
Who do you miss, Dream?
He missed Eret. He was another man who had never truly had a side, not after the first war. Eret had given up everything to Dream because he was loyal to L’manberg but none of them had seen it… no one except Dream. But then again, Dream was no better than Wilbur or Tommy when it came to Eret, at least they didn’t hide their distrust or hate for Eret. When it had come down to it, Dream had chosen George over Eret, had given Eret back the crown that placed a bounty on his own head. He had been willing to let the man die for George's saftey.
Dream missed Eret’s wisdom or his pale blue calming presence. The sever got so fast paced when Tommy joined, only Eret had been able to bring Dream back down to earth, the man had given him a space to sit by the river that ran through his magnificent castle and just fish. It hadn’t been Bad, as everyone had assumed, who had taught Dream to fish. It had been Eret. Their strange relationship formed after the war. Dream gave Eret power but also companionship, Dream didn’t know whether Eret had ever noticed, especially after he dethroned George, how Dream had kept him company for the same reason as Eret sought him out.
Companionship...
“Down with the revolution boys! It was never meant to be.”
Clever, ambitious but kind Eret. The first traitor of the server, the original author of the most repeated line in this server’s history. Eret who had been on Dream’s side all the way up until his imprisonment, who had watched L’manberg crumble under Wilbur once and Dream twice because he saw what the others didn’t. L’manberg hadn’t ever been a city or a plot of land. It had been the people. The land itself was rotten and polluted with memories that should be left in the past.
Eret had been right in so many ways. ‘It was never meant to be’. L’manberg. El Rapids. Tubbo as President. Wilbur’s death…the Dream Team.
Who do you miss, Dream?
He missed Hbomb. Dream looked at the bracelet that hung round his wrist, a simple brown woven band that had seven rings clumped together on it. A simple trinket that Sam had allowed him to keep.
A game. A puzzle.
The challenge was to separate all seven interlocked rings into one single ring. Dream had told HBomb it was impossible, but the man had smirked at him as he fiddled with the metal for a few seconds, only to then hold up a single large silver ring, made up of all seven smaller ones.
HBomb was a relatively new friend, Dream still felt guilty that the man’s first day had been the election and consequently Wilbur and Tommy’s exile. Dream missed HBomb’s enthusiasm but also wisdom. He was older than most people on the sever, excluding Philza. He always seemed so wise to Dream, able to match him in strategy but more importantly able to tame Dream’s adrenaline, he taught Dream how to use it instead of being controlled by it.
HBomb was a team player, one of the best of the best.
“Bad deeds cause people to do bad thing”
HBomb was right, he was old enough and neutral enough to see the sever for what it was. None of them were perfect. There were no heroes, no villains, only broken teenagers who had been forced to grow up too quickly in a world that was cruel enough to make them as vicious and ruthless as the land itself.
He missed the stupid challenges that only he could invent or how he ran a gameshow where he got people to talk, openly and without fear. Dream missed the excitement and pride that came to light in HBomb’s eyes when they discussed challenges or tournaments. How the man loved to tease Dream no matter how much the rest of the server feared or hated him.
Dream gazed into the dark blue water. It seemed so cold down here away from the ever present wall of lava.
Who do you miss, Dream?
He missed Connor. The strange man that was Tommy’s and Schlatt’s friend, who Dream had watched with interest. Innocent, bumbling Connor who had one of, if not the largest heart on the server but was used and discarded every day.
A part of Dream missed Connor, missed the weird parties the man would throw, how he would make George smile. Dream had watched from afar as Connor helped George when Sapnap was always away in Kinoko Kingdom. Connor made him smile when he had no one else to turn to. He missed the amusing playfulness that the other brought, the type that Tommy had lost many months ago.
“You’re just a conflicted person, not a bad person… and I hope you find what you’re looking for”
Connor was quiet, a pawn, but he still cared. Dream missed that about the man. He missed how the sonic dressed man made him feel as though it was okay to be openly affectionate with his friends. He was similar to HBomb in that sense, they were both usually neutral in the affairs of the sever, instead they chose people, no matter what side they sat on.
They cared.
Who do you miss, Dream?
He missed Foolish. The incredible builder that was one of the more recent additions to the server. He missed how the old god had been able to make everything feel possible, no matter how daunting the task. Dream missed his strong yet encouraging words that pushed him to be better, pushed his limits in unexpected way, usually off the battlefield. He missed Foolish’s patience when it came to building, how he waited for Dream to settle down, usually giving him some trinket to fiddle with to focus his mind. Or when the younger was restless let him wander around for around or rant about random things that came to mind. If anything, Foolish encouraged Dream’s wandering, sporadic mind, telling him that it was a strength not a weakness, that he was able to see things in a different way from most people.
“Everything is foolish, one way or another”
He missed the days where he would sit in the sun or on the scorching sand, either listening to Foolish’s plans for future builds or just chatting idly as he followed him around as the man created spectacular structures. Sometimes Foolish would let Dream build, although he always kept a close eye on the details. Foolish was a great listener, giving Dream an outlet without judgment.
Dream pressed his hands against his ears, the bloody alarm was so loud, so painful after so long in relative silence. The obsidian was so hard around him. What he would give to touch grass again, run his fingers over delicate petals of numerous flowers, maybe give a couple to George.
Roses. They had been his favorite flower once upon a time.
Who do you miss, Dream?
He missed Hannah. Her laugh, her determination that match Dream’s own, how she never took shit from anyone and stood her ground staring anyone down. Dream had a feeling that even Techno would break eye contact first if the two came to a head. He missed her strength that gave him a boost if he was down, he missed how she smelt of roses and damp earth – that calm presence that could explode at any point. He missed how she challenged him. How she called him out on stuff that others wouldn’t have.
“I’m sorry Puffy… I had to do it. I had to tell them... it was the only way”
He grieved for the loss of the girl she used to be, the one who had found him and Purpled on the roof one night and demand to be trained as well. She had kicked Purple’s ass as many times as he had hers, she never gave up even taking on both Dream and Purpled at once one night, she had lost but not before almost sending Purpled toppling off the edge.
He missed the girl she used to be, the one who wasn’t corrupted by the egg. But he supposed that many would say the same about him. He missed the people everyone was before the sever had begun, well rather before L’manberg had been created.
If he could go back in time, he wouldn’t change who was on the server, he would change L’manberg – the root of all the conflict on this sever. Even his and Tommy’s fight over the discs had been playful before Wilbur. They had all been teenagers running around, having fun. And what hurt most was that Dream remembered moments since L’manberg’s foundation where he had seen the kids they had once been shine through.
Who do you miss the most, Dream?
His own words. The biggest lie he had told on the server, the root of everything he hated about himself.
“I had to lose everything to gain everything”
He had lied. He had to lose everything so everyone else could gain everything. Without him. He missed his family. Ever single person on the SMP he missed with every bit of his shattered and ugly heart.
...
But none of them missed him.