Chapter Text
The cave is pitch black until the torch in Dream’s left hand comes alive with a flash, quickly chasing the darkness off into the corners. An eerie quiet surrounds him; the only sounds his quick laboured breaths and the crackling of fire. Dream tilts his head up, but the ceiling is too high up for the light to reach, and the only thing he can make out is a faint patch of starry sky above his landing spot.
He takes a step forward and curses when he stumbles over a rock, flinging his hand out towards the wall to steady himself. His palm leaves a wet mark of red on the cold stone. Dream considers it for a moment, wondering if he should waste time trying to cover it up, when he hears a faint voice and the sound of dirt scattering on the stone floor.
Fuck it. Dream needs to move, now.
The stab wound in his side and the possibly fractured ankle keeps him from running as fast as he’d like, but the cave turns out to lead downwards, deeper and deeper, eventually branching off into tight tunnels. Dream turns right, not even taking a second to contemplate it. He has to squeeze between rocks until the path widens again, and it makes pain throb hot white right under his skin.
A far too familiar voice rings out behind him, though he can’t distinguish whether it’s in distress or delight, and it makes Dream push forward a little harder.
Some part of him, deep inside, one that’s not busy pondering all the ways this could turn either great or horrible, hopes it was a cry of disappointment.
The winding tunnel goes on for what feels like the entire night, or maybe even forever, and Dream is starting to consider just digging his way to the surface, when he notices a faint flicker of orange dance on the rocks ahead of him, right where the path turns again.
It’s not something he needs right now, when he’s barely holding onto his health with no food on him, but. It’s a choice Dream could make, if it came to it.
A stupid choice, but then again, he’s made plenty of those already.
He dares a glance behind him. The dark seems undisturbed, and the caves are silent again, so he takes a deep breath and sets forward.
Just as he turns the corner, a growl greets him.
“Shit,” Dream groans, faltering before dropping the torch to pull out his chipped wooden axe. Its edge is already painted the brown of dried blood, and he doesn’t hesitate to swing it at the oncoming zombie.
The axe slashes at its sickly green skin, making the creature stumble back. Dream drops into a fighting stance, feeling the adrenaline sharpen his senses and fasten his heart.
Despite the rotten blood flowing out of the wound, the attack only seems to anger the zombie. It lurches forward, outstretched arms crowding Dream towards the corner as he desperately swings his weapon into its flesh. His body aches from the effort, but he makes sure each hit counts.
His focus slips for a second, but it’s enough. Dream feels jagged nails plunge into his shoulder, pulling him closer, and he digs his heels into the ground.
The zombie growls straight into Dream’s face, its putrid breath making bile rise up his throat.
Thankfully, before the creature’s sharp teeth can sink into his skin, Dream’s axe slashes straight through its neck, snapping its head almost cleanly off. The body slumps forward, still moving from the momentum and Dream leans on the wall and kicks the torso away from him.
It falls with a gross plop , and Dream hangs his head, taking a deep breath to steady his heart.
“Awh,” a voice calls out from his right, making his pulse kick right back up. “And here I was, hoping it would make my job easier.”
Dream shuts his eyes for a second, before turning his head towards the hunter. The axe hangs heavy by his side, and he can feel fresh blood flowing from the wounds he’d reopened during the fight.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” he spits out. The lava pool a few meters in front of him splatters and pops, its orange heat flickering in the dark glasses that cover his hunter’s face. Dream watches as the slight smile on his face grows just a bit before turning into a mocking pout.
“That really hurts, Dream .” The name on his lips, in his honey sweet voice, feels like poison in Dream’s mouth. “I thought we were friends.”
“Fuck off,” he snarls out, pushing off the wall despite the protest in his aching muscles. He tightens the grip on his axe, staring straight into the eyes hiding behind black glass. “Or do I have to kill you again?”
The grin returns.
“I think you’ll find it won’t change much.”
His opponent takes a step closer before reaching back and pulling out a sword. The honed iron shimmers in the dim orange light, and he twirls it just a bit, as if teasing Dream.
“Well, for one,” Dream starts and lurches forwards, swinging his axe before the hunter can even establish a proper grip on his weapon. He stumbles but blocks it easily, still smiling. “It would make me feel really fucking good.”
Dream pulls the axe back and kicks at the hunter’s shins. Despite his unstable stance, he leaps back, keeping his balance and then rushes back at Dream, bringing the sword down on him and forcing him to duck out of its path.
He’s trying to corner me, Dream realizes, eyes darting around for an opportunity. And then this will truly be over.
In a desperate attempt, he fakes a step to the left and then twists to the right, rolling under the swing of the sword.
“Oh, Dream,” the hunter giggles, turning to face him lightning fast, and before Dream can fully get back up, his heavy boot connects with Dream’s shoulder. The kick sends him sprawling backwards, the jagged edges of rocks digging into his back. “I think your luck is finally running out.”
“Not luck,” Dream gasps out. His muscles spasm and the pain darkens corners of his vision. He forces himself to move, crawling back as he watches every move of his opponent. “I’m just better than you.”
The remark hits and the hunter falters for a moment, a frown taking over his expression. Dream crouches and grips his axe, already anticipating the hit of his sword.
He blocks it, holding the stance, watching as the sharp iron digs into the worn wood and slowly splinters it.
The hunter doesn’t say a word, just hisses, pushing down just a little stronger, so the point of his sword touches Dream’s cheek.
The cool iron barely scratches his skin before he jerks his head away. Somehow, it seems like the cold touch teases out a new wave of adrenaline and it crashes into Dream, giving him enough strength to swiftly push back, forcing the hunter to relent his attack.
Dream takes the opportunity and jumps back to his feet.
“Got nothing to say to that, huh?” he wipes the back of his hand against his cheek, mouth running before Dream even realizes what he’s doing.
The hunter just pants for a moment, sword held up with both arms, beads of sweat running down his chin. His face is now fully illuminated by the lava, and in the yellow-orange light of it Dream can almost see the narrowed eyes behind the glasses, under the moist dark hair splattered on his forehead.
“There’s nothing left to say,” the hunter replies, his frown slowly sliding back to that cocky smile. He strides forward, forcing Dream to take a step back, and the shadows on the wall behind the hunter seem to grow infinitely bigger as Dream realizes the heat on his back isn’t from the exertion of their fight.
A lava bubble pops behind him, the sound almost ridiculously ominous in the tense silence of the cave.
The hunter tilts his head and stretches his arm out. The tip of his sword stops centimeters away from Dream’s chest. Dream brings his axe up, arms heavy with quickly returning fatigue, yet unwilling to give up easily.
Every sense of his is tuned to the man in front of him, and his heart seems to slow down to a crawl as his mind rushes through every scenario it can come up with, every possible ending that isn’t a painful death in fire.
“But I think I’d like to have the last word anyway,” the hunter says, giggling as he takes another step forward.
It turns into a gasp when Dream’s axe hits his stomach.
Dream takes the opening, jumping forward and grasping the hunter's waist with his arms. A cry of pain echoes through the cave as they hit the ground, and warm breath brushes past Dream's ear, sending shivers down his back.
There’s a tick where neither of them moves and then Dream feels the hunter kick at the ground, struggling to either push Dream off or twist them around. Still, despite his erratic moves, the adrenaline helps Dream keep his grip steady.
“Fuck,” the hunter groans and cries out again, as Dream jabs his elbow into his ribs, both of his knees squeezing the hunter’s torso. He jerks upwards a few more times, before tensing up and going still.
"Ah, Dream, I must admit," the hunter pants out between pained gasps and weak giggles. "You’re always your best when you’re desperate."
"Oh my God, just shut the hell up," Dream groans and rears back before slamming his forehead into the hunter's face.
He yelps in pain, hands flying up to his mangled, bleeding nose.
It takes a moment for both of them to realize he'd dropped his sword, world pausing for a second and then erupting into a struggle again.
Dream takes the risk and lets go, rolling to his left where the tool lays. He smiles triumphantly as his hand wraps around the hilt, already ready to leap to his feet.
Then the hunter crashes into his back, a knee forcefully jamming into the small of Dream’s back, forcing his entire body to the floor. His arm twists uncomfortably where it's still gripping the sword.
"This is going to end right now," the hunter hisses into his ear, his hair brushing against Dream's skin. A warm drop of blood falls on the side of Dream's face and rolls down his cheek.
"Like hell," Dream replies, tightening up his muscles and thrusting his body upwards. The hunter doesn't let up, legs winding around Dream's waist. Before Dream can move again, he wraps one of his arms in a tight hold around Dream's neck, cutting off his air, while the other grips the sword just above Dream's hand, pulling and turning its pointy end towards his stomach.
Dream rears backwards again, grabbing the hunter's chokehold with his free hand. He struggles as much as he can, swaying them to the sides, and forcing the hunter to drop the sword so he can keep his grip on Dream.
Time is ticking out, however, and Dream can feel his lungs constricting, begging for air as the hunter doesn’t relax his crushing hold. His eyesight goes blurry and darkness creeps in at the edges. His body screams out in agony and in a last, desperate attempt, Dream drops the sword too and digs his nails into the hunter's skin.
He can feel them piercing skin, can feel the blood slicking up his grip, but despite the pain his opponent doesn't let up. Using his weight, he presses Dream down to the floor, and shoves one of his knees into the wound in Dream's side.
The movement makes Dream gasp out the rest of his breath, and he throws his body to the side one last time, but the hunter on his back feels like a pile of stones crushing him to pieces.
It might be just the lack of oxygen scrambling up his brain, but before Dream loses the fight with the darkness, he swears he hears George whisper I’m sorry.