Chapter Text
Sapnap’s feet were heavy as they hit the ground, pounding rhythmically as he made chase behind George. Fury drove him through his exhaustion and pain, anger that the other man was trying to leave without facing the consequences of his actions. Anything would have been better than nothing, but his utter lack of emotions when he’d admitted to being responsible for both Bad and Dream’s deaths, and for considering and attempting to kill him too, had left him blinded with rage. Sapnap chased George out of the village, George managing to put a little distance between himself and Sapnap with every step he took, though Sapnap wasn’t relenting.
Cobblestone paths covered in debris soon gave way into short grass that brushed at the hem of their jeans, squishing down and bouncing back as their feet hammered against the Earth beneath them. With the sun rising, and the bright light of the beacon illuminating the world around them, the area was almost completely devoid of mobs and that gave them one less thing to think about while they ran.
“George, stop !” Sapnap yelled, his breathing heavy, but his words fell on deaf ears. George was focused entirely on running, his fists balled together tightly as he fought with the turmoil of emotions inside him. He had just about kept himself composed in the church, he had been able to keep everything bottled up and hidden behind a wall of nothingness, but that wall was starting to crumble and he wanted to be alone before he began to unpack everything.
Dream was back, he’d done what they set out to do, and now he needed time and space to figure out everything else that had happened in between.
Bad was dead, he’d killed Bad even if it had been an accident. He’d suggested killing Sapnap because he’d seen him as a liability, he’d tried to kill Sapnap when he’d slipped up in the Nether. He felt like a monster and he was beginning to look like one too. Even with the mask on he couldn’t shake the image of himself he’d seen reflected in the water the night before, though with the world around him painted in blues and purples he hadn’t been given an opportunity to forget it. This prophecy, whatever it was, he needed to know more about it and himself to be able to control whatever was happening to him.
Maybe if he could do that he would deserve a chance to come back home.
“Stop running George!”
Sapnap’s voice behind him was like an echo from another life and he wanted to turn around and face him, he wanted to be honest and tell him everything, to remove the mask on his face and show him what he was becoming, but Sapnap would be furious enough with him already and he didn’t want to offer the man another reason to fear and hate him.
He would’ve continued running if he hadn’t found himself being cut off by the elements.
A river meandered in front of him, curling around the contours of the land and glistening in the morning sun. He could teleport, but he was utterly exhausted and with the state his mind was already in he didn’t believe he had the strength to quickly and safely disappear from where he was. He needed to buy himself just enough time, he needed to give himself a moment to breathe and to think.
“George!”
Sapnap’s tone was cold, menacing, accusatory, and as George skidded to a halt and turned around to face him he held his hand out as if he could stop him through nothing more than his mind.
“Don’t come any closer!” He yelled as loud as he could, his eyes squeezed shut for a moment. When the sound of running had stopped and George was confident that there was distance between the two of them he opened his eyes, his chest rising and falling slowly as he caught his breath. Sapnap was stood completely still several meters away, and he looked utterly horrified. Had his mask fallen off? Perhaps his hands had become more purple than before? But when he looked at the position Sapnap was in - his left leg off the floor and his arm out in front of him like he was still mid-sprint - he panicked.
“George, what’ve you done?” Sapnap asked, his voice wavering fearfully. George looked down to his hand, fingers splayed out and pulsing with energy as he seemed to hold the other man frozen in his position, and he felt himself begin to shake. Whether it was from fear or from sheer exhaustion he didn’t know, but he knew that the moment this stopped Sapnap would be running closer to him and he wouldn’t have a second to escape.
“I’m sorry--” He said breathlessly, feeling a stinging sensation behind his mask as a tear fell from the corner of his eyes, and he disappeared in the blink of an eye.
Sapnap’s body dropped to the ground unceremoniously, landing with a thud in a particularly muddy patch. He closed his eyes and for a moment simply remained there, letting his mind catch up with everything that had happened.
Dream was alive. He was glad Dream had come back to life, and even if George hadn’t been the one to give him the potion, that had been the decision he had come to. Dream would be the one to know if there was another way to bring their friend back to life, Dream was the quickest to react, to adapt, the best fighter and the best strategist - that’s why he had always worked alone whenever they had played in their manhunts before. It would hurt not bringing Bad back, but he’d been bringing Dream back knowing that it was the best chance of having everyone back together again. George’s lack of care and thought for the other man was what had hurt him most of all.
George was gone. Whatever had happened to him, whatever this prophecy meant, it had taken his friend away from him. He had watched as George had disappeared, too, and he could pinpoint exactly when it had started to happen. When they’d been in the desert searching for Endermen, something had changed in him. It had changed even more in the End, and by the time they fought the Wither his friend was no more. Now he hid behind a mask - and Sapnap was certain he’d seen something glowing behind the slits for his eyes - and was cautious of water. He didn’t want to think about what it meant, and he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to guess the whole truth if he began to approach it, but he had enough suspicions to know that George was gone.
And Bad was dead. Perhaps with Dream’s help he would still be able to bring Bad back, but if they couldn’t? People would need to know, a funeral would need to be organised - Bad had done so much for them and he deserved to be remembered and loved in return. As much as Sapnap had teased the man for his not-so-hidden affections for Skeppy, he dreaded the idea of telling him what had happened. Maybe the truth would never be revealed, maybe it would be something he’d keep to himself to give Bad’s friends peace, but it was something he feared he would have to consider sooner rather than later.
Then there was himself. Broken, exhausted, and defeated. He’d lost his arm, he’d lost his spirit and could barely imagine what life would be like going forward. Even if he and Dream did somehow manage to bring Bad back once more there was still the matter of George. George was part of their family, like it or not, and not having him with them would be like living without a lung. Their lives wouldn’t be as full or as happy, they would have lost an important part of themselves and would never have been able to say goodbye properly. He couldn’t imagine continuing to be such close friends with Bad and Dream when a part of them was missing, but he couldn’t imagine the rest of his life without them after trying so hard to bring them home. He felt crushed, he felt betrayed, and he felt lost.
He closed his eyes as he got to his feet once more, pushing himself from the mud and neglecting to wipe away the dirt from his clothes and body. He needed to return to the village, to Dream, and he needed to talk. Things needed to be explained and fixed and his friend needed to be taken care of.
While the run to reach the river had taken place over a matter of minutes, the walk back might as well have taken hours. His body felt sluggish and weak and his head drooped down from his shoulders miserably. Illumina’s words about the prophecy that involved the four of them - that they would be remembered as heroes - had crept back to the front of his mind. If the fight with the Wither hadn’t been it then he found himself worrying about what it could be. He wished that the ground would open up beneath him and swallow him whole so he never had to experience whatever hell the Gods had in store for them.
Then again, maybe it was all a lie.
His feet felt sore as his boots hit cobblestone and regardless of the rest that Dream would need to be well enough again to venture out, he knew he needed to take time for himself. He hadn’t thought about taking care of himself for the past week and it showed painfully, and he found himself selfishly looking forward to having the excuse of helping Dream to slow down just a little. Long nights of sleep in a comfortable bed, days that didn’t bring the fear of death with them at every corner… It was a relief to finally have some kind of space to breathe.
Sapnap looked up again, bringing his hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the glow of the beacon as he walked through the narrow streets when he was stopped, a young child running up to him and wrapping her arms around his legs as tightly as she could.
Sapnap jumped back a little and he could see the girl’s father calling to her, beckoning her back to his side. The girl pulled away, giving Sapnap a toothy grin and speaking sweetly to him.
“Thank you for saving my mummy.” She said before she skipped away from him. Sapnap felt his stomach twist at that, and he blinked until he felt tears falling from his cheeks. He’d felt useless since he’d lost his arm, there was no way of hiding how he felt like a burden to his friends (and George’s suggestion to kill him had only solidified his thinking), but now he felt… Worthy . He had done something good, he had saved lives when he had helped evacuate the village from the Wither’s attack and no matter how he twisted it, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling just a little.
It gave him the energy he needed to continue his walk back to the church, warmth bubbling in his chest and hope that he would be able to do something to bring Bad back. He felt confident as he walked through the doors of the building, though the chill of the uninsulated, stone structure quickly returned to his bones as he looked down the aisle of the church.
“Illumina?” He asked, the man standing at the altar in dark blue robes.
“You saved Dream, then?”
“I didn’t… Where is Dream?”
Illumina hesitated at that, his eyebrows furrowing together in concern at his words. “The potion is gone, did you not give it to Dream and leave with him?”
“Dream’s gone--” He whispered, the hope in his mind crushed and the shattered remains jumped on until they were dust. His jaw was slack with shock and he shook his head. “He can’t-- He can’t have gone far, he’s barely alive, he needs to rest!”
“As do you.” Illumina told him, wandering towards him slowly and offering him a hand. “You are in no state to chase after your friend. Fate will lead him to where he must go, and fate will bring him back home.”
“He’s going to die if he’s alone out there! Again! I can’t lose him again, and Bad--”
“Unless you have more Dragon’s breath, there’s no use in making another potion. There’s nothing else that can bring him back and his body will only remain preserved for a few more weeks. After then, even I cannot stop it from beginning to decompose. It may be kinder to him to say goodbye now.”
Sapnap felt his mind crumbling around him and as he took the hand Illumina offered his knees gave way, hitting against the cold stone floor with a crack and causing a dull ache to throb through his legs. He didn’t care, he couldn’t care, everything they’d fought for and everything they’d lost had been for nothing… The hopelessness returned tenfold and he closed his eyes, his shoulders beginning to shake as he let out a sob.
“What am I supposed to do?” Sapnap asked quietly, shaking his head. “How am I supposed to know what to do next? You said the prophecy involved the four of us, how do I help my friends?”
“What does your heart tell you?” Illumina asked gently, and as Sapnap took in a shaky breath he spoke.
“I need to call home, I need someone else to help me.”
Maybe the prophecy was wrong about who would be remembered, maybe Bad and Dream had never been part of the story. But it wasn’t time to think about that, it was time to let himself rest and wait for someone to join him. Skeppy and a6d would help, he was sure they would know what to do. They had to know what to do.
# # #
The forest around Dream was thick and dark, and he was relieved for the cover it provided. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the world around him as he learned to be alive again, and as his legs grew tired of supporting his body he was in no shortage of trees to lean against until he found the will to go on again.
His mind was full of so many horrible things, the confusing argument between Sapnap and George that he could hardly believe was real, the confession from George before he had run off into the day, Bad’s body… It weighed on him heavily and lost in the forest he finally felt as if he could begin to process things.
Firstly, Dream thought about what his friends had done. He had died, and they had immediately put themselves in danger to bring him back despite knowing that if they died too, they wouldn’t respawn. How could they think he was worth such a price? He would never trade their lives for his, but he could understand where their thoughts had come from. If the same thing had happened to any of them he’d have run head first into the Nether and wrestled a Blaze naked while covered in oil if that meant there was a chance he could bring them back to life. So while it hurt to know that they had suffered in his name - that Bad had died and Sapnap had lost his arm - he understood. But he would spend the rest of his life making things right. He needed to find a way to bring Bad back, his mind was already thinking of every possible solution to that, but fixing Sapnap’s arm would be easier. He’d made George goggles to fix his vision before, it would be different to make Sapnap a new arm but not impossible - after all, the pair had spent years playing with redstone in their adolescence. Surely he’d be able to find a way to make that work for good rather than mischief for once.
He then began to think about George, the man that before all this had happened he had begun to realise he had feelings for. George, his best friend, so happy and bright and kind had supposedly killed Bad? It couldn’t have been in cold blood, he couldn’t picture George maliciously turning against his friends and the thought made him feel sick all over again. No, there had to be some kind of explanation, some kind of misunderstanding. Even if George himself had admitted that he’d killed Bad and tried to kill Sapnap, Dream couldn’t believe it until he’d heard the full story. George had been hidden behind a mask - both physically and emotionally - and Dream knew that there had to be more to it than he had seen in the moments since he’d woken up.
It was just a shame that, lost in the middle of a dark forest, he was unable to ask any questions.
He continued to walk through fields of mushrooms and dewy grass, his hands in his pockets as he tried to force himself to walk without supports, but he found himself growing tired as his mind stopped thinking and just focused on the world around him again. He could hear in the distance the crashing of water on rocks and imagined a waterfall, light droplets of water filling the air and fragmenting light until a rainbow shone. Perhaps fish would dart upstream and frogs would hop between rocks and lily pads. Maybe things would be peaceful, maybe a part of the world would be untouched by the horrors that had clearly unfolded in the last week.
While he didn’t walk far enough to find the waterfall itself, he did find a river, and spent several minutes standing on the bank and watching as the water rushed by. It was clear and the stones beneath the water appeared to shimmer in the sun as it refracted between waves. Dream smiled, lowering himself to the ground and pushing his shoes off his feet before dangling his toes into the river. The water was cold and sent a shiver down his spine, the hairs on his arms standing on end while he allowed himself a moment of refreshment and enjoyment. Being dead had left him feeling dirty and tired, and as he leaned forward to fill his hands with water and splash it over his face he felt much more awake and alert. Birds were singing, leaves were rustling, and however horrific the situation he found himself in was, he was thankful to be alive.
He rested there for a while longer, until the cold water was no longer a relief but a burden, and he looked up at the sky. Though the canopy above him blocked out most of the light he could tell that the sun was past its peak and would soon be setting. He would need to find shelter to keep himself safe overnight, but for now the rumbling of his stomach directed his actions. He needed food, and while he found himself sat beside a river he found an easy solution.
Looking through the water to spot fish swimming in the shallows, Dream spent a short while trying to catch one with his hand. His reflexes weren’t what they used to be and it took him several attempts to even get close, but after a little over twenty minutes (and one fall that had left him face first in the water) he had managed to catch two small salmon from the river. He laid them on the grassy bank, taking off his hoodie and shirt and placing them on the ground beside the fish as they flopped around. He gathered sticks quickly that had fallen from the trees and built a small pyre, using pebbles from the riverbed to keep everything in place as he rubbed sticks together hurriedly until he saw a spark. It took a little while longer and the air was beginning to chill, but the sticks eventually caught fire and he managed to add some larger pieces of wood to keep it going for longer. He sat close by as he used a particularly pointy rock to remove the scales and bones of the fish, and found a sharp stick to hold them over the fire to cook. As it crackled and the light in the forest began to change he felt himself and his clothes starting to dry off from his adventure in the river. By the time he was picking at the fish (a little overcooked, but preferable to raw) he felt pleasantly warm and could enjoy the sounds of the wildlife around him. He could hear the gentle hum of insects - midges trying to bite at his skin leaving him with no choice but to pull on the still slightly damp clothing to stop himself from itching - birds were nesting for the night and mice were starting to emerge from the undergrowth. When he heard the first hoot of an owl he decided that he needed to make a move before mobs started to appear and attack him while he was defenseless. He extinguished the fire, drank a little fresh water straight from the river, before taking his pointy stick and a pocketful of sharp rocks and searching for somewhere to stay the night.
He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, perhaps a tree whose branches grew in a fashion that would make sleeping a safe endeavour, or a cave he could hide himself away in, but he certainly hadn’t been looking for what he’d found.
He saw the cobblestone walls first, rising just a little above him before they became wooden. At night it was difficult to take in just how large of a structure he’d stumbled upon, the darkness cloaking the end of the building and hiding the entrance just out of his view, but there was no questioning what he’d found. He craned his neck to look up at the windows, straining to see if there was any light emanating from the inside, but aside from the odd glow it was almost completely dark. He wondered if that meant the inhabitants were sleeping - perhaps he would be able to sneak in without being caught and rest somewhere warm and comfortable and take off before he was found in the morning.
But then his mind moved back to his friends, to Bad, and he found himself thinking something very different.
It wasn’t quite a plan, even Dream couldn’t stretch his thought that far, but he was armed with rocks and a sharp stick, he was more than capable of coming up with a plan using just that. What else was he supposed to do? Walk away when a solution to his problems presented itself? The universe had given him this mansion for a reason, and he wasn’t about to waste it. Neither George, Sapnap nor Bad were around to tell him just how stupid his idea was, so he had no intention of listening to their voices in his head cautioning him against whatever he was thinking of.
With a reckless grin on his face, Dream began to walk quietly around the building. He hugged the walls and remained in the shadows to keep himself hidden from the inhabitants and from the monsters that lurked in the forest, knowing that before long he would be in much more danger (and preferring not to enter the mansion already injured).
As he found a way in he took one of the torches placed on the ground in his left hand, his right reaching into his pocket and grabbing a weighty stone that he could throw at the first sign of danger. At least if he fell at the first hurdle he wouldn’t have risked much to bring his friends home, and no one would know what had happened to him.
He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before he stepped through the archway and into the unknown. Whatever happened from here on out, it was all for his friends.