Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"White flags!" His voice echoed through the mostly empty field. "White flags, outside your base, by tomorrow at dawn, or-!".

Dream stops. 

He knows this words, he said them once. He remembers just fine how those words brought war and pain to his server. He remembers the expression Wilbur and Tommy had at the time, and how Sapnap and George cheered at his decision.

(He also remembers how he started losing himself. How he got filled with hate and grief and pain and how he used those feelings with the hope of saving everyone from further destruction and how he *failed *miserably.)

"Dream?" Sapnap asks, just to his right.

He freezes for a second.

(He remembers fights, and screaming, and threats. He remembers how it was before the fall of L'manburg, and how it was after it. He remembers the visit to his prison and he remembers-... 

Sapnap voice remembers him of so many thigs. 

Sadly, most of them just make him feel sick)

"Dream, are you okey?".

This time is George who asks him.

(His body was bloody and destroyed last time Dream saw him. He wasn't breathing, and oh, wasn't it ironic? Everything he did was to protect his friends, to protect George, and there he was, dead, nothing no one could've done).

"I'm fine," he answers softly, thankful for the mask that covers his grim expression. "I'm fine, i just... i took a decision."

Tommy and Wilbur frown, their positions lowering onto a defense stance, silent.

"No need to do that," Dream waves his hand, faking disinterest. "Wilbur, I'll allow you to built L'manburg".

"What?!" several voices scream at once.

They don't notice how Dream tenses at the loud noise. They don't notice how he slowly walks onto an open area. No one ever does, and this time, Dream is thankful for that.

"Yeah. I just... I considered, and... I think it's the better option. You two won't stop until your little nation is up, and I really, really don't care enough about this issue to start a war." He actually did. Part of him was mad that he had to let all of this go, but it was truly for the better.

He didn't have the time to care about Wilbur's dumb obsession with doing drugs and starting problem. There wasn't enough time. He had to focus on fixing everything.

"The fuck do you mean you don't give a fuck about this?"

Part of him missed that noise. Tommy being a kid, screaming, making chaos. 

(The other, smaller part, just wanted him to shut up. He was so annoying. Wasn't most of the destruction on the Smp his fault? Didn't Tommy lie, and stole and broke everything and tried to kill innocent people over his own, egoistic desires?

Didn't Dream do the same?)

"Just that. I have more important things to do. I stopped doing important stuff to come here."

"This is important, you asshole!"

"Tommy," Wilbur warns.

"No, no, let him speak, Wilbur".

The brown-haired man looks at him with silent fury, but doesn't speak again. 

(Once, they were friends. When the other man wasn't looking for trouble, and to steal everyone's things to monopolize potions. When he didn't use his brother and his friends and his son to fight for a nation that was built in lies.

They used to sing together, and fool around, and be friends.

But no matter how early they are. It doesn't matter that there are years in between that day and this day. Some time in the future, the same eyes that watched him with fury will one day be filled with insanity).

"I don't know what the fuck it's going through your tiny American brain, but you're not taking this seriously! If you're taking this as a fucking joke-"

"I assure you I'm not," he interrupted Tommy. "I'm dead serious. I'll give you a delimited zone, but besides that, you're free to start your nation. We will sign some treaties so the members of the Smp won't try to attack you, and you will have to allow everyone in your city. Other than that-"

"Why?" Wilbur asks softly, confused. Angry. "You were ready to tell us to give up or you'd kill us. Why are you suddenly... So..." Wilbur doesn't finish his question, instead choosing to shake his hand, gesturing at him.

Obviously, Dream can't tell him the truth. He can't tell him that he came from the future to fix everything they've fucked up. to fix the destruction and death, and the ultimate ascending of the egg. 

So he settles for something simpler.

"Like i said. I have more important things to do than start a war with you over a city. You may do whatever your heart desires with your city. It will not be my problem anymore. As long as you don't cause trouble on the Dream Smp zone, i really don't care what you do."

There's silence. The wind blows in a way Dream hadn't felt in what feels like years. The sun felt warm, even through his green hoodie. Wilbur opens his mouth to speak, and Dream lifts his hand, silencing him.

"Whatever it is, we we'll talk about it when we sign the documents. You have one week to bring everything to-" He stops.

To where? 

He doesn't exactly have a house, and it's been long since this day happened on his original timeline. 

So where would he direct Wilbur to?

"The community house," Sapnap answers for him.

Sapnap doesn't look happy, but he looks willing to listen to him. 

(And wasn't that the first time in years Dream had seen Sapnap willing to listen?). 

The raven haired smiled slightly at him, and then looked back at Wilbur.

"The community house has always been neutral grounds, so if you're gonna sign peace treaties, it might as well be there."

Dream nods, relieved for the moment.

"Then it's settled," he claps his hands and keep them together. "In a week we will reunite at the community house, and there, we will sign L'manburg independence papers and some peace treaties. Are we on the same page?"

For a few seconds, no one answers. He can feel the panic rising, all his worries floating on his mind without mercy, making him wonder if he had already fucked up the entire mission. Then, when he is about to start running in an attempt to escape from the future, Wilbur speaks.

"Fine. Yeah. We're on the same page. Next week, same hour at the community house, right?"

"I... yeah."

"Good. Then we'll be there. Until then, Dream."

"See you then, Wilbur."

"Let's go, Tommy."

The blond boy glares at him, huffs, and walks away, in front of Wilbur, who glances at the Dream Team (and oh, yeah, George and Sapnap are there too), and then follows his brother.

Dream can finally breath.

"So, what was that about?"

Or not.

"What?" He asks, as if he didn't know what he just did.

"All that!" George exclaims, annoyed. "First you're telling them to stand back and suddenly you just, stopped!"

"Yeah. I thought the plan was forcing their hand into stopping all this non-sense!"

"That was the plan, but i changed my mind."

"We noticed! What the hell, Dream?"

(His mind goes somewhere else. To another place, to another time. Sapnap screams the exact same thing when he sees him alive.

"What the hell, Dream?!" Sapnap is furious. "How are you still alive?! I stabbed you, you bastard! You were supposed to die!"

And Dream isn't sure it it's about him escaping the prison or him trying to stop the corruption that the egg brought, but at this point, it's not really important. What IS important is trying to stop his corrupted friend from stabbing him again.)

His breath hitches. 

Logically he knows his friends are different in this time. He knows that they're not mad, that they're not angry. That their shouting is mostly confusion at the sudden change of heart he just had. But something dark fills his mind, terrible memories flashing through his eyes like a camera roll, and despite knowing, he can't get his body to agree.

"Dream...?" George asks, worried, probably noticing his reaction.

He winced slightly at the sound, but played off as if he was turning away from them. "Sorry for the surprise. I wasn't joking, though. I do have better things to do, i can't risk starting a war with Wilbur over something like this."

"Okey, fine, but what about his drug empire?"

"He stole some stuff. Are we gonna let him, just, get away with it?"

"Wh- no! I'm- this is what the whole thing about the treaties is for. I already have this planed. But i really have stuff to do, so-"

"You keep talking about having something to do. Dream, you just came back to the mainland. Shouldn't you rest?"

He sighs. "I came back because you called me. And don't get me wrong, I'm thankful. We really needed to talk to Wilbur about this. But there's something important and... I really need to focus on this."

He can feel the disappointment on (who used to be) his friends, but they nod.

"So? What are we doing now?" Sapnap asked. "Are you at least gonna stay the night?"

"I..."

He honestly doesn't want to. 

To be fair, last time he was anywhere near Sapnap, it became a manhunt game, except there was nowhere to go, and he always got stabbed. 

Last time he saw George, it wasn't even George. Just a bloody mash on the ground.

And what if he saw Bad?

(Bad, who was one of his bests friends. Bad, who always helped him, and supported him, and protected him. Bad who had begged the egg for forgiveness for Dream even after the whole "kidnapping Skeppy for the collection" fiasco. Bad who had stood against him when Dream rose up and fought against the eggpire on his last days, who was merciless and who killed-).

Dream pressed his own stomach with his hands.

"Maybe. I... I don't know yet. I have to do some stuff on the Smp anyways, so I'll stay for the next week. But I don't know if I'll have time to catch a break."

Sapnap made a sad expression. "Oh.. okey." Then he smiled. "Well, that's better than nothing. At least we get to see you around!"

"Yeah," George said, unconvinced. "Dream, if you need help with anything- well. You know we're here, right?"

"Yeah." He lied.

If they noticed, they didn't say a thing, and Dream was okay with that.

Chapter Text

It's Ranboo who gets him out. 

Actually, It's Ranboo and Karl, but it's Ranboo who does most of the work, breaking the code and allowing him to respawn outside of the prison.

He discovers a few weeks later that the Sam is dead and that's why the prison wasn't as difficult to escape as it was meant to be. He didn't know at the time. How could he? The automatized potato system had helped so much Sam didn't even need to go see Dream, and since the crying obsidian is all over the place stopping any attempt of escaping he might have, there wasn't anything Sam had to worry about. 

The clocks stopped coming way before any sign of chaos started to worry the citizens of the Smp. Tommy stopped coming right after the incident where he got stuck on Dream's cells for a week. Actually, everyone stopped going after that. Even Bad. 

So there wasn't any way for Dream to learn about what had happened.

It's only when Philza explains the whole thing that he understands the severity of the situation. 

And god, doesn't it hurts? He gave everything up, his friends, his family, his ideals and morals, everything to stop the egg from spreading, to make Tommy strong enough to stop that goddamn egg... and it failed.

The resistance it's small. Puffy, who looks at him with distrust and fury, Philza, who is formal with him but clearly dislikes him, Ranboo, who is terrified of him because of the voices, Techno, who is in neutral terms with him, and Karl, who surprisingly it's the only one that's friendly with him.

The rest is either dead or corrupted.

He knows, he saw. He saw the red vines controlling Sapnap and Eret, and Tubbo, and Jack, Nikki, Foolish, Purpled. 

He also saw George's body. And Quackity's. 

And Tommy's.

Tommy had been alive when he got out of prison. He knows because, despite not being allowed anywhere near him, Technoblade wouldn't stop whining about having to keep him alive. That was until the raid, where Tommy leaded the small resistance into the eggpire fortress. Unfortunately, after the raid, Techno had nothing to whine about. 

Bad had made sure of it.

It was a Monday when the resistance fell. 

It wasn't even morning when explosions started to echo through the empty halls of the base they had set up. 

Puffy and Philza told them to run, mostly to Ranboo. They didn't trust him to stay with the half enderman, so he was dragged to the fight. He saw as Techno ran away, taking as many stuff as he could, Ranboo following him just behind. Karl was nowhere to be seen, and it suddenly felt like that day on the underground vault. The server against him.

If Puffy and Philza hadn't been there, he would've died quickly, submerged on a panic attack while the infected people did to him what they deemed fair. 

But Puffy and Philza WERE there, and so he had the strength to fight back, to defend himself and his team. 

For a moment, it reminded him of the Dream Team. It felt as if George (Puffy) covered his back and announced him of an incoming attack as Sapnap (Phil) did massive damage with his fire (wings). For a moment, he felt like that old Dream he had buried deep inside himself to force everyone to unionize against a common threat. For a moment, he felt like maybe he wasn't far too lost to be saved.

And then the explosion happened.

He doesn't understand why they do it, but the only thing that remains from his two companions it's blood and flesh. He takes too long to recover, to wake up, but even if he hadn't fallen unconscious on the first place, the fact the two people who fought by his side used their own bodies to shield him from the explosion. It was too late to save them from the moment the TNT was set off.

Techno finds him. The piglin hybrid has a broken arm, but he's okey and safe. He is also furious. Furious that Phil is dead. Furious that he gave up his life for Dream.

At the end of that same day, only him, Ranboo and Karl were still  together.

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Once he got far away from George and Sapnap, he started to walk. 

There wasn't anywhere he wanted to go. Yes, he had a lot of things to do, but not everything had to be done at the moment, he had an entire week to do whatever he had to prepare on the mainland before parting ways and starting the mission to destroy the Egg.

Or like Karl liked to call it, "The omelet mission".

For starters, he had to bring Techno sooner, because his strength was a great ally. 

(He also misses him as a friend, a partner, but after the way the other hybrid looked at him...) 

(Maybe it's for the better he refers at the piglin as an ally at best).

He had to control the Badlands too, maybe that would slow down the egg's expansion.

"Dream".

He recognizes the voice. His hand flies to the borders of the hoodie, grabbing them until his knuckles go white. He shifts his stance so he can look back, ready to run. There, a tired face welcomes him with a smile.

"Karl?"

It is him. 

Not his Karl, he can recognize, because his Karl had both arms when they were performing the travel in the In Between, but it is a Karl nonetheless. He can feel his eyes water under the mask.

"Karl... you..."

"As you can see, I'm a Karl from... a little further into the timeline you came from," the brown haired nods as his own lack of right arm. "But, yeah, it is me".

Dream gives a small step towards him.

"What... what happened? What is the future like?"

Karl's smile disappears, and slowly comes back. "It's terrible, but some things are already better. Things are changing quickly. Not enough for the timeline to be fixed, but enough that some things already changed."

"Like?" he asks.

"Wilbur is still alive in this one. Corrupted, angry, and a complete deranged murderer, but he is alive. Puffy survived the explosion, although... well. Anyways."

Dream frowns. He relaxes, now that he is sure he is in front of someone he can trust.

"So almost nothing..."

Karl shakes his head in a no. "You think like that because you're thinking like this is about the big thing, about the whole timeline, but you're wrong, Dream. Small changes like that create big changes like, this."

Karl appears a book out of apparent thin air. The name in the title is "Tales of the Smp, the city of Mizu". He hands it to Dream, who knows perfectly the story that should be written within the pages of the book, except... 

Except it changes. It doesn't end in murder, but understanding, and forgiveness, and change.

"My memories are already getting altered with the change of history. Dream, if you keep this up, we might be able to save the whole timeline!" Karl says excitedly.

Dream nods. That does sounds good.

"And... and Ranboo?"

The question brings silence. The surroundings suddenly start to close up with tension.

"He... they haven't found him. He's safe, but..."

Dream knows what goes after that 'but', but Karl still finishes the sentence.

"I don't think he is waking up. Not in that future, Dream".

One again, he nods, only this time it feels more like a programmed answer to the sudden revelation Karl throws at him. Karl smiles.

"You're doing great, and it has only been a few hours. Dream, i believe in you. I know you can fix this."

Dream doesn't. He messed everything up last time, so how could he fix everything he ruined and more? He still smiles, because he owes at least that much to his friend.

"I have to go," Karl says, looking at a clock in his hand that was spinning wildly. "Staying here will probably mess up the timeline. Oh, and... Dream?"

"Yeah?"

Karl extends his hand to him. He blinks, extending his, too, and Karl drops something on his palm. It's a necklace, a really pretty one that has Karl's spiral as the pendant. It's pretty.

"This will both protect you and your memories from time breaks."

"From... what?"

"Oh oh." Karl's face drains of color in seconds. "Please tell me i DID tell you about the time breaks."

"I don't think you did."

The contrary facepalms, as a portal appears behind him.

"This isn't good. Oh no, oh."

"Karl? Karl what's-"

"Listen, Dream. Time Breaks are dangerous. I really have to go but- as soon as energy recharges, i should come back to see you. It might not be me, me. But one me will come and you have to ask them about the time breaks. It's important. No- It's imperative you do!"

"But then why don't you just tell me-?"

Karl opens his mouth to speak, but it's late. The portal sucks him like a swirl, and then he's gone, lights and everything going with him.

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It's almost night when he reaches the community house.

Honestly, he does choke up when he sees it. 

He knows someone rebuilt it while he was in prison, but he also knows it was blown up once again during the Neutral Zone Take Over. 

After he made his personal mission to make everyone hate him, the only time he saw the building complete was just before destroying it himself.

But there it is, standing tall, almost new, both the creation and its inhabitants oblivious to the future it will have. (It had? It won't have? Does it matter at this point? Time travel is weird).

He gulps as he stands over the bridge. His breath hitches as he stands in front of the door, his mind stops working when the door opens in front of him (and he can't even remember opening it himself). Everyone inside stop what they're doing, and look at him.

Everyone is of course just Sapnap and George.

"Oh, hey Dream. You're back!"

Well, he didn't have anywhere else to go, so.

"I mean, this is technically our house. You can always come here," George frowned.

Oh. He said that out loud.

"I know, i know. I was just... I have some stuff to think about, and some sh- uh. things."

"We know, Dream, you said that like, nine times already." Sapnap grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah. You okey Dream? You've been acting weird".

"And, you know, it'd make sense if it had been from the moment you came back, but you had a sudden change during our talk with Wilbur. Did something happen?"

Yeah, the whole future. 

He blinks. He DIDN'T say that out loud. That was good.

"No. I'm just worried. I found something while I was outside the mainland, and I have to go back soon."

"So you just suddenly remembered something and panicked?"

"Something like that," he sighs, walking to a chair and sitting there. "Look, it's not important enough you have to worry about that, I promise."

"If you say so."

He winces as his two companions turn back to what they were doing before he entered the place. 

He looks around. It feels... weird. Really weird. Almost like a dream, or maybe even a nightmare. His heart twitches painfully as he remembers the last day this building stood on his timeline. As he remembers filling everything with TNT, and as he remembers standing far away while the sound of explosions and the heat of the fire made a terrifying symphony behind him.

He wonders what could've been if he had just let the place be. He wonders if Sapnap would've forgiven him after all. 

He looks at Sapnap's back while the raven haired teen hits a punching bag with excitement.

He hopes Sapnap wouldn't have forgiven him, because he doesn't deserve it.

Chapter Text

A day on the base was... Sad, actually.

It was no one's fault. The distrust was palpable. Before Tommy's death, he wasn't even allowed to go out of his room unless he had been ordered something specific. Karl would give him food and water, and that was it. It almost felt like he was still prisoner on Pandora's Vault, but he was actually comfortable and has someone to talk to. 

And, Techno would sometimes drag him to the training room to spar, but it was rare.

After the failed raid, sparring with Techno became a daily thing, but it usually ended up with one or both of them knocked out or severely injured, so after a while, they had to stop. 

He was also allowed to roam around the base as long as someone was with him. Usually Karl would accompany him. It was considerably nice, really.

When the eggpire found them, they had to run away. 

Leaving everything behind wasn't a nice experience, but as everything burned, he had no other choice but drag his feet along the way. 

The next days were a nightmare to say the least, because from the six people that lived together for almost a year, only three remained. 

(They didn't speak about the forth one. He accompanied them, but he wasn't alive. He wasn't present. His eyes empty, his stance tired.

They all mourned during the next morning, when the only thing left from the piglin hybrid was a tattered cape and supplies. Karl patted the distressed Enderman hybrid as he cried and screamed. 

There wasn't an actual body. No blood, no fighting. The fact that they had the cape told them that it wasn't Techno leaving them to fight for himself, either. 

There weren't any signs of Technoblade dying, if he even could die. But the lack of explanation, the lack of clues, the sudden banishment.

Technoblade never died, but with how he disappeared, he might as well have).

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When Dream woke up the third day, he decided he had already wasted too much time.

Maybe not wasted, considering he had been reuniting materials for his plans, but he had used far more time than he had intended. The week wasn't eternal. Almost half of it had already passed, and he didn't have everything he needed yet.

As far as plans went... his wasn't developed. At all. 

He knew what he had to do, but he had always been more of improvising and doing things last moment instead of actually preparing. And of course he could make plans! He had planned his entire downfall after all! 

Of course, he had been stuck for far longer than he wanted in Pandora's Vault, but those are details. The important thing is that his plan went well. That's it. Whatever else happened after that doesn't really count. (The countless nights without sleeping, the malnutrition, and nightmares, and trauma? Details. That's what he deserved, anyways, so who cares?).

He has some materials for the containment of himself should the Dreamon thing happen. He remembers the egg from way back, hundreds of years before the funding of the Smp, but he doesn't remember the origin. What came before the egg? He remembers that the seal breaks after the Dreamon breached his defenses, so if he can stop the Dreamon from possessing him, he might stop the invasion from happening. Then again, that hadn't stopped the egg from expanding in the old days. 

First, he had to stop Bad from finding the egg, or stop the egg from manipulating Bad. Maybe if he protected Skeppy for turning into red, he could force Bad into giving the egg up should the first plan fail. (He felt guilty. He cared about Skeppy even if they weren't that close, and thinking of him like leverage against Bad felt bad. He didn't want to do that again; he didn't want to think like that again).  

Then, he should probably try to win Wilbur's trust. He had to de-escalate the situation for the elections, maybe try to stop Schlatt and Quackity from winning. 

And of course, he had to bring Technoblade as soon as possible. If he convinced the Piglin Hybrid to help him, he would win the perfect ally. (Maybe he could even fix the relationship he had once broken, in a different time).

He cracked his shoulders and back, instantly relaxing.

Staying up the tree he slept at last night during his whole wasn't a good idea.

"Hey Dream!!" Bad voice echoed.

Dream froze. 

He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready for this. He was the farthest away from ready right now.

("*Ranboo, Dream, when you two start to get anxious, remember to breath. Focus on the things around you. Find 3 things you can see. Then find two things you can touch. End with one thing you can smell. Focus on those things, let them ground you back into reality*")

He can see the leaf falling just in front of his face, and a bird chirping at it's eggs, and a branch of the tree he was in that's slowly waving with the flow of the air. 

"Oh! there you are, Dream!"

("*There you are, Dream! We finally found you! Oh, it's been so long, my friend. Far too long!! You can finally join us and the egg!!*")

"Can you come down? I need to talk to you!"

"Uh-" he choked up in air. "I... yeah. I'll be down. Just... just give me a second, Bad."

"Sure!"

He can touch the wood, and it feels rough under his hands. He can also feel his hoodie, (clean of any blood, soft, barely some scratches on the cloth, something he hadn't felt in years now). 

He can smell... muffins? 

He smiles softly, relaxed, back in the present. (Future Bad smelt like blood most of the time, a side effect of the egg's control on people. He remembers also following Sir Billiam, covering the place natural odor with expensive incense before he had run away after being discovered as a traitor. It probably had to do with the fact that the followers of the egg always were driven into murdering whoever they could as a sacrifice to the egg, but you know, it could be anything at this point).

Then he jumps down. 

It's beautiful. After being in prison for so long, his future self couldn't do parkour anymore, because his body had become stiff and weak from the malnutrition and the lack of exercise. Afterwards he trained again with Techno's help, but it had never been the same. His body just wasn't used to the constant movement anymore, no matter how long he spent sparring and running. 

But his old body, the one he was using at the moment, it felt so... alive. It was obvious he had spent hours running and fighting and just... living. It felt amazing.

"Dream! It's nice seeing you. You were away from quite some time!"

Bad voice is the thing that drags him back to reality after a few seconds of zoning out, thinking of things that hadn't happen yet. (Things he can't allow to happen ever).

"Hey Bad. Long time no see".

Bad nods excitedly.

"I'm so glad you're back! Are you staying for a while?"

Bad carries a basket, probably filled with the muffins he had identified earlier. He also looks colorful, at least when compared with the cult leader from the future. 

It was nice, seeing this Bad again. 

"I don't know," he admits, slightly sheepish. "I have to stay here and recollect some things before this Saturday, after that, i will maybe go to the outside lands. I left some things unattended to come."

He actually didn't even remember what he was doing at the time. Probably exploring for materials. It wasn't as important... he hopes.

"Oh," Bad mumbled in a soft and slightly disappointed voice, and then jumped a little, smiling. "Well, then we better do something together before you go! I would love to do some muffins with you again!"

Dream wonders, how could the egg corrupt this? How can someone so nice and gentle be transformed in such a blood thirsty murderer? 

Dream knows the answer. He doesn't like it.

"Sounds nice. I have like, three more days. You busy?"

Bad shook his head. "Nope. I might be building my house with Skeppy, but you call me whenever and I'll catch you at the community house!"

"Then it's settled. Sometime during this week we're baking some fucking awesome muffins".

"Language!!"

Dream giggles, satisfied with Bad's reaction.

"Oh, here, by the way," Bad says before turning to a side, searching in his inventory. He finds something and makes it appear, grabbing it softly. A big piece of cloth, folded like a blanket. "I found this a few days ago in a mineshaft we found near our lands. It's almost the same green as your hoodie, so i thought you might like it."

Bad hands him the cloth, and he unfolds him. It's a poncho. The fabric it's really soft to the touch, yet it's clearly durable and... it's really pretty.

"I... Thanks, Bad. It's really nice." He chokes up.

"Hehe! I knew you would like it!". Bad closed his inventory, and turned around, still looking at Dream. "Well, i have to go for now. See you soon, Dream!!".

("See you soon, Dream," Bad says, smiling, looking at him with blank and dangerous eyes. "May you find your way back to us soon." The man shakes the blood off of his clothes, smudging it even more.)

Then he is out of sight, lost behind several trees. 

He looks at the poncho, (his hands trembling, his mind yelling at the sudden memory, his breathing quickly rising), unable to decide between burning it or using it. He wishes Ranboo or Karl were here, because they would probably help him choose, but they're not. And so this is his responsibility. 

(It shouldn't be that hard. It's something so dumb. It's definitely nothing like the choices he had already done, or like the actions he had already taken; like burning L'manburg to the ground, or stealing important things from the people that lived in the server, or even like threatening to kill Tubbo right in front of Tommy. It was just a Poncho).

(A Poncho given to him by a murderer. By a cultist).

(By Bad, his friend, an innocent person who was yet to be corrupted, and that was nothing like the crazy man from the future).

(He did it. He corrupted everyone. He killed everyone. He killed-).

(It was just Bad. Good old BadBoyHalo).

(Everything, everyone. Even the Last Ones Standing had already fell to Bad's power).

He keeps it. Maybe it'll come handy later.

\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_

It's Saturday.

The week had been... interesting. 

He evades the community house as much as he can, generally sleeping on the trees, keeping ward, staying alert. He wants to trust Wilbur, and he wants to think they wouldn't attack while they were working off L'manburg's independence, but Dream had already seen the actions of the musician, and what he could and WOULD do to get what he wants. 

What? He, trying to avoid George and Sapnap? Of course not! He was a busy man, after all. The sole protector of the Smp, guardian. He had already failed once. He can't fail again. That's the only reason as to why he is staying away from social interaction. Of course this isn't trauma maintaining him away from the dream team in an attempt to keep the terrifying memories away! Nope, nuh uh, nain, nada, non, not at all.

And he did spend time with them! he had helped them make some muffins with Bad just a day ago! And they would accompany him during the L'manburg negotiation.

And oh, god, that was today.

...Had he set an hour? How desperate would Wilbur be? How early would he be at the community house? It was actually kind of late. A few minutes after noon. He had spent an entire week thinking about this and he had completely forgotten. He was in so much trouble.

He sprinted, running on a branch, using the momentum to jump into another, and pushing himself onto another, and another. After a few minutes of running and jumping, the clearing where the house stood became visible. One more jump, and he rolled on the ground, landing securely. Some noise came from the front, and on the bridge, he could see Wilbur and Tommy facing George and Sapnap. They were clearly bickering; he could hear them from his position.

He slowly stood, and walked over there. He wasn't making a single sound, not even when he reached the wood floor of the bridge.

"I already told you, Wilbur, we don't know where Dream is".

"He said we would meet today! This is bullshit!"

"Well, he is not here, and you have to wait until he gets back!"

"We have things to do. We can't stay here all day."

"Well, maybe if you had been earlier, you would've found him. It's past noon already. He probably came for breakfast, got bored because you didn't arrive, and left".

"We said we would meet at the same hour we met during the confrontation. Which is about this hour"

"Yeah! If he was the dumbass that kept waiting, then it isn't out fucking fault he is so stupid!"

"ehem," he faked cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention. "I'm here".

George and Sapnap instantly relaxed, while Wilbur and Tommy tensed even more, turning half around, enough to see him, not enough to stop looking at the rest of the team.

"Sorry I'm a little late, i had some stuff to do last night and i overslept a little. But I'm here".

"Yes, I see that"

"You kept us waiting! So goddamn irresponsible, Dream! We have shit to do too!"

"Tommy. Shut up." Wilbur sighed.

Dream smiled slightly under his mask. 

Then he started walking towards them. Actually, he wanted to go inside the house, but the position of both brothers quickly shifted into a defense stand. Dream stopped. (Tommy stance was the exact same one the kid had used when they were surrounded by the egg's followers, the difference created by experience barely noticeable. It seems some things never change. He hopes most do, tho).

"Uh, i know we are on bad terms, but we did come to the community house because it's neutral grounds. So... are you gonna stay like this? Or are we going in? Because I'm sure there are lots of things to sign, and it's gonna be uncomfortable without a table".

"Oh," Wilbur realizes, slightly relaxing. "Yeah, you're right. Let's go".

Dream gets ahead of the rest, entering the house, taking a deep breath to regulate his breathing, (running around was tiring, after all). (Or maybe it was from seeing Tommy again? So young, so excited, so alive. He hadn't had time to look at him the first time, he had barely registered he was even there, trying to de-escalate the situation as quick as possible). He hears Wilbur and Tommy entering right behind, and after them, Sapnap and George.

"Well? What are we waiting for?"

Wilbur takes two books from his inventory. Two, very big books. Dream kinda regrets letting him go wild, but...

"Here. This is the declaration of independence," Wilbur hands him that one first, "And these are our part of the treaties."

Dream takes both. He starts skimming through the pages, nodding at some things, and frowning at others.

"We might need to correct some things," Dream mutters, then looks at Wilbur. "But overall, it's okay. I just have one thing. Like... a little favor? I mean, it's not a favor, you have to do it if you want L'manburg up, but-"

"Just tell me."

He presses his lips into a firm line, and then speaks, determined. "No walls."

Wilbur blinks, confused. "No... Walls?"

"Wilbur, you are an amazing person, despite your... tendencies, and choices. I know the real reason you're doing this. I think everyone in this place knows, minus Tommy-"

"Hey! The fuck does that mean, you bastard-!"

"-But. You're rising an entire nation on the name of freedom and comradery. I will let you," He appears a few papers from his inventory, handing them to Wilbur. "But i want you to honor the reason you're saying you're doing this for.

"If," Dream continues, "you start L'manburg, you have to allow everyone to join in. I understand if later you ban certain, problematic people, but there has to be a valid reason, and a fair trial for that to happen. And you can do actual walls to protect the place if you want, the 'no walls' thing is more metaphoric. Also, no stealing. You can do whatever you want inside L'manburg zone, i don't care about your drugs while you're in there. But if you take things of the people from the Dream Smp land, or monopolize any material, then you'll be breaking our treaties, and I will retaliate with force. Are we clear?"

Wilbur doesn't answer for a few seconds, sighs, and then nods. "Clear."

Dream smiles. "Then," he takes a Gapple from his inventory, and hands it to Wilbur. "For L'manburg, a rising nation. I hope you and your people will rise above their station. Good luck, Wilbur."

He looks at Tommy. 

His throat closes, the panic setting on his chest as the kid looks at him annoyed, a memory of those eyes, devoid of life, tired, broken. (Dead). 

But it's not like that. The blue eyes look at him brightly, fire and determination in them/

"Good luck, Tommy".

He signs the papers, and after a few minutes of talking, they leave.

The next day, the construction of L'manburg starts.

Chapter Text

After his escape from prison, he spends lots of time on the base. In a middle sized room, empty besides a bed, a closet, a desk with some stuff for writing, and a bathroom.
He hears Tommy screaming around, and Ranboo teleporting. Puffy comes to see his condition once or twice a week, and Philza visits him at random times to bring him books and to explain the outside situation.

He isn’t actually trapped in the room. He tried the door several times, and it had been permanently unlocked after his first month in the base, but it was an unspoken rule that he wasn’t allowed outside, and the only reason he knew that, was because both (older) adults always seemed hesitant of leaving him alone, as if they were doubting his ability to stay out of trouble.
He also knows it’s mostly because of the younger members of the Pro-Omelet resistance, because he doesn’t see Tommy once for nine entire months. (A full year, actually, but that was yet to happen).

He sees Ranboo, who isn’t traumatized enough to have an entire set up so he doesn’t have to look at Dream. Still, they don’t talk. Dream doesn’t want to bother him, and Ranboo is terrified of him. He recognizes the mark of the voices calling him, of The End asking to be let free, and the higher beings using the poor boy for their bidding. The poor hybrid it’s dealing with enough. He shouldn’t be the one to worsen his load.

Techno visits him from time to time. They don’t speak a lot, communicating mostly by gestures. When they do speak, it’s friendly banter, but they never do it for long. Techno is the only one who allows him to go out, but it’s only by literally dragging him into a big, open room where they spar and practice until Dream can’t move anymore.
They aren’t rivals anymore, mostly because Dream is just too weak after almost a full year of prison to actually fight back. It’s more like, Techno re-teaching Dream how to fight, and Dream is thankful. His old habits still stick, and he learns a combination of his past fighting style, plus the new, rawer and focused on balance style that Techno uses.

Karl he sees almost every day. He makes sure to bring him food, water, and general supplies. He stays until late talking with him, brings random board games. He never explains why, and he always deflects when Dream asks. And after a while, Dream stops questioning it. He accepts it, and lives like that, and they become friends.
They talk about the weather that they can’t feel or see underground. They tell painful but beautiful memories of the times before the egg.
That’s when Dream learns of the powers Karl holds.

It’s an accident, actually, when instead of ‘Dream’, Karl calls him Cornelius, a name he hadn’t heard in centuries. A name that was supposed to be buried on the same grounds he had buried his town. Buried under more and bigger failures he had made.

He refuses to speak to Karl for a week, but when he calms down, Karl tells him everything.

“Dream, I’ve met you thousands of times in thousands of different lives, I remember you as Cornelius. I hear of you as Hubert. I listened your adventures when you took a mantle as Dominic, and when you were the mysterious hero of the Garfee town. I was there, just… Not as Karl.”

It makes sense, and it doesn’t.
He doesn’t believes at first, but seeing the diaries it’s enough proof to make him trust Karl.

“Then why would you tell me this?” He asks, genuinely confused. “If you’ve seen my mistakes, the people i failed to protect, my fall from grace, my descent into madness, why would you tell me something so important?”

It takes a few seconds, but Karl starts laughing.

“Dream, you are not a bad person. You’ve never been one.”

He blinks, flinching as if he had been struck.

“To be honest, i don’t know why you made the choices you made recently. I don’t know what led you astray from the path you chose from the start, but i do know that there’s a reason. It’s not a justification, you’re a terrible person and what you did to Tommy sucked. But… I know there’s a reason.”

He hesitates, but he takes his mask off, letting Karl see his face filled with tears, he walks to the time traveler, hugs him, and he does something he hadn’t done in his really long life.
He talks, explaining himself.

And Karl does something even more surprising; he listens to Dream.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

“So you’re really not staying,” Sapnap mutters in disappointment. “Come on Dream! We haven’t see you in weeks! Can’t you stay just a little longer? We could do something cool! Like go to the nether, or make a farm, or, i don’t know!”

He feels guilty, looking at his teammates reaction, but he truly can’t stay any longer.
Mostly for his mental health.
Actually, specifically for his mental health. He loves them, a lot. But he knows how things are gonna end.

(Because it’s always like that. He knows, he has seen it. He has seen towns, and cities, and kingdoms, all rise, and all fall, either by his hand or by others. He knows people betrays, and kills, and abandons. And he knows George and Sapnap are no different because he HAS seen it. How George misunderstands his attempts at protecting him. How Sapnap grows to be resentful of Dream to the point of thinking Dream is past saving, to the point of actually hating him. It’s always like that).

“I’m sorry, Sap. But i don’t have a lot of time. I really need to fix some things near the border.”

“What about L’manburg then? Are you gonna let them build up freely? What if they go outside their zone?”

“I asked Punz to stay vigilant of them. He and Purpled will step in if anybody tries something funny.”

George pouts. Actually, Sapnap does too. Dream laughs softly. He missed this. It’s almost like before-…

“Okey, listen,” He says, getting their attention. “I really do have to go for the week, but when i come back, we can do something together. You two chose, i won’t even complain… a lot.”

The two smile slightly, and nod.

“But George can’t choose. He will probably say something like sleeping the whole day, or something”.

“I will not!”

“Will too!”

“Will not”

“Will too!”

“Will-! ugh! even if i did, and i would totally not, sleeping would be far better than choosing something like burning some trees.”

“Hey! I suggested going to the nether.”

“Well, we could go search for a mushroom biome, and-”

He loves this, so much. It’s almost like it was before L’manburg.
He kind of wishes he wasn’t absolutely terrified of them, because maybe if he weren’t…

“Well, then… see you soon, guys.”

Both stop their bickering, turning to Dream. Sapnap jumps at him, hugging him tightly. George sheepishly smiles at him.

“See you soon, Dream!” They both exclaim with different amount of intensity.

And then he leaves.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Sometime he has nightmares.

Sometimes it’s actually more like always.

As time passes, he has nightmares of different things.
He remembers nightmares where someone tried to kill him only to fail, and yet, being unable to save the town’s people. Of the empty but lively eyes Cat gave him before that night, and of the empty, dead eyes he had seen on his corpse after the killers left the village.

He remembers nightmares where he braided soft pink hair and brown, almost black hair, and then, red vines coming out of the floor, attacking him, exposing him, both his friends turned enemies.

He remembers nightmares were the blood followed him through the land.

He remembers sealing the egg, (and oh, if that isn’t one of the worst. The terrible smell of blood, the distressing and eye-hurting brightness of the red and white that surrounded the place, his family at the time completely corrupted by the egg’s power.
And he had to end their misery before sealing the egg, for he couldn’t risk the infection spreading once again.

(It hurts so much, because he didn’t know at the time, but the infection stopped after the sealing.
And it hurts so much because he had filled his hands with the blood of people he loved, just to stop something that was as bloodthirsty as he apparently was.
And it hurts so much more now that he knows that he is to weak to properly contain the egg. That all he had done was for nothing).

Recently, tho, he has nightmares of the future.

Of hurting his old friends, of destroying L’manburg, of driving Wilbur to madness, of driving Tommy into a severe depressed state where the kid almost…

Sometimes he dreams of the prison. He hears the lava falling, and nothing more than the echo of his head hitting against the obsidian walls.

Sometimes, it’s The Raid. The vines surrounding him once again.
It could be the memory, seeing the Hero fall to the ground, covered in blood, Bad’s eyes blank and gleeful, as if he hadn’t just murdered a kid. It could also be a sadistic modification of the memory, where things went even worse, and where everyone was dead but him, the place filled with several monsters using the bodies of the people that lived on the Smp.

Other days, he would wake up puking at the gross memories of the bits and pieces Puffy and Philza had left behind after protecting him from the explosion.
If his brain was on the mood, it would even add Techno’s face looking at him with hate and disgust.
Maybe even a fake memory of Techno’s dead body.

Logically, he knew Techno could still be alive in the future. He hadn’t seen a body.
Not that THAT would stop his brain from fucking him up even more.

Now, the last nightmare, was the Fall.
It wasn’t the worst, but it still hurt a lot.
When they took Karl, when they injured Ranboo, when his old friends tried to kill him once again.

There were a lot of nightmares, and they were constant.

Like today, when he woke up screaming in the middle of the woods, crying terrified of something that he was too early to stop.

Yeah, fun times.

Half of the week had already passed. He was already far away from the mainland, and he was close to the central zone, so he just chose to keep walking, sleep be damned. He had better things to do than torturing himself.

The place is really calm. Nothing like future L’manburg, or like Eret’s castle.

Now that he thought about that… what was he gonna do with the king position? Should he… hand it to George?
It’s just… part of him knows that it’ll rise trouble. George could be attacked, hurt, (transformed into a pulp using violence). And if he didn’t? Would he grow bitter? George knew of his plan of eventually crowning him. Would he be resentful if he chose someone else, like future George had when Dream gave the title back to Eret? Or was he in time to explain his reasoning with present George and still keep what little relationship they had at this place in time?

A hissing noise snaps him back to reality. He blocks with the shield just in time to avoid getting blown up by a creeper, but a little heat and some burning pieces of gunpowder fall on him. At this point, even with his old body back, his pain resistance it’s too high, so it doesn’t really hurt. No, the problem is that the sound of explosions triggers him.

It starts slow. Numbness in his fingers, a heavy feeling in his chest, his throat closing, not allowing him any chance of getting the needed air into his lungs. It feels like he is dying.

He tries, really tries, to remember Karl’s words. He looks at some flowers nearby, (Puffy had a beautiful braid, decorated with flowers that day). He finds some feathers on the ground, (black, like the calcined ones that were near him the day of the explosion). He observes his hands, (and they’re filled with blood and calcined flesh. How had they gotten like that? How, how how how how how- he knows how).

He touches the grass, (he hadn’t noticed when he got on his knees, but that wasn’t the issue right now). He touches his mostly clean clothes, (so different from the one he had worn that day, ruined by fire and dirt and blood).

He smells smoke.
(He doesn’t know if it’s because of a creeper, or if the eggpire just bombed them. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t know, he just couldn’t do anything).

And suddenly, he could. Dream gasps for air, desperate. Like a drowning man does when he finally gets out of the sea.
Something shines near his chest. The necklace, he recognizes, his mind cleaning out the remains of the fog it had created in the panic. He doesn’t know how, but the necklace had numbed him enough for him to calm down. Enough, so that he snapped out of a panic attack. He rasped a pained giggle.

Karl really was the MVP of the Dream Smp.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

He got to the central zone early morning, Wednesday morning.
And as the sun rises, the message is successfully sent.

The answer is relatively quick.

Technoblade: You’re whitelisting me on the DSMP?

Technoblade: I mean, weird flex, but okay.

Technoblade: I can be there as early as Sunday, hope it isn’t urgent, whatever you need.

Technoblade: Actually, I might stay there for a while, I’m ditching the Antarctic Empire for. Reasons. Gg if you thought this was gonna be a temporary alliance.

Technoblade: You’re stuck with me until one of us fucks that up.

Technoblade: See you Sunday, green Teletubby.

Great.
Now it’s time to go back to the Smp. Who doesn’t love three days long trips?

He should install a connection on the mainland, because making a half a week trip just to send a message was a shitty option. He’d do that as soon as he got back.
For now, it was time to start walking. Maybe he could reach the mainland before needing to sleep.

Chapter Text

After Tommy visits him, things get worse.

It’s honestly his fault. He snapped.
Sure, Tommy had annoyed him, and had pestered him, calling him different things that Dream KNEW he was, but didn’t want to hear.
Still. That was no fucking reason to kill the child.

To be slightly fair to himself, it was something that had been coming from a long time.

He honestly envied Tommy. While Dream gave everything up to give the kid the opportunity to rise and be the hero, the child mostly used this to get out of trouble he had made.
They had villainized Dream, and he had accepted that role eagerly to get rid of the egg, only to see Tommy mess up things again and again.
Stealing things, lying, burning houses, threatening Dream. The exile originally was a plan to humble down Tommy, and it had worked.
Dream could choke on guilt later. At least Tommy had learned his lesson.
But then the egg started to dominate, to win. He really didn’t want to, but he had to do it.

So he piled up all of the Dream Smp against himself, letting Tommy grow into the hero title.

He accepted his place on the prison, staying alive only in case he had to bring someone back after the egg’s ultimate demise.

He stays there.

Time passes, and visits stop coming. He slowly loses his sanity, his clock, and his will to live. Then Tommy visits.

Tommy talks, and gloats, and mocks, and he is all mighty, happy about his freedom, about Dream’s fall, the monster, the creator of all evil things in the server.
He gets stuck for a week after a random attack to the prison, (although it might have been planned, most likely by the egg. Not that he could know, with the lack of communication with the outside).
The last day Tommy would be stuck there, Dream snaps.

And yeah, it had been coming for a long time. He didn’t want to, but oh, how he hated the kid who took his place as the protector of the Smp. Who stole everyone’s hearts and became the hero even after all the bad things he had done. How he hated the kid’s obsession with something material when he had amazing people by his side. He hated that Tommy didn’t even doubt once when taking almost all his lives when he had to prepare for a week before even starting to prepare his downfall, to bullshit his way into making it seem like he could actually muster the strength to take Tubbo’s last life.

(He couldn’t, not really. He knew about Punz betrayal, and he had stalled. Why else would he give the kids so much time to talk, when he could just get it over with? If he was as heartless as everyone thought him to be, perhaps. But he wasn’t, no matter how good he could act… At least, he couldn’t until all he had been dragging pushed him to the edge, and he reacted to Tommy’s yapping).

(And god, Tommy just wouldn’t shut up).

So he punched and scream until all his energy was drained, until he felt to tired to keep doing it, until the movement stopped. He felt sick, all the blood in his hands burning in a way that wasn’t physical but still hurt, and a lot.

Of course Tommy had been fine. That was what the book of necromancy was for after all.

He didn’t complain when Sam fixed the automatized potato system.

He didn’t say a thing when everyone stopped visiting him.

It was what he deserved.
He might had have good intentions with his past actions, but he would never forgive himself for doing something like that. He was okay with rotting away in the prison.

That’s why he cried when he say the same scene in front of him.
Just this time, there was no book to fix this, it’s remains burned and buried away somewhere in the Badlands.

And when the Raid was declared a failure, and Tommy was about to fall to the ground, Dream could see the fear in the blond kid eyes.

“Dream-!” The kid yelped, begging, crying, his hand extended towards him.

(Tommy who hated him with his entire being. Tommy who was so terrified of him he had the whole place arranged so they wouldn’t even look at each other. The same Tommyinnit, begging to Dream for help).

A last slash finished him up, and Dream threw up right there and then.

Bad’s gleeful laughter filled the place. “My goodness, this is going to be a little hard to clean.” Then he looked at Dream, his expression peaceful, happy. “Now, Dream. Come on, my friend, just join us! It will be so much easier once you do.”

He doesn’t remember a lot after that. He knows he made Bad bleed. He remembers the demon’s expression of surprise. He knows he was dragged away from the Badlands.

He knows that was the last time he saw Tommy, and he knows that eventually, the guilt is going to kill him.
Choosing a kid as the Hero… He was the exact same kind of monster Wilbur was, making a child fight his battles, pushing him into the front, getting him killed.

It was all his fault.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

He coughs. He wakes up coughing, actually, and he keeps doing it until he pukes, and only then he stops to take a breather.

He slept like two hours, and after that nightmare, (memory?), that had been enough for the rest of the week. Not that the week was going to last any longer, as it was Sunday already,

He drank some water to clean his mouth, and after that, he just kept walking. The middle land was near, just an hour or less away from his actual position, and he’d rather just get there early and deal with whatever he had to do, too tired to care about anything other than that.

And he had to oversee L’manburg, too. He didn’t have any messages on the transmisor so there was no news about the new nation and-

A sound comes from behind him, it’s not a Mob.
He doesn’t straighten up, nor slows down. He just keeps walking. Whatever, (whoever), it’s following doesn’t need to know that he heard them.

He hums, trying to focus on the sounds. He doesn’t, or not a lot. He does hear some movement, but besides that, the person who follows him it’s incredibly quiet, with light steps.

Right. They’re on the right side.

Where does he have his axe again?

They jump. It’s super soft, but it makes enough sound for him to notice, and he takes out his weapon, blocking a sword swing in a graceful move. Techno smiles at him, using the parry to jump back, quick to equilibrate his body, so then he straightens his back and lowers the offending sword.

“I see you’re as fast as ever on your feet,”

Dream basically deflates. “Are you crazy? You could’ve killed me!!”

“But i didn’t. You reacted well, you’re alive. And I’m pretty sure this place has a three lives rule, right? You would’ve been fine,” Techno says, waving his hand as his sword disappears in thin air, joining the pink-haired man’s inventory.

“Well, what if i hadn’t?”

Dream wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he had been too slow. It had been a miracle he caught Techno on time. He was too tired by the lack of sleep and a proper meal. He could’ve actually died to the Blade’s blade.

(He has to remind himself that he isn’t running on one live anymore. He is back, he can see his counter. At this point everyone has their three lives, and it will stay like that if he has something to say about it).

He sighs. His mask covers his fear, and he is thankful. His response is one that could be confused as someone paranoid, (which he was), instead of someone actually terrified of dying.

“Goddammit, Techno, there’s people out for my blood on the Smp, don’t scare me like that”.

Techno snorts. “You could probably take them down easily. It’d be really sad if you couldn’t,” the hybrid replied.

“I mean, yeah, but that’s beside the point.” He waves it off, faking a lack of concern he didn’t actually have. “I’m surprised you’re so early. I left the central zone just a few minutes after you answered and you still caught up with me.”

Techno blinks slowly, as if he had just said something really stupid.
“You went all the way to the central zone just to send one message.”

It sounds like an affirmation, despite the fact that the wording is that of a question. Dream, suddenly feeling really stupid, nods.

“I… yeah?”

“I mean, let’s forget the fact that you could’ve just build a communication cell on the Smp,” the contrary grumbles, suddenly looking like a tired dad whose child just told him he burned the stove trying to make cereal. “You went to the central zone and didn’t even consider to look around in case i was there.”

He processes the information, and takes a deep breath.

“You were on the central zone.”

“I was.”

“When i sent you the message.”

“Uhum.”

Dream claps his hands, keeping them together for a few seconds, before gesturing at random.

“Fuck.” he very smartly concludes.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

He accompanies Techno to the principal part of the Smp.
Well, Techno accompanies him. Dream acts like a tour guide for most of their travel. He explains a little of how the place is scattered, and he tells him of the most important places on the nether, plus the principal routes of transportation.\

A few minutes before they reach the community house, Techno stops.

“And?”

Dream frowns, confused, stopping too. “And? what?”

The hybrid looks flatly at Dream. “Instead of waiting a week for the connection to the central land to be formed, so you could send messages like a normal, intelligent man, you walked for a week to get there and to come back. Just to send me a message. You gonna explain or are we gonna act like you didn’t just do a minus twenty IQ move?”

He clears his throat, tilting his head back. “Well, uh.” He fakes some coughing and turns around, showing his back to Techno and putting his hands on his own neck. “Okey, yeah, I do need something.”

Techno hums. “Figures”.

“Listen! is important,” he says, looking at the other once again. He lifts one of his hands, showing three fingers. “The old gods of this land have spoken to me, and they told me about three important things that will come. Two tragedies and one miracle.”

The other looks… Well, not surprised, actually, but he does look slightly shocked.

“What do you mean?”

Dream fully turns his body towards Techno.

“I heard from the gods that your brothers will fall. That a tyrant will take their new land, and he will cast them away. I also heard that a child will soon find his way into the land, a powerful hybrid that will need assistance so he won’t fall into the wrong hands. And i heard about an abomination breaking free of it’s sealing, luring innocent people into becoming murderers.”

Techno puts his hand on his chin, thinking. “I see.”

“And well, I thought you’d be a perfect option-”

“To fight the tyrant and the abomination,” Techno finishes, uninterested. “Given my title and stuff.”

“What? no. I thought you might be a good sensei for the kid.”

(He remembers Techno’s tender smile at Ranboo, and the friendship the two hybrids developed. He remembers how Ranboo’s fighting style became a big, important part of him.

He thinks, that if anyone can keep Ranboo safe from the monstrosities of the Smp, it will be Techno.)

The pink haired man looks at him like he just lost his head.

“I mean, i know you’re not too excited of being a caretaker, but i have a feeling this won’t be a literal child. Maybe as old as Tubbo is,” he continues explaining. “It’s also not an obligation. You’re free to stay on the Smp whether you choose to help me or not, although you might find yourself involved on the conflicts the people like to make.”

He looks at Techno, expectantly, waiting for a reaction. The other man nods.

“We’ll see.”

And that’s it. No more questions. The hybrid starts walking once again, only stopping to look at him as if asking him if he’s coming or not. Dream follows.
They stop once again when they reach the community house.

“Welp,” Techno speaks up. “I’ll leave you here. We’ll see each other soon.”

“You should probably go see Wilbur and Tommy. If only to say hi. They’re probably gonna be happy you’re visiting them.”

“Eh, they’ll be fine. If there’s something I know well about them is that I’m never getting rid of their presence.”

Dream chuckles.
“See you later, Techno.”

“Bye, green Teletubby,” He answers, waving his hand and walking away.

How curious.
Techno’s house was in that direction on the original timeline.

“Was that Technoblade?”

Dream does not jump. He absolutely does not. You did not see him jump, it’s all in your head.

“Did you just jump? Oh god, did I scare you? I scared you!”

“Shut up, Sapnap.”

“I scared you!! You just jumped!!” Sapnap starts laughing at his expense, and Dream slightly pushes him. “Look a Dream, the scaredy cat!”

“Sapnap I will kill you, I swear to god.”

“HAHA, Dream just got scared because of me!”

“You’re impossible, I hate you.” He grumbled, no real bite behind his words.

Sapnap just kept laughing, and after a few seconds acting like he is mad, he starts laughing too. (He missed this).

“I’m never gonna let you forget this.”

“Oh, come on, you’ll forget this in like a week.”

“Nope, not happening. I’ll tell this to everyone I know. Punz, George, Purpled. Hell, I’ll tell Tommy and Wilbur too. Even Technoblade will know.”

“No one will know, you’ll forget in like, an hour or something.”

“Nuh uh. I will tell everyone.”

“You will not.”

“Will too”

“Will not”

“Will too-”

“Girls, you’re both pretty, now shut up,” George complains, looking at them from the door of the house. “You’re making so much noise and I’m trying to code.”

“George! I scared Dream!”

“Sure, and Technoblade joined the Smp.”

“Yeah! how did you know?”

George rolls his eyes. “Please, Sapnap.”

“Hey! It’s true!!”

At this point, Dream is fully wheezing.

“Whatever you say, Sapnap.”

(“Whatever you say, Dream,” George mutters, his voice angry.

“George! Wait, you can’t-!”

“Just go away Dream. I really don’t want to see you.”

George goes away.
The next time Dream sees him, there’s little of George to even recognize).

“Dream?” Two voices call to him.

He flinches slightly, giving a step back when he notices them getting closer. He regrets it instantly, because his two friends share a look, and then stop trying to touch him.

“Dream, are you okay?”

“Yeah man, you’ve been acting weird lately.”

“I mean, we know you’re busy and you have your secrets and stuff, but normally you tell us at least your schedule or something, but these two weeks… we barely even saw you at all!”

Sapnap frowns. “Was it Wilbur? Did he do something?”

That catches his attention. He shakes his head and lifts his hands in a surrender gesture. “No! no. This has nothing to do with Wilbur. What even make you get to that conclusion?”

“Well you’ve been acting weird ever since Wilbur and Tommy started their stupid nation. Is that it? Is it their nation?’

“We can still stop them, you know?” George asks him, his gesture as mad as Sapnap’s. “It’s your land, after all. They don’t really have a right to it.”

“No! Guys, it’s fine, really. I don’t mind them. Like- of course I’m not happy, but I honestly, really don’t give a fuck about what they do.”

The other two make a face, not happy with his choice, but not anyway.

“Please talk to us, Dream.” George pleads in a low tone.

Dream frowned under his mask.
(“Please talk to us, Dream,” George begs. “We can- we can still fix. Please tell us why you’re doing this.”)
He looks to his side, focusing on a random flower, (red, like the ones Ranboo said he left around Tommy’s house after the prison incident. Red, like the ones Ranboo and him had left on the remains of the base). He hears someone sigh, but nothing more than that.

“Okay. Yeah. Fine. I-, I’m gonna be inside, okay? Uh, reading some more stuff about coding. If you need me, you know where I am.”

“Sure,” he mutters, before clearing his throat and rising his voice slightly. “I mean, sure. Yeah. Later, George.”

The man looks at him for a few seconds, before smiling, nodding, and turning around, walking back to the community house.
Sapnap blehs.

“Get a room.”

Dream wheezes. “Oh, come on Sappy. You jealous?”

“Me? Jealous? Of you two? gross.”

He gets awfully close to Sapnap. “Sappy!” he sings, jokingly. “Do you want a kiss, Sap?”

“Puaj! get away, Dream, you’re being gross.” Sapnap complains, showing him his tongue with a fake disgusted gesture, laughing. The bandanna teen also pushes Dream away from his face.

“Owww. But Pandas, you always want some kisses. Is it because the George thing?”

“No, It’s because you smell. Did you even wash yourself on your trip?”

“Maybe!”

“Dream!!”

“Just a kiss! Come on!”

“Stay back! I will hit you!”

“hehehe…!”

“Dream! I told you to stay away!”

“Sapnap!! Come here!!”

“Dream! NO!”

____________________________________________________________________________

“Dream?”

“yeah?”

“Are you bleeding under the mask?”

“Oh, yeah, my nose is broken.”

“Your nose is what?! How?! You were outside for half an hour?”

“Sapnap has a pretty neat right hook.”

“Sapnap has a- SAPNAP!”

“I’m not sorry!! I warned him!”.

Chapter Text

Karl tells him about the past and the future.
He tells Dream about the In Between, and he lends Dream his diaries, although he was always there, making sure nothing happened to the books.

That’s how Dream learns about many different things.

He learns what happened to The Village That Went Mad during the moments he was dormant after his attempted murder.
He frowns, pained, when reading what the corruption had done to Sir Billiam and William after he was forced to run away.
And of many more stories of thing he had already forgotten, of things that had been so long ago his memory was fuzzy.
And things that he remembers like it had all been last week.

When the base falls, they don’t have the luxury of having a place to stay anymore. They keep on the move, fully knowing that the egg followers keep tracking them and Ranboo all over the server.
He closes the server, too. No one allowed to enter, no one allowed to go out. He knows the egg can’t expand, even if that means they have to die there. Karl knows it too, and Ranboo accepts it at the second. The three of them know that the chances of staying alive are slim.
Dream will most like it do it, if only because of his origins, but there isn’t such insurance for the other two.

And Karl, who had gone and seen the future, smiled sadly at their questions, shaking his head slowly.

(Karl mentions the future being confusing, especially after Ranboo’s injury. How could there be a descendant of the boy if he was on this state? They don’t get an answer).

Karl still disappears from time to time, leaving them a note those days, just so they know that he is safe.
Normally around those days, Dream and Ranboo set up a camp. They gather materials from the near zones; whatever they can find. If it is leather and meat, or just some berries. They never gather a lot. Enough so they can save most of it on an ender chest, but never enough to fill their inventories.

The places they stay at are always random. Unpredictable, weird. Once, they sleep on a boat. Another time, they dig and hide on the last layer of stone before the bedrock. They hide on the houses of those who lived the farthest away from the main zone of the Smp, like Sam’s house, or Techno’s shack.
One time they even sleep at Dream’s villain lair, stealing everything useful that the infected members had left behind.

They live on the run, and become used to their lives at nomads. It’s weird when the infected people of the Smp catch up with them, and is generally easy to lose them thanks to Ranboo’s growing skill. Their camping sites always easy to clean up, and expendable enough to be left behind should an emergency arise.

One time they find Dream and Ranboo when Karl is still traveling in time.
There are too many, surrounding both of them instantly. Dream tries to fight them while Ranboo tries to take whatever he can from the camping site. They can’t contact Karl. Dream can’t contain them all, and eventually they reach Ranboo, so Dream pushes past them, forces Ranboo to leave all behind, and calling the remains of his Admin powers, he teleports them away.

The two of them catch their breath. They’re too far away to be seen or heard, but close enough they can go back for Karl once they leave.

They don’t leave.

And when Karl comes back, Ranboo’s powers are useless. They drag the tired time traveler away while Dream and Ranboo watch, exhausted, from the top of the trees.

____________________________________________________________________________

A full month passes quickly.

Between watching L’manburg’s rise, Techno building his house, Bad and Skeppy building the Badlands, and planning what to do, the time passes so fast Dream barely registers it. It probably has to do with the lack of sleep, because sometimes a few hours get erased from his memory, his body going in automatic.

But hey, if it helps making time go faster he ain’t complaining.

Some good things happen. He stays around Sapnap and George, finally starting to sleep on the community house. He still wakes up choking in the middle of the night. He still flinches away from Sapnap, and he never looks at George when the older one is laying down, or asleep. No one mentions it, and as time passes, it gets easier to ignore the painful feeling in his chest as he starts to relax around the other two members of the Dream Team.

He doesn’t let his hopes go up. Just in case.

He sometimes accompanies Techno. The hybrid ignores him for the most, his answers short, and never mentioning Dream’s proposition of taking care of a child, but he isn’t outright hostile to Dream, and as time passes, he even warms up slightly. (Actually, it’s more like he gains confidence to constantly roast and bully Dream, but Dream allows it because he does the exact same thing, so really, no harm done).
The only thing that Dream finds… interesting, it’s that Techno builds his house on the polar zone, like he had done after his retirement on the first timeline.

It feels like a punch in the guts.
He wonders why. If things had been so different from the first timeline. If Techno had arrived on Dream’s peaceful invitation instead of Wilbur’s desperate one. If Techno hadn’t become a enemy of L’manburg, and things were going well… then…
Why? Why were things the same?

(He doesn’t want to think about what that means for him.
About the probable time in prison he would spend if the world decided that time couldn’t be changed. That destiny existed, and Dream’s destiny was to rot away in a cell until what little sanity he had left just, disappeared.)

People start arriving, sooner than they had on the original timeline, probably because of the lack of conflict.
He is, of course, allowed in L’manburg, as everyone in the server is. He ignores Wilbur hateful stare and he never even looks at Tommy. (The more he does, the more memories that come back to him, and he can’t allow himself to go there again).

He has nice talks with Eret, always avoiding political topics with them, focusing on more fun topics.
He buys some cookies from Nikki, one of the new members of L’manburg, who seems to be always happy.
He waves to Jack, who isn’t really interested on speaking with Dream, but still finds it in himself to be polite.
He spends a surprising amount of time listening to Fundy ramble about a new idea he has for a code, and he even helps the fox hybrid get the stuff he needs.
He even helps Tubbo with the bee sanctuary.

He also spends time with Ponk, or Punz, and he even helps Purpled a little with the gathering of materials for the creations of the minor.

It gets to the point were he is either getting the things he needs for the egg’s sealing, or he is helping whoever has a minor problem. He always arrives late night at the community house, sleeping barely a couple of hours before standing up and running to his next mission, if he even sleeps at all, with the nightmares and all that…

George and Sapnap look at him with suspicion, but never say a thing. Or almost never.
They do say something from time to time, when he is too tired to try to hide it. Today, for example.

“Jesus, Dream,” Sapnap says, looking at him. “I can’t look at your face but i can physically feel your eye bags from here. Are you sure you’re sleeping bro?”

He nods once, and then nods again, because for a second he forgets he had just done that.

“Dream, I swear. Get your ass back on a bed. You’re gonna pass out.”

He sighs. “I have some stuff to do. Nikki needed some things for a cake she is doing, and Punz wanted me to help him with some stuff in the nether. Also i have to find a totem.”

George shakes his head a no. “You can do all that later, after you’ve had some rest.”

“I’m fine.”

Sapnap scoffs, “Dream, you’re dragging your feet. I can feel your exhaustion from ten miles away.”

“Guys, I have stuff to do. I can sleep later.”

“Right, like you have done all week,” George says, annoyed. “Come on, Dream. I’ll help Nikki if she’s so desperate for ingredients.”

“And I’ll accompany Punz. The nether is my natural place, after all.”

He wants to complain, but he can’t. He starts to feel dizzy. He leans towards a wall, but the wall is farther than he thought, and he starts to fall.

“i have to-”

“Dream!!”

“Sapnap, catch him!”

____________________________________________________________________________

He wakes up only because his stomach hurts.

He tries to stand up, but barely achieves to sit down, leaning his back against a wall. He brings his hand to his face, relieved to feel his mask. It’s slightly higher than he normally has it, but it’s not enough to show his nose, so he doesn’t mind. He recognizes the room. Still the community house.

The door opens, and his head turns to it instantly. Bad and Nikki are there, both surprised to see him awake, but at the same time clearly relieved.

“Hey Dream. You okey, buddy?’ Bad asks him. ”You were out a few hours.“

Dream massages his temples, trying to aliviate the headache that starts to form.

“I’m good,” he croaks, before clearing up his throat and trying again. “I’m good. Just… tired, i guess.”

“Well! I’m not surprised. Apparently several people saw you overworking yourself. Sapnap and George say you haven’t been sleeping or eating correctly either.” Nikki looks at him, pouting.

“I mean,” Dream mutters, “To be fair to myself, they haven’t SEEN me do either, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t!”

“Well, have you?”

The masked mean opens his mouth, fully intending to lie, when his breathing stops for a second.

(“You’re a liar! A monster! A manipulative asshole! Everything bad that has ever happened it’s because of you and your actions, you fucking monster!”)

“Dream?”

He blinks, gulping.

“Dream, are you okay? You just zoned out really bad.”

Dream shakes his head, as if trying to throw the thoughts away.

“Okey, yeah. I haven’t been sleeping a lot. I’m just really tired.”

Bad smiles softly.

(Bad smiles softly, but showing his teeth. Teeth that shouldn’t be that sharp. Bad smiles softly, but it feels anything but soft. The blood dripping from his sword, standing just behind the body of a child.

Dream, standing over the body of the same child, noise of static filling his mind and drilling his head, everything feeling hot and uncomfortable and-)

“-some sliced apples, okey?”

Blinking again, Dream looks at Bad.
“Sorry. What did you say?”

“I said that I’m going for something for you to eat, like a sandwich and sliced apples. Is that okay, Dream?”

“Oh. Uh. I- I can go for them, it’s fine, you don’t need to-”

“Nope!” Nikki interrupts him. “You can barely sit, Dream. You’re not standing from there until you’ve rested well and you’ve eaten just as well. Understood? Doctor rules.”

Dream smiles slightly. He doesn’t say a thing about how neither she or Bad are doctors. He just nods as both walk to the door.

“Sapnap is gonna be visiting to make sure you’re actually resting, and I’ll be back tomorrow with some things so you can eat. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am”

Nikki smiles at him. “Good. Then see you tomorrow, Dream.”

“See you tomorrow, Nikki.”

Bad smiles widely, waves at Dream, and following Nikki, he closes the door behind himself.

Dream lays down slowly. He feels warm, happy. And oh, how he missed this feeling, of being cared for, of being loved.
Karl and Ranboo loved him, so much. They were family. But most of the time, it was Dream caring for them. It is a very different feeling, caring and being cared for.
And it’s not that he hated caring and protecting Karl and Ranboo, but it felt nice. He felt like a kid once again.

He jumped when his transmisor sent a message. He frowned.

‘Quackity has been whitelisted.’

‘KarlJacobs has been whitelisted.’

His mouth feels suddenly dry, and he wonders for a second if the End God hates him that fucking much. No other notification sounds come from the transmisor, so he throws the thing away with no force behind. Nothing sounds broken, so he turns away, covers his entire body with the sheets, and tries to sleep the stress away.

He is exhausted enough that it actually sticks. He starts to drift off immediately. There’s little sound from the first floor, but it’s suppressed by the walls, so it doesn’t annoy him.

Ranboo welcomes him. There’s a lot of food on the table; he recognizes the base’s kitchen and dining room. Philza is reading something on the other side of the table, and Puffy is scolding Tubbo and Tommy for running around. George is bickering with Sapnap. Punz pats Dream’s shoulder as he passes by him. Nikki laughs as she brings a tray with food, Jack just behind her with another.

Techno is leaning against a wall, rolling his eyes at the shenanigans around him and-

“Dream~” Bad voice makes him look back.
He expects to see his Bad. He hopes to see a soft smile, most likely dragging Skeppy around. Instead, he finds white and black. A gleeful smile. And so much noise.

He turns back again, finding nothing but blood and flesh, and red. Everything is so red. Vines and leaves filling the entire room. Pieces of cloth and flesh. A single red cape floating, stuck on the same wall Techno had been.
He blinks once, and once is enough to be suddenly surrounded by infected people. He is thrown against the floor, Sapnap standing on top of him, not letting him space for breathing. Tubbo and Punz smiling from behind.

“Oh, Dream. You thought your little trick was enough to stop us? to stop me?” Bad voice filling his ears. “You have no idea of what you’re doing, Dream. You can’t just get rid of me! The egg is so much more! You can run to the starts of time, but you can’t run from me, Dream!”

His focus starts to disappear, transforming into static. He can’t hear the demon’s voice as clear, his ears suddenly filled with cotton. Sapnap’s hands keep pressing against his neck.

“And we’ll see each other soon enough, my boy. Hope your pieces survive long enough to protect the king.”

Dream wakes with a gasp, coughing as he kicks the blanket away from him and stands up as quickly as he can, stumbling on the way to the door. He needs air. He needs air. He needs–

“Dream? Dream, Nikki said you have to- hey!”

He hears the voice, but his mind is far gone. Reacting to the feeling of someone trying to grab him, he pushes hard, hearing something hit against a wall, but never stopping, he sprints through the house, straight to the exit.

“Dream! Wait!”

(“Dream! Wait! Come back here!”)

“Dream?” Bad’s voice reaches his ears.

(“Dream~”).

He slams the door open and he runs, not looking back once.

Chapter Text

Ranboo liked the snow despite how it hurt him when it melted.

He constantly talked about his life before the egg took control of the land. How he loved living with Techno and Philza, and the things he saw, the things he did. He laughed after mentioning how Techno found an enchanted apple on the chest he was about to open, and about traveling with the other on a boat, despite his fear of water.
It was easy seeing how much Ranboo cared about Techno, and how much it hurt Ranboo the disappearance of the older man.

Dream couldn’t fill that place. He didn’t even dare to try, because right after Techno left, Ranboo was just too depressed and angry, and snapped at both Karl and Dream whenever the two of them tried to talk to him.

It wasn’t until after two months of traveling, the first time Karl had to go to the In Between, when the two of them finally spoke.
Actually, it was more of a fight. A one sided fight in which Ranboo snapped and left some energy out while Dream took it.

He never blamed the kid. Not even when he started apologizing. Dream just smiled softly at him and spoke.

“Do you want an explanation?”

Of course Ranboo hesitated, but after a few minutes, the curiosity was just too much. Of course Ranboo wanted a reason.

“Why did you became a monster?”

And Dream talks, once again.

Ranboo isn’t happy. He isn’t mad, either. He makes it clear that none of the things that had happened to him were a justification for hurting everyone on the Smp, and Dream nods, completely agreeing with him.

“There’s another reason, as to why I went all out on bad decisions, but,” Dream said, looking at a portal forming a few meters away from them. “That might be a tale for another time.”

After that night, the two of them got closer. Ranboo is still careful, tip toeing around some topics and always overthinking what he was about to say, but as the weeks passed by, the hybrid found himself comfortable with Dream and Karl.

Karl doesn’t question them. He just smiles and nods and treats them as friendly as he always was. Sometimes, Karl is the older brother, stopping them from doing reckless things and scolding them, despite he himself doing so much dangerous stuff.
Other times, Dream feels the oldest, always on the back of the group, ready to protect both of his friends from the infected people on the server.
Ranboo, surprisingly, gets to be the oldest brother too, despite being the youngest. It’s on the little things. The wise decisions and words he always had ready for the small team they have.

Dream is reminded of the family he formed. Of George and Sapnap. Of Puffy and Philza and Techno. Of Bad (the true Bad), and Ant. Of Punz and Sam.

And now, he has Ranboo and Karl too.

And as always, the Egg takes that away.

____________________________________________________________________________

When he wakes up, he feels really cold.

It probably has to do with the fact that he is in the middle of the polar zone, but what does he know?

His fingers feel… well, they don’t. The frostbite it’s barely starting to form, but decides to ignore it as he knows it’ll be okay. He stands up, stumbling slightly, a growl coming from his stomach with slight pain, an unfriendly reminder that he hadn’t eaten a thing in a while.

“Hey, Karl, where...?”

He winces at the memory that Karl isn’t here, and neither is Ranboo. He is in the past, and a nightmare woke him up. He slammed a door, which is probably why his right arm is throbbing in pain, and then ran until his consciousness said ‘bah-bye’.

He doesn’t know where he is, and he is kinda scared to ask, because running until his legs gave out doesn’t spare a clue. In the future, after the prison, he probably wouldn’t have run a lot. And after the base’s fall, he still wouldn’t have gotten that far away from the community house in this condition. But Dream’s current body is used to this kind of treatment with the manhunt games and the speedrunning adventures he does from time to time.

And considering he is in a polar zone, he could be anywhere near Techno’s house or lost in some random place in the server.

He gasps a little, trying to get as much air as he could, before starting to cough at the unpleasant feeling the cold leaves on his throat, hand going to his belt where the transmisor it’s supposed to be, and Dream grumbles at the memory of throwing it away so he could sleep in peace. Not his smartest move.

He starts to investigate his surroundings. The place is fully covered by snow (obviously), and there are some pines. There’s a frozen lake too. Nothing more. It’s snowing, too, enough for the green hoodie to feel humid and for his hair to be filled with small snowflakes, but not enough to be dangerous. And it doesn’t look like a storm is gonna come his way, so nothing to worry about. The light that’s half covered by the clouds comes from little after the middle of the sky, so it’s probably past noon.

His stomach growls once again, agreeing with him.

Shivering, he realizes that one of the first thing he should care about, it’s covering himself a little more. Normally, his sleeves would remain rolled up. But as his fingers barely react to his attempts of closing them, it’s clear that that isn’t an option right now, so he extends the fabric, the end of the sleeve reaching half of his frozen fingers.

Thankfully, it also seems like the time between his awakening and the moment he passed out wasn’t a lot, because there are footprints near the place he was using, and it’s clear they came from the boots he’s wearing, so that’s a great place to start walking to.

And he does!

It’s slow, and every single bone in his body hurts, his knees cracking every time a step is given, hands shoved in the hoodie’s pocket, only going out whenever he tripped or stumbled, ready to stop the fall.

Temperature starts to grow, making it clear when he’s about to reach another biome. That and the sudden decrease of snow, plus the new variety of trees that start appearing at the sides. The amount of trees isn’t going down, so a forest. Not one Dream can recognize, either. As the track disappears with the snow, two different paths are divisible, one to his left, and one to the right.

A weird feeling starts to crawl up his back. It feels like an out of body experience. Looking at his hands, he can almost see a faint trail following the movements he makes.

“What-”

He blinks in confusion as he hears his own voice twice.

“What the hell?”

He steps back, a bewildered expression and an anxious smile slowly creeping on his face as he sees a ghost of himself doing the exact same movements.

“The fuck.”

Receding to the Right, he looks at himself. The necklace hidden on his shirt feels warm.

Receding to the Left, he looks at himself. The necklace hidden on his shirt feels… cold.

The other version of him waves slowly.

The other version of him tilts his head slightly.

The contrary one shifts his stance, turning his back to him, and starts walking on the left path. He follows the lead, glancing a last time to the copy before going on, on the right path.

He looks at the copy for a second before turning around and going down the left path. If he ignores it, it doesn’t exist, right? He hears steps going away from him.

He keeps walking, the strange feeling drumming on his chest. His hand holding onto a log, stopping himself from advancing.

He walks. Or tries to. The horrible feeling starts to drown him, choking him as he sprints through the woods, closing his eyes while his feet direct the way, ignoring everything else and–

Shaking his head, Dream continues his way to the community house.

Dream falls. Opening his eyes, he finds that a big ravine it’s just on the perfect spot to stop him from going on. He looks as quick as he can on his inventory, but there’s no bucket he can use, and there isn’t any water below him. He gulps as he reaches the ground with a painful thud.

The feeling disappears, but Dream falls to the ground, snarling in pain, his right arm throbbing as if he had just fallen over it from enough height to break it.
He remembers something like that, actually, not that focusing on the memory is an option when the broken arm demands his full attention.
Standing up only using the legs it’s hard, but he manages. There is nothing useful in his inventory. There’s some cooked meat and a sword, but everything else must have been taken from him the first time he passed out by exhaustion on the community house. Which was a nice thought, but one that has royally screwed him over now that he needs a potion or a gapple.

Sighting, he chooses to continue walking, hoping to find the way home or at least a safe place to stay the night, knowing the sun is ready to start setting. There’s still a long way to go.

____________________________________________________________________________

When he reaches the community house, the moon it’s already making its way up the sky, shining brightly as the last rays of sun start disappearing on the horizon along with the orange tones in the sky, replaced by the deep blue and some stars.
He carries the broken arm with the contrary hand, and walks slowly, what little food he had now gone on the sprint he’d done to escape some mobs on the way.

There’s some noise coming from the house. As he opens the door, wincing as a wave of pain goes through his body at the sudden movement of hiding the injured arm behind his body, every single voice shuts down. There’s a shit ton of people inside.

“Dream?”

“Dream holy FUCK-!”

“Language, Sapnap!!”

“-where the hell where you?!”

It’s not only the Dream team and Bad. Nikki, Punz, Purpled, Ponk, and Eret are there too.

“I… got lost?”

“Yeah, we noticed!”

“Dream you were supposed to be resting! not- running like a possessed deer into the woods!” Nikki exclaimed, not as angry as she was worried. “I was making the cookies and suddenly the whole server got pinged because you disappeared!”

“What even made you run?”

Sapnap and George share a small glance before turning to him.

Dream looks to his side, at the wall.

“Well… uh. I just…”

He feels his breathing starting to raise as the intensity of the stares increases.

(Everyone is looking at him like a circus animal caged, an at this point, he might as well be called one. The jail reminds him so much of the prison and if Ranboo weren’t there, he probably would’ve already snapped. But they have to rescue Karl, he can do this much for his friend. Now, if only everyone stopped looking at him–).

“Dream!!” Punz voice broke him out of his thoughts. “Jesus! This is what we’re talking about! Why are you acting so weird?”

(Did they notice? Do they know?
He observed them, looking deeply into their eyes even if they couldn’t do the same with him.

They don’t. They don’t know. Good).

The speedrunner sighs. “Okay, it’s just-… The higher beings spoke to me, recently,” He lies smoothly. (It’s not that hard. He has done it before. He knows the act; he is an amazing actor. What’s one more act for the crowd?).

Everyone looks shocked.

“Wait- really? The higher… like, the server gods? The old deities?”

“Yeah. I had a dream- well. More like a premonition. I’m not sure what they were trying to tell me, but something bad is supposed to happen, and I’ve been trying to prepare.”

Hey, half-truths are fair game, sue him.

(He wonders if he should tell them. If the truth should be shared, and the destiny they all had on a distant future should be told like a story. Would they trust Dream? Would they blindly follow and help him? or would they call him crazy, casting him away or imprisoning him once more?

Would he survive if they did the later?

He chooses not to say more).

“Is that why you’ve been so busy?” George asks with a frown, and looks unsure at Dream’s nodding. “Then why did you run today? What does that have to do with anything?”

Dream ponders the answer he is gonna give, and continues; “I don’t remember.”

Nikki gives a step towards him. “You don’t-? You don’t remember?!”

He shakes his head a no. “I’ll be completely honest with you guys. I remember getting two notifications of whitelisting, and falling asleep. I know I had a nightmare or something, but nothing more after that.” He frowns at that. “Well i actually remember slamming a door and… pushing someone? I think? could’ve been a mob tho.”

“It wasn’t a mob. You’re so rude,” Sapnap growls at him, more annoyed than actually mad. “That shit hurt-”

“Language!!”

His own face contorted on a shameful expression.
“Sorry, Pandas..”

Sapnap tries to stay mad at him, but unable to, the younger man choses to turn his face to another point, huffing. “Whatever.”

Dream thinks this might be the end of the conversation.

“Okay, then, care to explain the broken arm?” Purpled points out.

So that was a lie…

As sudden gasps shoot through the room, Dream promises that the next kid he is gonna punt is Purpled. He moves the injured arm to the front, on full display of everyone in the room. It’s slightly bent on a way that shouldn’t be possible.

“Well, Purpled,” He puts emphasis on the minor’s name, making sure he knows how mad he is at him. The fucker smirks at him. Little jerk. “It could’ve been the door slam. Or maybe I fell during the run. I really don’t remember.”

He remembers quite well, the strange merge of memories etched into his brain. But of course, they don’t need to know that.

Bad runs towards him, and it takes every single drop of confidence, bravery and willpower he has to not flinch away from the demon, who materializes a healing potion from thin air.

“Goodness, Dream! How long have you been running around like that?! You’re seriously gonna give me a heart attack if you continue being this careless!”

He smiles softly as he accepts the potion, lifting his mask slightly to make room for the tip of the bottle to be able to reach his mouth. Drinking the whole liquid in one go, everyone looks as his arm fixes itself.

“Ah… sorry for worrying you guys. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Please don’t let a ‘next time’ be,” Eret smiles like a tired parent. “For our mental health.”

“Please.” Nikki mumbles, almost pleading.

A warm feeling filled his chest, everyone eyes locked on him with caring expressions. It felt nice. Like the times before the egg. Soft memories appearing like flashes on his brain, a smile hidden by the mask spreading on his face.

“I’ll try,” he half promises.

“You better!” Punz looked at him with a stern expression before smiling too. “You’re so problematic, Dream.”

He chuckled nervously, scratching his neck, seeing the L’manburg citizens walking towards the exit.

“You too stay safe, guys”

“And please rest. Properly this time,” Nikki scolds. “Or I’ll hunt you down.”

“Manhunt, Nikki vs Dream. Who would win?”

“Have you seen Nikki angry? She would crush Dream single handed. Won’t need anyone to help her.”

“True.”

The L’manburg citizens waved their goodbyes as they departed, Punz, Ponk and Purpled following just behind them. Bad walked towards the exit as well, but stopped.

“Dream, uh… Are we… are we okay? I mean… I noticed… You…” The demon frowned, rubbing his arm. “I… did I do something wrong?”

(The empty, wide eyes pierced through his very soul, following every single movement he made. “Oh, Dream. we’ve been expecting you. We knew you’d be here soon. We knew you would find the way home”.

He wasn’t even sure he was breathing, desperation and despair filling his lungs instead of the air he needed. The purple colored blood spreading slowly on the ground. He can see the corrupted Bad talking, his, IT’S mouth moving, the sound of static impeding him from hearing whatever noise came from the corrupted demon.

So painfully similar to a scene he had seen before, a different kid taking the position of the hybrid that trembled on the ground).

“No,” he smiles, even if the other one can’t see it. “Everything’s fine, Bad. Just some nightmares. Sorry for worrying you”.

Bad returns the smile. “I’m glad. And I’ll come back tomorrow with some muffins! You better rest well, Dream!”

Bad closes the door behind himself, leaving Dream alone with Sapnap and George.

“I’ll go sleep, guys. I’m super tired.”

The two other members of the Dream Team nod, saying nothing.

Dream always had a good eye for noticing the smile things, something important on his speedrunning travels, and every adventure he does. That’s why it’s easy to notice the reactions that both of the other two try to hide, like the clear disgust on George’s face as the older man turns back to the book he’s reading, and the way Sapnap looks incredibly frustrated while he tries says something on his transmisor.

He wonders if it’s fate, that the two people he cares about the most will inevitably hate him, and as the sound of his steps echoed around the house, hope slipped away from him.

Chapter Text

Some of the things he does the most while in confinement on the base, before the raid, is reading. Not only because it’s one of the only things he can do, but because it’s something he has always loved, and it was exciting having something else to read that wasn’t his own journals.

Or at least the few journals that survived Tommy during the time the kid got stuck with him.

Most of the things he read were fantasy books. Stories about space and the further beyond. Stories about creatures with long ears proficient with bows, and big dragons that were either benevolent creatures or cruel monsters.

There were a lot of romantic novels that he mostly skimmed through, not that interested, except for a few scenes that were actually pretty good.

The great majority of the shelves, though, were filled with history books and informative books about different places, biomes, mobs.
He liked reading about the things he hadn’t seen in so long. About the nether, and the creatures that lived there.

He commented about them during training against Techno, and Philza mused at Dream when the younger one mention some interesting fact he had read. Puffy stayed up late, hearing him read whatever he had found interesting.
Karl, too, listened to his ranting about a character death or a bad turn in the story. The time traveler laughed when Dream cursed at the villain for ruining something, and when squealed at a soft scene.

“It’s just a kiss, Dream, come on.”

“It’s gross! and you know it.”

“I mean, yeah! but you’ve been here for so long. Sticking out your tongue at a page just because someone is kissing is so immature”

“That isn’t gonna stop me from doing it.”

“You’re so childish”.

Dream stuck his tongue out at Karl.

________________________________________________________________________________

“So you got lost for a full day, huh?”

It’s the first time Dream visits in two weeks, but he isn’t surprised that Techno knows, because he is sure that despite the fact that the hybrid is never seen around L’manburg, he still maintains communication with Wilbur, and probably Tommy.

Dream chuckles sheepishly. “It wasn’t a full day. I think i got lost around noon, and came back before the sun hid, so… not a full day!”

“Half of the day then. That doesn’t make it any better.”

“Well, at least I know that if anything were to happen, i can run a lot.”

“Your whole style is about running, Dream. You could probably run to the border of the world without getting tired. Or getting tired but ignoring it because you’re go big or go home. And I’m pretty sure you’re homeless.”

“I’m not homeless! I have a house!”

“The community house? I’m pretty sure that’s meant to be communal, Dream.”

“I-”

“It’s fine. As long as you don’t become a weird tyrant obsessed with power or something like that, the most i will do is annoy you with that information.”

His lips pressed on a thin line, an uncomfortable feeling teasing him from inside. Turning his head to the big potato cultivation.

“I’m not homeless.”

“And Sapnap didn’t scare you, I’m sure.”

He groaned. “He really remembered? I thought he would forget for sure!”

“Oh. So he did? Hm, then you ARE homeless.”

“Oh, shut up,” he grumbled, not real bite on his words. “You have a lot of potatoes to collect, focus on that and leave me alone.”

“Hey, you’re the one that came to my farm. I have every single right to be as infuriating as i can as revenge.”

Rolling his eyes, he focuses once again on the rough and quick movements of his companion, the other man doing the repetitive activity without a single problem, swiftly picking up the potatoes.

“I also heard you broke your arm.” Dream groans again at Techno’s words. “You’re lacking, Dream. The great, the amazing Dream Was Taken, breaking his arm after getting lost after getting scared.”

“Okey, rude. First of all, the two events are separated by a LONG time. They have nothing to do with each other. Second-!”

“Dream you’ve been lying to my face all day, telling me you’re not homeless, how am I supposed to believe you-?”

“-SECOND,” he interrupts, “I did break my arm, but it was under really fucking weird circumstances so it doesn’t count.”

“How weird?”

“I think i was hallucinating, but I’m not sure because the memory is foggy.”

The piglin frowns at that, stopping for a second before continuing his work.

“Hallucinating, huh?”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t know how to explain, but i saw… something? someone? and then i have memory of two things happening at the exact time.”

The lack of response worries Dream, but- “Dream, are you doing drugs?”

“What?! What?!”

“Dream is that why you and Wilbur are on bad terms, man? Are you starting your own drug empire, Dream?”

“No! What the hell?!”

“I don’t know, Dream, that’s kind of sus, you know?”

“I am NOT doing drugs, Techno.”

“Are you not homeless either, Dream?”

“Aw, shut up. You’re so annoying. Seriously.”

Techno sneers at him. Well, it’s not like Dream can see it, because as the piglin stands, it’s quite hard to look at his face, but Dream can feel Techno’s smirk. As he presses his back against the wall, focusing on what little heat the sun provides while they’re this close to the polar zone.

“Do you think it has something to do with the things the higher beings told you? Like, the kid, and the problematic stuff that’s about to happen, and all that.”

He can feel his own face twisting into a thoughtful expression, considering it.
Could it be? The higher beings didn’t tell him shit. They never did, staying away from all trouble that raised on the overworld, every single problem falling on him as a new responsibility.

What he knew was because he came from the future.

Could it be, then, that what had happened on the forest had something to do with the time travel?

(A cold feeling on his chest.

A warm feeling on his chest.

Had he imagined feeling something like that…?).

“Maybe. I don’t know, and there’s no way to actually be sure, it’s not like i have the higher beings on speed dial. Actually, I don’t have them at all. Which sucks. The least they could do is give an explanation.”

It’d be the fair thing, after abandoning him on a world that was falling apart, people killing everything and everyone on their way, the egg corrupting everything it could find, without instructions or help, alone to deal with everything.

A small laugh snaps him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, true. It’d be nice if we had something to guide us instead of really weird things just happening.”

“At this point we don’t have control over stuff. Stuff just happens and we are lie, ‘oh, so this is what we’re doing now?’ and just roll with it.”

Techno gives a small huff that sounds really similar to a laugh, and Dream smiles at that.

Closing his eyes as the wind blew, refreshing him, Dream sunk into his own thoughts.
Whatever had happen at the forest, it definitely wasn’t good. It wasn’t bad, considering it kinda saved his life, but the broken arm wasn’t exactly a good thing either. But those feelings, that… apparition of himself.
Could he even call it that? The memories of being both versions, of going both ways, yet knowing that was virtually impossible. Was that a bug? a glitchy zone on the server?

Was it the egg, messing with his mind once again?

(Bad empty eyes staring at him in his nightmare, the stench of blood filling his nose as the cold hands of the demon grabbed him with a painful grasp by his face.

“No matter where you go, no matter what you do, I’ll be right behind you, Ender.”)

“-after you went missing. I will literally never forgive you for making everyone in the server wo-… and there you are, doing it again. Jesus, Dream, focus on the conversation for a minute. Did you hear anything of what I was saying?”

Dream pressed his lips but then smiled. “Do you want me to be polite? or honest?”

“I don’t really care about politeness, Dream. I feel offended you think so highly of me, like that.”

He chuckles. “Fair. So, i didn’t hear anything before me going missing.”

“Oh. Great, amazing. I don’t know how, but you came back exactly after i said the most important thing, and i don’t really feel like repeating it all. Bad luck.”

“Oh, come one.”

“Nope.”

“Techno!”

“Not happening.”

Dream pouted, turning his head to the side after a few seconds, when he realized that his attempt for pity was useless thanks to the mask, instead giving a loud sigh. Techno laughed at his reaction, but nothing more was said, the piglin choosing to focus once again on the task he had set for himself, and the admin focusing on the hybrid, relaxing at his self-imposed resting time.

Only when the sun started to set did the peace get disturbed once more. Techno grabbed his things, putting them aside in different chests, while the green hooded admin just stretched, standing from the position he had been sitting for hours already. Helping to drag the potatoes to the shack the hybrid resided at was mostly a courtesy, but he didn’t mind doing it. Once they got there, and after the things were on their place, he waved goodbye to the pink-haired man, and left, feeling happy, like he had recuperated something really important.

________________________________________________________________________________

It feels nice to have George and Sapnap back. He does slip up from day to day, calling them friends. Sometimes he can feel them staring, but that’s just a reminder not to get over attached again. It’s fine. It’s fair.
He can, at least, have some time with them before they start to actually hate him. When they start to abandon him.

That’s why he drags George to L’manburg with him, telling him his idea in the way, hopping the older man won’t get mad at him, and finally breathing again when he doesn’t.

Walking through L’manburg was now it’s own interesting adventure.

First, because, god bless them, Nikki and Eret start so speak more and more with him, and usually getting him to help them on whatever they need, Dream putting no fight as he is dragged into cooking and sewing sessions, or just enjoying the afternoon, watching as the stars come out on top of Eret’s house.

Second, because Tommy stops glaring at him.
Actually, Wilbur does too. He even waves at Dream from time to time, and he’s starting to become suspicious of whatever is happening.

And Third, because it feels like he is at hell when he is trying to avoid Karl. And Quackity too, because for some reason, Quackity doesn’t like him. It’s not hate, not yet at least, but it’s obvious the dislike the smaller man has for him. Not that he cares. As long as the timeline is safe from chaos or disaster, he’ll take almost anything against him with a smile.

(Not the prison. Never the prison. He’ll die, and endure torture, and seal himself with the egg if that’s necessary, but never the prison and isolation. He won’t survive that twice).

It’s at this point, that he has made a choice. A choice regarding kingship and future, and as George smiles at him, he takes a deep breath before knocking at the door.

Eret opens, their face twisted in slight confusion.

“Dream? George?”

“Hey Eret. Uh… can we talk?”

Eret seems to think it for half a second before opening the door more, leaving space for the two men to enter the house.

“Yeah, sure. Come on in. Do you want anything to drink?”

As the he entered, Dream answered. “No, no. It’s fine, thanks tho.”

“I’ll be staying outside. I’m buying some cookies. See you later, Dream,” George waved at him, and then turned to Eret. “Later, Eret, sorry for intruding.”

“Oh,” Eret muttered. “It's fine. See you later, George.”

As George walked away, Eret closed the door. “Have a sit, then,” they gestured at the couches.

Eret took a seat, and Dream followed.

“Is everything okey?”

“Yeah! yeah, i just… I have something important to talk with you, if that’s okey.”

“I… of course?”

“Eret, this is… is something really important, and I need this to stay here.”

The opposite frowns. “I…”

“I know. This is sudden, I understand your distrust, but believe me. Nothing I’ll say will bring damage to L’manburg, or anyone in the Smp. Actually, this choice was made with everyone in mind. I thought this to be one of the best choices.”

Eret maintained the silence, staring at Dream with interest.

“Eret, will you be the king of the Dream Smp lands?”

“What?”

“Listen. Originally, I thought of George for the position. But I know George is… inactive. And I don’t mean it in a bad way. I know George won’t get in trouble, but I also know he won’t act when needed. I need someone who will act, and I know for a fact that you’re like that.

“You value people over places, over things. You’re smart enough to know when to step back and when to step up, and you get things done. But you also listen.”

He pressed his mask against his face, the comfort of it pressing against the flesh helping him focus on what he was doing.

“Of course this is not an obligation. It’s your choice. I won’t force you, or try anything against you if you refuse. And you’ll have the time you need to make your choice.”

“…why?”

“hm?”

“I… This is… an enormous change on… everything. A sudden, extremely big change. And I feel like this came out of nowhere.”

Nowhere being the whole future, clearly.
Dream doesn’t hold it against Eret. They don’t know.

“I’ll explain you. Will you listen?”

Eret nods.

“Something big is coming, Eret. I can’t explain exactly what, because I’m not sure myself, but… I feel like something bad is gonna happen at the elections of L’manburg. It’s like the earth it’s calling me, warning me, that something will happen.”

He felt bad for lying, but as the weeks passed by, the elections were starting to come closer. It was weird. As if the whole timeline had moved closer in time, dates changing without care, and he had heard people talking in the streets about elections that were being planned at the time.
The plan was simple. If he could gain back his king, he could move slightly more freely during Pogtopia’s times. He continued.

“As such, I’m forced to act. I cannot act neutral if I’m acting as the Dream Smp leader, and if things get political, i will not be able to interact with the members of the presidential staff without getting the whole server involved. I need someone who takes care of the lands in my stead.”

“Why not Sapnap? Or Punz?”

“Sapnap is too chaotic. I love him, don’t be mistaken, but if he had more power he would destroy a lot of things without a doubt. He also gets into trouble a lot. I had to stop him from hurting Nikki’s fox a few days ago. If I let him be a king, we would enter an actual war against L’manburg eventually, and that’s kinda what I’m trying to stop. Punz is good, but he is more of a mercenary. He is not really interested in power as he is in materials, and i respect that.”

“If you’re looking into outsiders, then Bad? Ponk?”

(Empty eyes looking at him. An old crown that used to belong to one of his friends on top of the head of the corrupted demon, red surrounding them).

“Bad… I… I don’t think he’d be interested. He spends most of his time with Skeppy, and even if he were, he is too… chill? It’s… It’s a little complicated.”

Eret rubs their chin with a hand, the other going through their hair in a swift motion.

“Nikki would do an awesome job, too.”

“That she would, but I’m choosing you.”

They sigh. “Dream, I don’t know. This is a little too much.”

“Like I said,” Dream stands up, “You have time to choose. I’ll give you until the week before L’manburg elections, if that’s okey with you. I think that’s about a month from now? two months?”

“A month and a half.”

“Oh. A month and a half then.” Dream walks towards the door, before stopping, looking at Eret. “I know it’s a tough choice. I won’t hold it against you if you say no.”

“And… if I said yes… What would I do?”

He thinks a little.

“Well, you can stay living here, at L’manburg, if that’s your choice. But I’ll get someone to make an actual castle, which you can decorate to your liking. You’ll have to make some decisions and stuff, and take care of the political shit with L’manburg. The Dream Smp land mostly manages itself, so you wouldn’t have a lot of work. You’d have control over construction regulations, negotiations… I’ll step in to make recommendations if you need me to, but won’t meddle as long as you don’t abuse the power.”

Eret stays silent, as if weighting their options.

“Like I said. You have time to make your choice, no pressure. There isn’t a consequence if you realize you want nothing to do with the Dream Smp, and you’ll have the freedom to step down if it’s too much for you.”

“I… I’ll think about it.”

“Sure!”

“Thanks Dream.”

Dream nods as he walks out the door, leaving Eret on his own.
George is waiting outside, eating cookies. The two start to walk towards the community house.

“Everything okey?” George asks once they’re outside L’manburg walls.

“Yeah, i asked them. They aren’t sure, but it wasn’t a no, so there’s hope.”

“Cool. Anything else?”

“No?” Dream frowned. “Why are you so calm about this?”

“About Eret having the crown? I don’t know. I really don’t care. Kingship it’s mostly being the kingdom’s pretty face most of the time, no?”

He huffs a laugh. “Of course you’d think that. Is that what you would do if I made you king?”

“Yeah, duh.”

“See, this is why I chose Eret,” he pokes at George. The other rolls his eyes.

“Well, at least I don’t have to do anything. Did you know Quackity came and asked me if I wanted to participate with him on the elections?”

Dream stops abruptly. “He did what?”

George doesn’t stop, but he walks slower, so Dream has time to catch up with him.

“Yeah! He got all weird, saying the elections were coming and he needed someone to join him in his campaign.”

Dream makes a face as he starts walking again, following George.

“And?”

“Well I told him no. I really don’t care about whatever L’manburg has going on. I’ve had enough of their politic stuff for a lifetime. Got nothing against them, just not here for the dramatics. Although I’m all in for more cookies.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t even notice he had been holding, and nods. “Wise decision.

“I have a feeling that the elections are gonna be a shit show.”

Chapter Text

Quackity isn’t a good person.

Not that Dream is one either, to be fair.

He sees how Quackity rises with Schlatt on the original timeline, and he sees everything that goes after that. How he manipulates Tubbo, and how he takes Wilbur’s place at using Dream as an escape goat for everything that happens to him.
He honestly doesn’t care.

Then Quackity visits.

And he lied about having no more visits after Tommy’s death, but that’s only because Quackity isn’t really visiting. As the lava flows on the background, and his throbbing back scorches at the forced touch against the obsidian while Quackity steps on his stomach, Dream can only remember those days in parts.
Most of those ‘visits’ are only fragments of painful memories of actual torture. God knows it took months after his escape for Dream to stop dissociating whenever someone stepped in his room, and even more time for his limbs to work decently again.

No one at the base ask. Most don’t care, and who does care, already knows.

Eventually, everyone learns the reason as to why he hides his body behind layers of clothes, and why he flinches to sudden movements, to loud noises. It’s mostly thanks to Techno and the sparring that he starts to move on.

When Ranboo helps him escape from prison, Quackity and more than half of the residents on the server are already corrupted. After the failed raid, and during the scavenging through the land, they find Las Nevadas. The uncompleted buildings and destroyed places that Quackity had spent months working on alone.
He bits his lip as he walks over the desk that had most of the papers and ideas that the business man had, and gulped as the mocking smile that Quackity had adopted as his mark stared at him from the filled calendar that repeated the same sentence over and over again, most of the days already crossed out.

‘Visit Dream’.

The words ‘Torture him’ on the bottom of the page.

He did felt bad, for Quackity, and all that he’d been through. Dream hadn’t been the best of people, Dream had deserved each of the days that he had spent between the obsidian walls, alone, and hungry and hated by every single person he had ever met. He deserved the pain and the hate that Quackity leaked every day. Quackity however, did not. No one else did.

But seeing now the cocky smile on the other’s face, Dream didn’t felt a lot of that guilt. Actually, a really ugly feeling bloomed in his chest, frustration and anxiety rising quickly, making it hard to breath and to talk.
This Quackity looked nothing like the one that had been a merciless mauler, and yet the panic that flooded him when he first entered the room had been the same.

“So, you’ll be the next president?” the words came from him, choked up.

“Yes! Everyone will see!! Quackity, the second president of L’manburg!”

He mused, uninterested. As the current leader of the Dream Smp, he had to help during the preparations. He didn’t need to attend to the announcement and all those things, but part of the agreements were that he was to help supervise the current affairs on the new city.

That includes speaking to every team participating in the elections.

Well, technically that’s the king responsibility, but even after a week, Eret hasn’t even mentioned the proposition. Which is fine, really, it is their choice after all. Still, the help during these elections would’ve been heaven, giving him more time to interact with everyone and to reunite the materials for the sealing. And to avoid Quackity for longer.

Thankfully, Eret’s lack of response is only about the proposition. Dream had been worried that Eret would stop talking to him, uncomfortable about the petition that had been done to them the past week.
Or worse. That he had told Wilbur, probably starting a problem between them. Nothing had happened, which reiterated his opinion that Eret was an amazing choice for the king and for a friend.

“Are you even listening, man?”

Dream snapped his head to look at Quackity, who was frowning at him.
(’It’s not him’, Dream tries to remember. The lack of scars, the lack of hate in his eyes. ‘It’s not him’, he repeats, and can’t believe it, but still forces himself to continue as if Quackity didn’t have a horrifying effect on him).

“Sorry, zoned out. What did you say?”

“I asked if you know anything about the other contestants I can, you know, use.”

Rolling his eyes and leaning on the wall, he shook his head a no. “I don’t know enough. And even if I did, it’s kinda illegal to tell you that kind of stuff.”

“Owww.” Quackity grumbled. “Come on! Just this once!”

“Like I said, I don’t know, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

The black haired man rolled his eyes, frowning in frustration, but not saying anything else. (Quackity doesn’t notice how he freezes at the angry expression that the other man wears, and he’s thankful). Well, for a few seconds. The nice peace that came with silence broken as Quackity started rambling once again.

“I can’t believe Wilbur is going to run again. And with Tommy as vice-president, too.”

“Hm? Why not?”

“Well it’s obvious they’re not made for the position! Tommy is always getting in trouble, burning shit and making a bad name for the nation. And Wilbur is just so dumb! He is an okay president, sure, but he isn’t a good one!”

Dream frowns.

“And you’re better?”

“Of course! The best!”

He hesitates before speaking; “Quackity, I don-”

A knocking in the door interrupts him. He stands up, (he breaths), leaving the other to his own with the papers scattered on the table, and opens it. Nikki smiles at him.

“Hey Dream! Fundy and I need some help with the papers. Could you help?”

Turning his head slightly to look at Quackity, who waves him off without even looking at him. Sighing, he looks at Nikki once again.

“Sure, let’s go”

He closes the door behind him, following Nikki.

“Thanks.”

She giggles. “It’s fine. I imagined you would be stressed with Quackity. He is… and interesting person, for sure, but a little too excited, and I think this is the first time you’ve met him!”

Nope. Nuh uh. The thousands of scars that stayed in the future, the grip that the younger man voice has on him, almost like a spell; fear burning his chest as the memories of the prison echoed in his brain.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he mutters, taking the hood off his head, massaging his temples. “He is just a little too much for me.”

The screaming, the desperation, the begging directed at both Sam and Quackity.
It sure was more than ‘a little too much’.

She hums softly. “He is ambitious. It isn’t a bad thing, but… He should be a little more... calm, about that.”

“He is also badmouthing Wilbur and Tommy,” Nikki makes a face, and he continues. “I know Wilbur and I aren’t on the best terms, but I respect him. I don’t like how Quackity talks about them.”

“Well, there’s not a lot to do. I just hope he doesn’t win. I don’t know how he would run the country. I don’t mind Wilbur winning, but Quackity… I just… I don’t think that’s the best choice.”

And Dream agrees. Not only because he knows how this is gonna end, although that plays a big part on that, but because he didn’t like Quackity at all. Feeling protective over Techno, who Quackity tried to kill, and over Tommy and Wilbur, who he was now insulting, (of himself, who suffered months of torture and isolation, abided by Quackity and his obsession with power).

…Was it even fair? Did he have any right feeling protective over people he fucked over? People he tortured and hurt and destroyed?

He didn’t know.

____________________________________________________________________________

He is on his way to the community house when -
“You know this is a perfect chance for you to have a nicer life, right?”

The voice makes him stop. He turns around instantly.

“Karl?!”

The contrary smiles at him. Dream knows, just because the contrary man has two arms, that he isn’t from the same time period the Karl from last time came from. He is definitely from before.

He feels slightly disappointed, but still smiles, runs and hugs the other man.

“God, I missed you!”

Karl hugs him back, laughing, Then Karl takes his mask off. Dream doesn’t fight it.

“Jesus, Dream, you look so tired!” The time traveler complains once they start to separate. Dream scoffs. “Hey, don’t scoff at me. Have you seen your eye bags? Are you sleeping, Dream?”

“Yes, mom.”

“Well, young man, you should start to sleep more. I feel like I could kick your butt right now.” Karl frowns, thinking of something, and then smiles. “Actually, do you want to spar? I probably could!”

“No”

“But-”

“N, o, no”

“okey, okey,” Karl chuckles, giving him back the mask.

As Dream puts it on, but at the side, leaving his face to the open, the two start walking, following the path that Dream was originally following.

“So, I think around this time you already had one visit, right?”

He nods. “Yeah, a few months ago, just a few days after I got here, I think. I-” Frowning at the realization, he looks at Karl somewhat disturbed. “I actually can’t remember exactly how that went.”

Karl shakes his head. “It’s fine, time travel does that. That’s why I got you the necklace.”

“Oh! Yeah! The necklace saved me from a panic attack! How did you do that?!”

“Oh, well… I don’t know! After the whole mess in the in Between, I had to look around the realm, and found some things. There were a few of that necklace thrown around the place. It’s actually what’s been helping me too,” The time traveler says as he takes the object out of his shirt, the string carrying both two rings and a pendant similar to Dream’s. “The in Between has been both a blessing and a nightmare, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh, I also felt a really weird sensation. I think the necklace took- or irradiated? uh, one of those, heat.”

Karl stopped, looking at him like he had just said he supported Schlatt’s ideas, and Dream stopped with him.

“What the honk?”

“I’m serious! A few weeks ago, I had a breakdown over- some- some dumb thing- don’t look at me like that, okey? It’s fine, I controlled that.”

“Dream, I’ve been here at least one more time, probably a little farther in the future. I know you weren’t fine, and I’m sure it wasn’t under control.”

“Oh, sure, you know about that incident but nothing about the necklace.”

“Well you didn’t tell me that! How am I supposed to-? … oh… wait.”

The sudden change on the Time traveler’s expression made Dream’s guts twist in anxiety.

“Dream, did I already told you about the Time Breaks?”

He shakes his head a no. “Last time you came you mentioned them, but time was up and you went back to the future, keeping your secrets.”

As the other man rubs his chin, in a thinking gesture, Dream looks around.

“Why?”

“Because I came before, and you already knew, so it was on a closer future. That’s probably the reason why you didn’t mention the necklace then. But I, as in my actual, present person, didn’t know about the reaction the necklace had on people during these… Breaks.”

His brows rise. “And future Karl, the one I saw, did know about the reaction. He mentioned it. He just forgot to explain what the Breaks are.”

“Yeah… This is probably something I should investigate, then.”

Silence fills the area.

“Uh…” Dream starts. “You… you probably should explain. You know, before you go back.”

Karl jumps. “True! Okey Dream, listen clearly, I will only say this once.”

“Wait, why once?”

“Drama purposes. I’ll repeat in the future if you forget, but don’t interrupt my dramatic speech now. Jesus, Dream.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles, sheepishly.

“Okey; A time break is something that happens when two different options or more can be taken, so the timeline splits into two, each one following an option, and both happening at the same time. It’s usually something that people doesn’t even realize that it happens. It’s really normal, and that’s what makes the different timelines exist.”

“Wait, hold on. Different timelines?”

“Yeah. Time fluctuates like a river, Dream. It isn’t something that stays straight constantly. There are some instances in which, yeah, some changes happen. And that’s what we’re using! That possibility to create change, so we can save our timeline. What we, time travelers do, is go to the past or the future of a line, and re-live that in someone else’s life. Or, as I’m doing right now, travel to a point in the timeline, and follow it, like an upper being would, but that wastes a lot of energy, so I can’t stay for long.”

“I… I don’t think I understand.”

Karl sighs. “See, our current timeline is divided in two. The original, in which everything already happened and where we’re stuck with the egg, and the current timeline you’re in, where changes are happening quickly.”

“I… You came here. Those times you left me and Ranboo alone… you were following me in this timeline.”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Nothing changed in the future.”

“…Yeah.”

“…Then, how is everything changing? Things are already different. Future you- and... the elections, and- No war broke out. The elections are coming far sooner that they came in our time and-”

“You’re on another version of the Timeline, Dream. Of course you’re fixing things! But this is a line where you chose to do things different. Whether that’s how things were originally or because you are changing things in your travel. But this is what I’m telling you. This whole thing-” Karl says as he extends his arms and spins, “this is an enormous Time Break. There were two choices to be made, and both happened, on different lines. You understand?”

“Two things happen at the same time.”

He remembers looking at himself for a second. The two different feelings in his chest, the two different memories happening at the same time.

“And then they fuse, right?”

“Yeah! Exactly. It’s kinda random. One of the lines becomes the main, the one with higher probabilities of happening most of the time. And some of the things that happened on the other line just… stick. Stay around. I’m guessing you already went through a small Time Break?”

“I broke my arm and died. But I also didn’t. I thought for like a week that I was hallucinating.”

The time traveler laughs. “Yeah, a panic attack and you got lost for a day, right?”

“Half a day! It was half a day!”

Karl laughs even more, and, unable to stop himself, Dream does too.
Then, after a few seconds, they stop, once again their faces serious.

“What will happen with you? and Ranboo?” His throat closing on him, he chooses to turn his head so Karl can’t look at his watery eyes. “Why me, then? If anyone was to have this chance, maybe Ranboo. You. I was the worst choice. I’m a monster.”

The time traveler presses his lips together, and looks to another side too.

“Once the timelines fuse, you won’t need to worry about whatever’s happening on the other line. Things will fix themselves… and… maybe. Not me, for there can’t be two Karls on the same space for a long time without repercussions, and I also can’t use the present’s Karl body as a vessel as you’re using the present time Dream. Ranboo would’ve made a perfect choice, a brave, strong and smart soul. But you’re a powerful man, Dream. It had to be you. No one else can stop the egg and the destruction of the lands but you.”

Part of him breaks at the realization that it wasn’t out of pity, or love. At the knowledge that the only reason he was spared of the future and given a second chance at fixing everything, is because he is the only one who can carry with such a big responsibility. It’s because he is the starting point of everything, and as such, he had to be the ending point of it too.

“Of course.”

Karl looks at him, somewhat hurt. He feels like that’s unfair. Karl may carry a responsibility as the time traveler, but he didn’t carry the burden Dream did.
Not the blood on his hands, not the guilt that eats him and won’t let him sleep, not the heavy souls of those he hurt, or the screams that he heard daily, begging him to stop, to help, to save.
Karl didn’t carry the weight of the millions of failures Dream did.

And it was unfair, but unfair of him, to feel so bitter about his friend who was good, and who was helping him, and who forgave him and all of his mistakes.

“I’m… sorry.”

Dream looks at Karl, and smiles. “Don’t worry, I understand”

He does. He was left behind by the higher beings to do this, to protect the land when the superiors had their freedom and power to themselves, leaving him alone to deal with everything.
It was only fair he did, no matter how long it took, after he fucked everything up.

“Once the timelines collide, and the Time Break is over, the future will be safe. Everyone will be. You’ll be a hero, Dream. The one you were meant to be.”

He tries to refrain, but nothing can stop the bitter laugh that flow from his mouth.

“Don’t you know, Karl? It was never meant to be.”

The other man looks at him pained, but doesn’t stop from smiling. A single hand grabs him softly by the shoulder, and as his eyes tear up, he accepts the parting embrace as a portal open, both cursed by the knowledge of what the bright colors behind them means. As Karl steps away from the admin, and towards the new formed door, Dream asks:

“How do we know the main future is the one where we win?”

And Karl stops. The man opens his mouth to answer, and with the ambience sound of the forest as background music, the answer now being his only hope.
Once he is alone, the mask goes back to its rightful place, and the Admin continues to walk down the road. And once he reaches the bridges that give way to the community house, once he hears his two friends– teammates– bickering just a few meters in front of him, and once he fares farewell to the hiding sun, it feels like maybe there’s a little more than only words as a hope for the better future he was fighting for.

Chapter Text

He hears Tommy, a lot, even if the younger boy isn’t supposed to be near his room while he is prisoner on the base. The screaming is constant, and no matter how ‘careful’ and ‘stealthy’ Tommy claims to be, there’s always at least one broken thing at the end of the week.

He laughs to himself as he hears Tommy screaming as Technoblade yells, threatening to stab Tommy for breaking some chicken eggs, and he smiles when Ranboo and Tommy on the same corridor his rooms is, bickering about who is the best in whatever they’re doing at the time.

And it’s so nice to know that despite what he did to the kid, Tommy continues to grow. There’s trauma, and fear, and it shows as his voice quiets down when he passes in front of Dream’s room, and how Tommy is the only one that does not visit while he stays on the base.

The day of the raid it’s the first time they look at each other in more than a year. Never really talking, and always apart, at least two people in between them, generally Ranboo and Puffy.
As everyone gets separated on the badlands, Tommy and Dream end up fighting together.

It’s hard at first. Tommy tries to command him, and jumps away when Dream tries to touch him or even get near him. But as the minutes pass, they get in sync with each other, dancing around the place in a dangerous symphony of clashes between weapons and thumps of hits against shields. Dream covers Tommy as the younger runs between the possessed citizens of the Smp, and stops him when he goes too fast, and blocks even with his own body when attacks get too close for comfort to the child.

Then, they reach the egg.

It’s clear they’re the first to get there, because the only one in the room is Bad.

And Skeppy, a frozen red figurine made of diamond, watching from the top of the egg, immobile.

Dream stops Tommy from dashing like a mad man, hoping to get the upper hand, and to use the element of surprise, disappointed when Bad turns around to look straight to them, a toothy and creepy smile plastered on his face.

“Ah! Dream. Finally! It’s been far too long, my friend.”

Whatever that is, it has Bad’s voice. But it isn’t Bad. The white eyes pierce through their souls, and Dream catches on quickly on that.
Tommy doesn’t.

As Dream pushes the kid back, several vines smash through the ground, going up on the place where Tommy had just been standing. An attack that would’ve killed the kid, and an attack that incapacitates Dream.

“Run, Tommy!” He yells, hoping, pleading.

Instead, the blonde kid bares his teeth, and stands, and screams as he runs towards the demon with an axe in hand.

“Tommy-!!”

_______________________________________________________________________________________

“–shouldn’t you be helping Wilbur with the speech?” he asks, not really looking at the kid, instead focusing on the papers in front of him.

‘This is so boring’.

“Who cares? Jeez. It’s just too boring, doing all these dumb things. I want to do more important stuff! And there’s still a whole month left before the stupid elections. Why are we even doing this right now?”

“Because!” grumbling as his head turns to the kid, exasperation bleeding into the answer, “Wilbur asked us to do this today so you two had time to prepare some other stuff later. Shouldn’t you be a little more worried about this? Quackity, and Nikki and Fundy are also competing against you two.”

“Quackity is alone, he can’t win like that. And we’re clearly better than Nikki and Fundy, no offence to Nikki. We will crush them”

Dream rolls his eyes, looking once again to the page in front of him. He felt so annoyed, having to do this stupid paperwork instead of doing something else.

“Stop that, goddammit.”

“Hm?” He stares at Tommy, confused. “What?”

“Your stupid leg! stop moving it, it’s distracting me!”

“…no”.

“Hey!”

Just to spite the kid, he starts moving the other leg too, although a little slower.

“You bitch! stop moving your leg!”

“Or what?”

“Or-! uh… I’ll beat you up! you fucker!”

“Ujum.”

“I’m serious! I’ll beat you up so hard you’ll go back to your dumb communal house crying!”

“I’m sure.”

The chair Tommy was using screeches as the teen pushes it away, standing. The boy’s steps echo in the room, the strength behind them obvious, trying to be far more intimidating than they actually were. As a hand touches his shoulder, (and Dream freezes for a second, more focused on the sound that on who was actually doing it, for a second back on the badlands, surrounded by vines, and injured, and unable to do a thing as his old friend murdered a child-), the door opens.

“Are you-… Tommy, what the fuck are you doing.”

“Wilbur! I… uh…”

Wilbur sighs, deeply, the tiredness of a father sticking to his voice. “Tommy, get out.”

“But I-!”

“Out. Now. Tubbo was looking for you, so you can help him with the bees.”

“What? But I’m helping here!”

“Now you’re going to help Tubbo. Go.”

The blonde boy loudly curses under his breath as he walks to the exit, just glaring at Dream as he leaves.

(Childish hate, frustration. No poison behind the eyes of the kid. Dream has seen what the kid looks like when he truly hates. What the kid stares like when his blood boils and he grinds his teeth and as the knuckles on his hands turn white.
There’s no real hate in this one, just annoyment, just frustration).

“Sorry about that,” Wilbur mutters, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “He is like that.”

“I know; he’s been in the Smp for a while. As long as there aren’t any conflicts, I don’t mind.”

Wilbur nods, taking seat on the place Tommy was before. The older man sighs once again, starting to arrange the papers the kid had been looking around before, organizing everything in his zone.
Dream felt slightly ashamed. His zone was a disaster. Organized so he knew where everything was, but a disaster nevertheless.

“Is this- is this candy? Where did he even got candy? Ugh. It’s all sticky! goddammit, Tommy.”

He can’t help but snicker at Wilbur’s reaction, but says nothing more, choosing to continue his very important work, or at least, acting like he was continuing.

“Hey, Dream…”

Looking up from the papers, Dream stares. “…yeah?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask… why did you accept? L’manburg? … How did you know?”

Ah. There it is. Apparently they’re finally on friendly enough terms for Wilbur to feel like Dream would answer the big questions.
He kind of wants to be surprised that the president caught up so quickly, but Wilbur had always been really smart. Tapping sounds came from the table as he fiddled with his fingers.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Come one, Dream. Don’t play dumb. You knew what we were looking for. The talk about walls, and the changes you did to both the treaties and the constitution. You knew”

Well, he did.
The window was open a bit, and the sun heated his back. Dream rose his hand, tapping his mask with a single finger. It was kinda comfortable.

“Well, I know a lot of things on the server. It’s my job, as the admin, Wilbur.”

The other man scoffed, like he was deeply offended by the answer.
“I’m sure. But that doesn’t explain your reasons. Why are you even helping us with the elections?”

“Why not? The smoother this goes, the less problems I have to fix.”

“Oh, fuck you, green bastard.”

“You know,” He mumbled, his eyes back on the table. “You apologize for Tommy, but I’m sure he learnt a lot from you.”

Like making chaos, and not owning up to it. Abandoning people and making them less. Villainizing whoever they didn’t like. The only difference between them was that, despite both of them being utter, egoistical jerks sometimes, Tommy was true to himself.
And don’t get him wrong, Dream cares a lot about them, even if their broken friendship got him into prison, but he wanted to be honest, at least to himself. And that was his honest opinion on the two citizens of L’manburg. Was there more? Yeah. He admired Wilbur intelligence, and talent, and loved whenever the older man would perform a song, unable to hide the excitement that the musician brought to him whenever he made a move on the chess board.
And Tommy! Brave, resilient Tommy, who was a chosen hero and who leaded people to survival and growth, and who provoked union.

“Wh-” The other man sputtered. “Ugh. Whatever.”

“okey.”

And so he keeps writing, his thoughts kept to himself and his focus on the pages.

‘Permission to yada yada windows’.

‘Permission to yada yada on the candles’.

‘Permission to yada yada the lake’.

‘Permission to-’.

“You got lost. Right? A little while ago.”

The musician’s voice sounds softer, almost like a whisper, and without the fury that was latched to it just a few minutes before. Still, that doesn’t stop a nasty feeling from filling his chest, the frustration of being unable to finish the damn papers finally settling after the new interruption, but as he swallowed his anger, he moved his head in a nod.

“Yeah. Woke up on a polar zone. Really interesting day.”

“You ran pretty far away. Almost left the mainland from what I heard. Although we were barely planning the search parties when Nikki pinged us with the announcement that you got back to the community house. We were relieved.”

That is a surprise.

Wilbur sighed.

“I don’t know if I’ll win the elections,” the man said as he stood up, suddenly walking to Dream in a slow motion. “But whether or not I do, I want to… be on better terms with you.”

A hand is extended towards him.

(In a different timeline, the same hand is extended towards him in a different situation, a different date, and place.
The shadows that the trees provided, hiding them from the faint light of the afternoon, the craziness in the brown eyes that shone almost like rubies despite being nothing like the gems, the desperate voice laughing as he proclaimed the words that started the demise of both madmen.

“I want to be your vessel”).

“I want to be your friend, once again.”

Should he?

He knows that this is the best option. That having Wilbur’s back will probably help him with keeping tabs on the musician’s mental health should the elections go to shit once again, and that everything would be easier once he got into Wilbur’s good graces. And yet… the memory of screams, and betrayal, of death, and blood and pain. The feeling of desperation, the sad eyes of another admin, the told story of a musician that rose as a hero and fell as a villain, and everything that came with that.

The beginning of Dream’s end, too.

Can he accept a token of friendship after everything that Wilbur had done to him? and after all he had done to Wilbur and his family?

A glint of… something, shines on the eyes of the older man. An announcement of what’s to come, a warning that there’s more to this proposition. And Dream probably should stay back, should play it safe; but that was never his style, and if he wanted any chance at defeating the Egg, the best thing he could do was get more allies.

After all, the saying goes ‘go big or go home’, and Dream’s home is long gone, in another timeline, blown up by himself and finished up by the monstrous egg that grew roots on the server; there was only one option.

He shakes Wilbur’s hand with a smile, despite his expression being hidden by the mask. Wilbur’s smile extends slightly, too.

“I’m glad, we’ve reached an agreement.”

Wilbur steps back, breaking the gesture between the two men, and sitting back on Tommy’s place, leaving the silence to form once again, which Dream embraced eagerly.

He knows this dance, and wonders which piece is him. A pawn, perhaps? But he holds too much power to be something so easily disposable. He isn’t something as important as the queen, either, as Tommy holds that position in the board, easy to manipulate and use and in a position that gives both him and Wilbur a surprising amount of power.

Was Wilbur even playing chess?

Dream was. And as much as he disliked using everyone as pieces, it was a necessary evil if he was to stop the egg once and for all. But that didn’t mean that everyone was playing the same game.
Quackity, for example, was playing on bets, on risk. Asking him if he could provide information on the rivals, forming a political party on his own and inviting George all of a sudden. Quackity was playing poker.

What was Wilbur playing?

________________________________________________________________________________

“Dream… can we talk?”

It was already pretty late.
He’d lost some more time talking with Wilbur about some preparations for the elections after they finished signing the permits and petitions, so he started to walk to the community house a lot later than planned.
That’s perhaps one of the reasons as to why the petition surprised him. It was well past ten, and while Sapnap was used to staying up late, George would already be heading to his bed. Seeing both teammates standing on the door in front of him was not something he was expecting.

“I mean, sure. What about?” He asks, only stopping when he is directly in front of the two other men and neither move. “Is it something important?”

“Hell yeah it is! Dude, are you okey?”

“Sapnap,” George scolds, sighing. “Look, Dream, we don’t want to overstep, but, you’ve been acting really weird, and... well, we’re obviously worried!”.

Oh. “oh…”

“First the sudden change of heart, and we spoke with Bad and he recognized the small panic attacks you’ve been having, and the sudden overworking and-”

“Guys...”

“No!” Sapnap stops him. “Do not. I know that tone. You’re not going to deny this, Dream. We’re seeing all of this happen, okey? We know.”

“It isn’t that big of a deal.”

George scoffs. “You’re joking. You’re actually joking. You had a breakdown a few weeks ago, but this isn’t a ‘big deal’? Come on, Dream.”

“I’m serious!”

“Oh, shut the fuck up. That’s the worst lie you’ve told in years. I swear to god, Dream.”

Dream recognizes the pressure on his chest, and the sudden rise on his breathing. He gives a step back; every single sense he has screaming ‘run’. A yelp escapes him as Sapnap grabs him by the wrist.

The memory of Sam, Punz and Sapnap dragging him to the prison burned in his mind, open spaces and beautiful sceneries built by the members of the server turning into obsidian walls and lava, not stopping until the first cells are far gone and the only thing left is a single room surrounded by layers and layers of a burning liquid that had been a relief toy for the first months he had been stuck in Pandora’s Vault.

“Listen to me, can you hear me, Dream? In for four-, stop. Breath. Dream, listen to me. Focus on my voice.”

Another memory, one in which they take him and Ranboo to a small jail on the badlands after they let themselves be captured, an ocean of red and nether surrounding them as they walk, yanked by their captors by some cuffs that are too tight, the expressionless faces of old friends staring at him like he is nothing more than a circus animal, (And god, doesn’t he feel like one?), observing him, going through him like little needles, and he just wants them to stOP–.

“Dream!!”

Blinking twice, he’s once again in front of the community house. George is still alive, Sapnap isn’t looking at him like he wants to kill him, instead a worried expression painted in his face. Ranboo is still injured, still in the future, far away, nowhere to be seen. Karl is still running away for his life, alive, in the future, far away, but he is also just a few kilometers away, building a pretty house in L’manburg, and it didn’t make sense but he was back home despite the fact that he watched every single place he called ‘home’ burning down to the ground, nothing more than fallen pawns on the big scheme of his battle against the egg. And the egg… the egg... there’s no egg.

(Not yet anyways).

And… why is he on the ground?

“Once more, in for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight.”

Unconsciously, he follows George’s instructions. This time, is not the necklace that help him calm down. Sapnap is no longer grabbing his wrist, instead holding both of his hands, rubbing them in a soothing way. He is breathing just fine. The beating of his heart is somewhat irregular, but it’s also a lot more relaxed that a few minutes ago. He just had a panic attack. In front of Sapnap and George. Over the younger man grabbing him by the wrist…

He’s fucked.

“Dream, do you hear me?”

He nods, knot on his throat impeding him from answering vocally. Sapnap presses slightly his hands in a reassuring way, but at the moment, everything feels all but reassuring.

“Good. Are you better? Can you stand up?”

He isn’t injured, as far as he knows. He presses his lips with little strength before opening his mouth and realizing that, indeed, he cannot answer, the anxiety’s hold far too strong for him. He then tries to stand up, taking back one of his hands from Sapnap, but holding the younger man’s other hand with little pressure, just so he knows that he doesn’t want to let go completely.

Once he is up, the teen just beside him, he looks at George.

“You can’t… talk?” The older man asks him, frowning, uncertain.

(And it hurts. He can’t help but feel oh so guilty for hurting George once again. For letting Sapnap down once again. For making his friend angry, and disappointed.
Always so disappointed of Dream).

“It’s okey. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, Dream. I bet everyone in L’manburg can hear you overthinking. Chill out dude, it’s fine.”

Sapnap voice is softer, he notices. Like a mom talking to a child who just scraped their knee. George turns to the door and opens it, entering the house and holding the door for them. Sapnap goes in front, his hold on Dream pulling him along.

Once they are inside, Sapnap directs him to the small living room they’ve settled, sitting after him and next to his side. George follows them after making sure the door is properly closed for the night, sitting right in front of both men.

“Dream, I want you to hear us out. I- We don’t know what’s happening, and we want to help you. Please…”

Dream is surprised at the dim tone that Sapnap has when speaking to him. It feels so different, the direct opposite of the voice his Sapnap used to have when speaking to him, especially after Tommy convinced him that Dream didn’t care.
For a second, Dream could even separate each timeline, as if he was living different lives, as if they were different people.

(Weren’t they? Hadn’t the changes been already done? Wasn’t Dream already part of a different life, with different people?
People change so easily, like tides in the ocean. One single choice can change lives, or destroy them, and he knew that because he had acted as the puppeteer in his original Timeline.

Can they change his life?)

He lifts his mask, just enough for his mouth to be visible, a major show of trust towards two of the people he cared about the most.

‘I love you guys’, he mouths, and means it.

George sighs, not satisfied but definitely far more relaxed than before.
“You’re not escaping this, Dream. We’re gonna talk.”

Sapnap agrees. “Yeah. We’re gonna talk the shit out of this. We’re gonna talk this so hard your smiley face is gonna fuse your face forever because no stupid feelings are gonna exist in you, and–”

“God, Sapnap, shut up, that’s so dumb.”

“No! you shut up, you’re dumb!”

“Whatever, i don’t care.”

“I don’t care that you don’t care!”

A noiseless wheeze escapes him. Hope, he realizes, is not as bad as he thought it was.

Chapter Text

He doesn’t really like talking about the past. It has everything to do with his actions, and every single consequence that came with the choices he took.

Especially, he hates talking about Wilbur and Tommy.

It’s something everyone avoids after the prison escape. Puffy doesn’t say a thing about it, choosing to talk about his bad actions and karma the first months, and switching into things more easy to talk about, like the weather, or whatever books he had been reading at the time. Then she asks him one time, after the Raid and before the base is bombed, but ends up leaving in frustration when he chooses not to talk.
Philza hates talking about the dead man. The only time the topic is discussed, it’s when Philza makes a comment about the corrupted people, and how the red had transformed all the blue in Ghostbur corrupting what little consciousness the specter had, forcing it to stay in the rain. That was how one of the other members of the resistance had died. Dream finds him once, after the Raid, crying over the dead members of his family, and decides that it isn’t his place to intervene, so he doesn’t.

Techno never cared enough to bring the topic up, and just mentioned offhand after the Raid, talking about Phil’s breakdown, before sighing and going even harder with the training.

Karl never asks, but when Dream talks, he does listen.
He listens about the friendship they had, and the betrayal, and how Dream didn’t want to be the bad guy but he followed Wilbur’s steps and entered the mold made for him, and accepted fate as an inevitable thing.
He listens the apologies the admin screams and he listens to the broken sobs of a broken man who tried to do the best for his world and failed miserably. The apologies to lovers and friends and families who perished because of idiocy. Apologies for a man who could’ve been saved and was left to rot in madness until his death, and for child who lost all sense of childhood and hope, and whom lost his live to both sides of a chess board in the most tragic of settings.

And after a while, Ranboo does ask.
Dream hesitates, but after a few seconds, the words come out of his mouth.

“Ranboo, do you want to hear a story?”

And Ranboo, hungry for an answer, says “yes” in the softest of voices.

The admin closes his eyes, wondering where should he start, and after a whole minute, he tells the story, as if he had been born to be a story-teller instead of a soldier. As the water of the river rushes, and while the bright sun keeps them warm, Dream talks about lost stories and new points of view.
And when he finishes, he stares at the hybrid, who looks directly at his uncovered face, at his exposed eyes. The hybrid gives his opinion.

Dream laughs.

“Karl told me the exact same thing. And I agree, of course. Violence should’ve never been my first option, but I’m… impulsive. And dumb.”

“Super dumb.”

“Super dumb.” He agrees, looking at the sky. “But you know? If I could go back, and think about what I want to actually do… I would save Wilbur.”

“…Even after what he did?”

“Wilbur manipulated and hurt and destroyed, and i followed his steps. When Ghostbur appeared, and he was forgiven, i was casted away. I hated it for so long, you know? One time I almost made Ghostbur disappear in the rain. But I think, that the only thing I wanted, was a way to redeem myself as Wilbur had. A way to be a different person. Of having the forgiveness of the people I loved, and couldn’t have. Now that I have the chance to be myself again, to try to fix my mistakes, I understand that we both pushed each other to extremes

“As he pushed me into being a Villain, I pushed him into his obsession. We both pushed each other into what would eventually transform into our downfall. If I could change anything? I wish I could’ve stopped myself from pushing Wilbur like that. I still don’t agree with his actions, but the two of us rushed into a war that divided everything into factions. I lost a friend, and like that, I also lost myself.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?”

The top of the tree was comfortable; a lot more than the ground was, in his opinion. But Wilbur hadn’t asked for his opinion, and the musician was staying on the ground no matter what. Not like Dream was trying to get him to climb the tree and sit beside him. Nope.
He was just trying to be as annoying as possible.

“I already told you no, green boy. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Nope. Today is my official day off. Nikki threatened everyone into leaving me alone.”

The guitar made sound as the musician stroke the strings, tuning the instrument.
“Then shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I am! But this is so boring,” he whined, laying down. “Please, I will do literally almost anything.”

“What about shutting up?”

“Almost. Anything.”

He could feel Wilbur’s eyes rolling, but that only made his mischievous smile extend.

“Why don’t you go help Tubbo with his bees?”

“Do I look like Tommy, Wilbur?”

“Jesus Christ, no. That would be terrifying.”

“Then why would to think I’d fall for that?”

“I don’t know. I’m getting kind of desperate, you know?”

“You want me away that badly?” He asked, in a fake, hurt voice.

Wilbur shrugged.

“Humph. Well, now I wanna stay even more!”

The other man groaned. “Are you actually 21? Because I’m starting to doubt it.”

Dream wheezes, and afterwards, chooses to comply. Once the silence fills the place, Wilbur starts to strum his guitar, slowly forming a melody. Dream recognizes the notes from the song Wilbur wrote as his country's anthem, and softly, as to not be heard, he hums along.

“I heard there was a special place
Where men could go and live the rest of their days”

Dream blinked, stopping his humming. He didn’t remember the lyrics, but those weren’t.

“Peace and freedom and lots of friends
Well this place is real you needn't fret
With Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, and Eret,
It's a very big and not blow up L'manburg”.

Dream stretched up. “New song?”

Wilbur huffed, but still answered. “Yeah. L’manburg needed an anthem after all, and we created it with peace and freedom in mind, so…”

Dream nodded, absently.

“Do you like it?” Wilbur asked. “Is still not finished, but I’m getting there.”

He’s surprised that the musician asked him for advice, finding it in himself to smile. “It sounds amazing, Wil…-bur. Wilbur.”

He hears the other man chuckling. He barely notices his own hands un-tensing at the friendly gesture.

“I never apologized, did I? For starting so much drama over something like… that.”

Dream sighs. “It’s fine. Already happened, and we’re well past that.”

Wilbur wasn’t one to apologize, and the sudden change of heart was low-key creeping out Dream. Well, ‘low-key’. He was really close to a freak-out, but he’s gone through things far more confusing than a man changing his way.

“Still. We were friends, and I ruined that. Even when I tried to paint you as the bad guy, you still… helped us. It means a lot. So I want to apologize for what I did.”

Not that he was the best of friends.
His obsession with maintaining peace and protecting the egg’s seal transformed him into an actual monster. As he screamed his lungs out during the confrontation, daring the musician to move on with his plans of building a new nation, and as he turned, and schemed and used and manipulated and hurt everyone he loved for the sake of maintaining the peace that he had broken.
All had been his fault.

Had he chosen the better path, and done all of this the first time…
Maybe all of this could’ve been avoided. Time travel and death, and the guilt of failing everyone once again… But is no use crying over spilt milk.

He winces slightly as his feet touch the hard ground, all the weight of his body adding to the gravity, reminding him that he has to roll after falling to avoid hurting the knees. The grass feels soft against his hands as he sits down, just besides Wilbur, who looks directly at the eyes in the mask and smiles.

“We’re working on fixing it. Let’s keep up.”

“Will that truly be enough?”

“Well, if not… we’ll just make it!”

“Thank you, Dream.”

“Hey! You-”

“Suck it, green boi!”

“Come back here! Give me back my bag!”

“Catch me, then!”

“Wilbur, when I catch you…!”

_____________________________________________________________________________

“You’ve been acting weird”.

It’s Tubbo, Dream notices. The kid isn’t looking at him, instead focusing on some of the bees that dance around the teen. Dream is resting against one of the several houses that are part of L’manburg, and it’s the younger man who approached him. The sun is already low in the sky, but there aren’t any orange stains painting it yet, and any responsibilities he had for the day are already done, a single cookie, or at least what’s left of it, hanging in his mouth.

Slowly, he engulfs the rest of the cookie, clearing his throat before answering.

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“That! I mean, it’s not a bad thing! But it was really weird. I heard what happened during negotiations, and Tommy told me about the community house and stuff. And then you went and got lost, and we all got worried, but no one told us how you got lost, and! … Augh, I don’t know…”

He opens the paper bag filled with cookies that he bought from Nikki, taking one and extending it towards the kid, who hesitated a second or two before diving his hand inside the bag and taking two of the pastries, before retreating it and biting into one. The two eat in silence, watching a few clouds as they dissolved into pure nothing.

“Dream… are you trying to… trick us?”

He shakes his head a no instantly. “No! of course not, Tubbo. Why would you think that?”

“I… I don’t know. Is just… Well, I’ve seen you before, and… something tells me that peace wasn’t you first idea over the whole L’manburg thing, but you still ended up helping! And that’s great and all, but! … I just… I don’t want this to blow up in our faces. Everything has been so nice. I want everything to stay like this forever, and I’m afraid this is all just a big, weird thing so you can get the upper hand and beat us later and-”

“Tubbo, Tubbo, stop. Hey, stop,” he interrupts the teen, leaving the paper bag leaning on the wall as he stands and quickly kneels near the boy, patting his back with one hand, leaving the other in the open for Tubbo to see. “Breath, it’s fine.”

“Sorry, I…”

“I understand,” a whisper comes from him. “Don’t worry, kid.”

Dream sits, uncomfortable over his last position, and Tubbo adjust into a better pose, leaving a little more space for the older man to lean on. He can’t stop himself from smiling as he reaches out for the cookies, grabbing the bag and opening it for both Tubbo and him to feast on the poor, helpless pastries, nothing more than the smell of the sugary food and some smoke from a fireplace of a nearby house, and some birds and crickets singing in the background, to accompany them.

“Promise me?”

Dream blinks once, looking at Tubbo, whose voice sounded so low the admin thought he might have imagined it.

“Sorry?”

“Promise me, that you’ll keep trying to maintain this peace. That you won’t betray us. I’ll do my best to help too! But will you still promise?”

And heavens, if the kid’s intentions weren’t enough to convince him, the look in Tubbo’s face sure did. And so he extended his hand towards the kid, the pinky lifted. The worried expression in the kid turning into excitement and happiness.

Tubbo beamed, accepting the gesture and joining it, intertwining his finger with Dream’s.

“I promise, Tubbo.”

“Thanks!”

Neither moved from their places, instead choosing to look at the sky as it changed like a canvas in the process of being turned into art, some white spots appearing silently, bold strokes of orange emerging one by one, the determination of both males to protect their home only leaving a nice atmosphere around them.

________________________________________________________________________

“Dream.”

He turns back, looking at Eret, who looks pretty nervous, but still standing proud.

Turning his entire body around, Dream smiles. “Eret! Everything okay? Do you need help with anything?”

“No! uh… well, yes? kinda. Will you… help me collect some vegetables from the field?”

“Sure!”

Even after Nikki’s intervention, he’s still running against time.
The materials for the resealing are already distributed on the chests that reside on the community house, spares ready should anyone take them by accident, so that isn’t what worries him.
Even with the free time, and the orders to stop accepting more work and petitions, (not that it was necessary; it was weird nowadays when people asked for help, everyone in on the ‘make Dream rest’ movement started by Nikki), he still found a lot of things to do. Like annoying Wilbur, (a really important thing to do), or help Tubbo, Purpled and Tommy to collect materials for their creations, annoying Techno (something just as important), doing some favors in L’manburg and the Smp land, and surprisingly, spending a lot of time with George and Sapnap.

(It’s hard to remind himself that he shouldn’t. That it’s better to drift away before they leave him behind and it’s far too late to bottle the pain away.

But living like this once again… joking, and enjoying his friends… his family…

God, is it that terrible from him to be a little egoist and try to hold onto them as long as he can?).

In short, he wasn’t anywhere near dropping dead of overwork, but he could still try to catch a break.

And yet…

The field shined as the sun stood right over it, most of the crops in almost perfect condition, ready for harvest.  Some tools lay around the entrance, and Dream takes two, handing the other to Eret, who catches it mid-air. He opens the gate and steps in, Eret following, behind by just a couple of steps. The hoe rolls smoothly on his hands as he plays with it like it’s a drum major baton, quick moves and spins, a finishing motion, stomping it on the dirt under them.

“Are you now flexing your abilities, Dream?” Eret asks, a mocking yet fun tone in their voice. “I might feel offended; you know?”

“Why? You’re still cooler than me, Eret.”

The other laughs. “I mean, yeah, but still.”

Dream smiles at them, sighing after a few seconds of creeping poor Eret out with the random stare. ‘And hey, dumbass, you have the mask on, remember that?’.

“Just so you know I’m smiling under the mask.”

Eret shakes their head, a chuckle escaping their mouth. “I figured, don’t worry.”

He nods, turning around, getting ready to pick some vegetables.

“And… how much do you need?’

“Oh! not a lot. I have some more in my house, but I needed things for a presidential meeting this weekend… I’m helping Nikki with the cooking” Dream can’t see their expression, but hearing a hum, he deducts that Eret is thinking. “You are coming, right?”

Chop, chop, chop. Cutting through the stems of the different plants is easy, so he moves quickly around the crops. “I kinda have to. It’s super dumb, but I think this is my only responsibility as the Dream Smp leader right now.”

Eret doesn’t answer, so Dream stops and looks at them, worried to have said the wrong thing.

“Eret?”

“Oh… Don’t worry! I was just thinking. So… over the meeting. You’re going, and…?”

“Well not much, really. I’m supposed to help with permits and stuff, mostly to look out for any attempt of cheating, or whatever. I was afraid Wilbur looked at this like I was trying to control them, but it seems like all went well.”

“He did,” Eret admitted. “But after the first weeks, with all you did for us, and how you helped us while building L’manburg… well… He thought it was unfair to doubt you like that. He’s still wary, but we all trust you. You’ve done… a lot. For all of us.”

He stays silent, but nods.
Is not that Eret is lying. He has done a lot in the last months, trying to help everyone as much as possible.

(Part of him fears that this is another manipulation tactic. One so good that he’s fooling himself into thinking that he’s doing something out of the goodness of his heart. The terrifying feeling of being unable to recognize if the things he’s doing are because he wants to actually help, or if he is using them to feel good with himself, trying so hard to forgive the failures he had committed.

Or worse. If he is using them as pawns for the war, gaining their favor just to sacrifice them in the end.

What if he was? What if he had become a monster that horrible, tricking himself into tricking other people for an inexistent greater good? He didn’t want to hurt anyone. Not anymore. Not this time.

He just wanted to protect everyone.

And if he hurts them once again…

Well.
He won’t let himself have another chance to do it thrice).

“I think that’s enough!” Eret voice interrupts his thoughts.

An enormous bag filled with different vegetables weights his hand down, and it’s only then that Dream notices that he had zoned out while working. It doesn’t seem like he over did, so Eret probably noticed and stopped him just in time, before he took more than necessary.

“Everything good, Dream?”

“Yeah! yeah. Just zoned out. Sorry.”

“It keeps happening….”

“Sorry?”

“Oh! Nothing. Will you help me get everything home?”

“Of course! Come on, maybe we can get some cookies in the way.”

Eret laughed. “Aren’t you eating a little too many cookies, Dream?”

“Maybe? but they’re so good, I literally can’t stop”.

“You know what? That’s fair.”

The path to Eret’s house is straight, ironically, so besides carrying most of the collected goods, there isn’t a lot of trouble while they get there.

“By the way. The communication with the outsiders of the Smp is already up. Did you know?’

Dream stops for a second before continuing, forcing himself to keep walking besides Eret despite his confusion.

“Communication. With the outside? That’s… Do you know who did it?”

Even with the glasses covering the other’s eyes, the admin notices a glint of surprise and confusion.

“I see… Quackity did. Although Wilbur did help…” Eret clicks his tongue. “I’m not getting them in trouble, am I?”

“Nah,” Dream waves off, acting chill, even if his insides were screaming and trembling in anxiety. “I might have to speak with them about giving me a heads up next time, because this is a big thing. But I was planning on opening the lines soon, anyways.”

Eret nods. They keep walking.

(A knot on his throat makes it difficult to breath, heavy feelings exploding in his chest and stomach. He had been hoping to take care about that after elections, in an attempt to keep Schlatt away during the most important part, but Quackity proved to be quick to act, his plans obvious only to Dream because he already knew, but the rest?

Everything was going just exactly like the original timeline. And if his attempt of leaving someone else as the Smp ruler failed…

Oh god, what was he gonna do? Drag everyone into another war? At least last time they knew how to fight. They were already trained, ready.

Maybe he was overreacting. Would Schlatt even exile Tommy and Wilbur this time?

What if he didn’t?

But he didn’t have the time to be naïve about this. Naivety, he had learned, only brought pain and death and grief.

He had to stop Quackity and Schlatt from winning.

Maybe he could change everything, using plan B. Having to monitor everything the participants did, that couldn’t be so hard, right? Eret hadn’t accepted, so he had the chance to modify thing from another point and–)

“We’re here”

Dream stands right next to the door as Eret opens it, the wood creaking as it slowly swings inwards the structure. Eret is the first to enter the house, instructing Dream with a gesture where to leave the bag full of vegetables, and so he does, slowly setting it on a table as to not hit the contents.

He waves goodbye, not really looking at Eret, and goes to the door, ready to continue the daily walk around the small nation. As his hand barely touches the cold handle, Eret’s voice stops him.

“I will help accept. The king… Queen? Royal thing, I mean.”

A ping sounds, the transmisor warning him of the very thing he was afraid of. Still, in favor of paying attention to Eret, (the new royalty of the Smp), ignoring the vibration in his pocket becomes a decision. Turning to pay attention to the other, Dream tilts his mask slightly up, his big and soft smile out in the open for only Eret to see.

“Eret, I promised you. You just made my day.”

Eret smiled back.

“And, as I promised, I’ll have a big castle built.”

“Could I help?”

“As you wish, your highness.” Dream said, bowing slightly. “I’ll try to get someone to build it as quick as possible. I might have a person, already.”

“And… the process?”

“I’ll host a coronation, a week before elections. Will that be okey?”

Eret nods, although their expression is somewhat worried.
“Dream… if this puts me, in any way, against my friends… I’ll–”

“It won’t,” Dream lifts his hand, the position of oath. “I promise on my life. If i have anything to say about it, this will actually be the perfect position to help them should anything happen.”

The other hesitates, but extends their hand toward Dream, a friendly expression.

“Then so be it”.

Dream accepts the handshake, and last second pulls the other into a hug.

“Thanks, Eret. I really appreciate it.”

He takes a deep breath once he steps out of the house, all the anxiety that had been eating him during the walk to Eret’s house finally leaving him.

‘Jschlatt has been whitelisted’

‘Awesamdude has been whitelisted’

And as he finished reading the notifications, he had a perfect idea of who could help him with the building.

Chapter Text

As much as he knows he deserved every single day that he spent in Pandora’s vault, he also hates it, deeply. He remembers from way before the Dream Smp rose with a new name, having to deal with wars. Usually, he’d be an intermediary, or a soldier, or just someone who was passing by and got caught up in the middle of conflict. Before George and Sapnap, he never even tried to lead people in a conventional way, trying to be an external force, suggesting and helping and not really intervening unless things got pretty ugly.

He remembers watching people get tortured over information. And he remembers how the dealt with the lowest ranking soldiers and their attachments. People getting separated from their families, and executed.

Dream had always been nothing but an outsider to the people who suffered, trying to help but not wanting to get really involved, hoping to keep the egg as his only responsibility.

Once the lands were cleaned, and the people had gone away, Dream reclaimed the place as his. The tragedy that the egg had brought upon the realm finally sealed, protected by his own life. With no one in the way, and nothing to threaten his canon lives, Dream had decided to travel. And so he met wonderful people.

He had assumed, naively, that if he chose who could and not accompany him into his server, maybe he could stop chaos from sparkling and, as all wild fires do, burn every single thing in the Smp to the ground.

It was only meant to be temporary. Just a few adventures between him and his most trusted friends. The hot nether had recently changed, and everyone was really curious, so he thought that maybe they could use his abandoned land to investigate.

A few friends soon became a group, and friends of friends started to enter his lands. Then, popular people, acquaintances more than actual friends. He thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad.

War started.

Dream, overall, regrets that he is the one to start it; but how could he not? All he had ever known was war, and destruction. His best methods of protecting the land were violent, every single option he had painted by blood. Even after he had learnt about the seal, things didn’t become better. So when someone stood against him over something as foolish as drugs, he thought that answering violence with strength would stop it.

And god, wasn’t he such an idiot?

But once he started, it was too late to go back. People called him a villain, a monster, and he was too far in on the act to stop, so he continued.

He tried, so hard, to stop. And then came the demon that broke the seal, and more chaos, more deaths, Wilbur pushing him into place, the book appearing once again, Tommy taking the hero’s spot–

Against everything he wanted, he embraced his place as the villain, hoping that, if he had failed stopping the egg, the actual heroes could stop both him and the creature that had escaped.

He used what he had learned before the server had been reborn against Tommy, Tubbo, and every single other person he could reach, (never to the extent he had seen, scared of losing himself like the people before him had). And when he was against the wall, he kept pushing.

He wasn’t a fool. He knew the risks, but he hoped that once the egg was gone, they’d see what he was trying to do. His lives getting taken wasn’t exactly part of the plan, but it was fair, for he had taken many lives before. (He had hoped that one was enough. That someone would stop Tommy after the second. But when he was on the ground, begging to be spared, he had understood that everyone deserved redemption but him, and heartbroken, he had accepted it). Part of him hoping to be let out once it was all over, to be welcomed into their family once again. The other, fully accepting the closed walls of his cell as the only thing he would see for the next century. Maybe even the rest of eternity.

The lack of contact with other people was enough to drive him crazy, but Quackity?

He had seen every single form of torture, and yet, what the younger man had done to him… Dream could’ve never been prepared. Even after he stopped visiting, Dream spent most of his time dissociating and dreaming, attempting to forget, or at least distance himself from consciousness on the slight chance that Quackity came back.

(He remembers crying for Sam, and seeing shiny eyes staring at him from the other side of the opening, merciless gems that taunted him, the weapon that he normally wields in Quackity’s hands as Sam stands like a soldier, or a business man proud of a transaction, a deal).

He remembers Ranboo entering the cell, and he remembers that Ranboo had slapped him to bring him back to reality. And even then, a few months passed by before he reacted properly to people, to hearing steps and voices.

And as things were getting better, the raid happened.

Tommy died in front of him. A hero– fuck that.
A child. A fucking child who got dragged into war and idiocy thanks to Wilbur and him. The piercing scream, the fear, the laugh of the entity that stood right over the body.

Oh god, the begging.

Dream had failed once again.

____________________________________________________________________________

“Stop–. God fucking dammit, Dream, stop yawning, you’re making me–” Tommy stopped, yawning himself. “See? You did that, you fuck. Are you even sleeping? If you’re not, I’m telling Nikki. You’re gonna be in so much trouble.”

Dream rolled his eyes, focusing instead on the butterflies that passed by them.

“Hey, don’t ignore me, green bitch. Are you sleeping?”

“Yeah. why?”

“The fuck do you mean why? You passed out”

“Like, a month ago”

“But you did. Your weak ass couldn’t handle life, so you better be sleeping well, you dumb bitch.”

Was… was Tommy worrying about him?
That’s a real question. Sometime the way Tommy says things makes it difficult for Dream to understand the real intentions the kid has.

“Whatever, child”

“Hey!” Tommy yells. “I’m not a child. I’m a man! A very big man, actually!”

“If you say so.”

Tommy opened his mouth to answer, but ended up deciding against it, cursing under his breath as he continued building up his tower. Dream snickers, turning his head to a random place when the minor glares at him for a second or two.

Is not an obligation to stay with Tommy while the kid builds; he has already helped enough with the collecting of the materials that were being used; but he could finally stomach spending time with the blond kid without feeling like he might puke the past memories of death out of his guts, so he felt like it was something he needed to do.

Tommy was already pretty high up, jumping recklessly to put the next block and so. Dream wasn’t even that worried, but each time the kid stumbled, or got too near the edge, at least five years of his life vanished without a trace.
(Stopping Tommy from jumping during exile had been a thing. The dread that came with finding the tower, the minor nowhere to be seen or found, before the information that Tommy was, indeed, alive, had been a ride. The body that mocked him after he snapped in prison haunted him each night. And the screams? The blood? The begging during the raid?

Well, time cured everything, right?
And if he still felt nauseous while looking at the kid every day during his rounds, or during work… nobody needed to know).

He huffs, stretching slightly.
“You’re sure taking your time!”

“Shut up, Dream, I’m working.”

“I know,” he murmured to himself. “I’ve been here for the past two hours, watching you create that… thing.”

“You said something?!”

“Nop!!” The answer came instantly, the p popping in his mouth, a mischievous yet sweet smile barely showing by the edges of the mask.

Tommy looked at him like he had killed Henry for a second or two, and continued. Dream, fully intending on getting revenge for what Tommy did every single time the older man helped with papers and permits, continues talking.

“Hey. And Tubbo?”

“I don’t know. Do I look like a Tubbo-keeper? Go look him if you’re that fucking curious. Jeez, big D.”

“Dream.”

“Dream.” The kid answered to the reminder, most likely rolling his eyes.

He shook his head, sighing.

“By the way, have you heard about Schlatt? I know he entered the server, but I haven’t seen him.”

The blond kid stopped his building, and crouched, nearing the edge dangerously.

“Yeah. He’s a bastard. Wilbur welcomed him the first day and then the two of them started measuring–”

“Wow. Okey. I just wanted to know if you knew him. Dammit, Tommy.”

“Of course I know him! He and Quackity have been buddy buddy all week since that goat–!”

“Ram.”

“Ram, goat, bitch. Whatever. Since that Ram bastard arrived. I don’t know, they look so fucking sus, man.”

That’s a new development. Last time he had helped Schlatt after popular petition of letting him inside the server had reached him. This time, however, Quackity had been the one to send the invitation, (which wasn’t exactly against the rules, but he was surprised that the higher beings had jumped all rules about letting him control the whitelisting and just added people. Was it less work to do? hell yes. Was it helping him? Yes, and no).

(He wondered why the land started accepting people without him having a single warning. First Karl and Quackity. Now Schlatt and Sam. He was gonna let them in, anyways. Most of them.

But the sudden lack of warnings…

Maybe it was time he started to take it more serious).

“The point is, I fucking hate him. But whatever. Wilbur and I are gonna win, because we are the best. Fuck them.”

“That’s– Tommy goddammit!”

“Aaaaah!! I don’t have a bucket!”

“Why the fuck do you not have a bucket while building something that tall?!”

“Shut up and place water! shut up and place water!”

_______________________________________________________________________

Maybe it was every day that he came back to the community house, but that didn’t make it any less beautiful.

He left early morning most days, when the sun was shyly appearing on the horizon, a few rays hugging the outline of the building, and he came when the sun was right on the opposite side, parting away, leaving orange spots on the darkening sky.
Or late night, when the only thing illuminating the clearing where the house was built in, were the few candles on the bridges and the moon, stars shining over them.

Looking at the still standing building… It made him so happy. The old memories spent with his friends– team, and other people, like Alyssa, or Punz, overlapping with the new memories created on the actual timeline.

(They can hate him as much as they want in the future. If he was gonna lose everyone again, might as well be an egoist monster and spend as much time as he can with them).

The iron door-… Wait.

Iron door?

He stepped on the slab, the door opening, every single light off, leaving him almost blind in the darkness, only a person that was covered in shadows visible as they stood right in front of him. Panic settled quickly. (Maybe it was Quackity, staring at him as he entered the jail. It could be Bad, covered in blood and vines and a soft smile that felt anything but soft. Perhaps Sapnap, a sword in his hands, eyes looking for him, bloodthirsty).
As he entered the place, the door closed behind him, and he winced slightly, finally noticing that the door was only a way in. (He tries to focus on Karl’s method, but the lack of light makes it difficult to focus on something he could see, so he relies on words that came from George: ‘In for four, hold for seven, out for eight’).

The lights flashed, suddenly turning on, and he covered as much as he could of his face with a hand while his eyes got used to the new illumination. George stood in front of him.

“See? I told you we would scare him, Sapnap.”

“But now he can’t run!”

“Don’t you remember the thing Fundy said about the iron doors, dumbass?”

“Yeah! I do, George! But consider; now. He. Can’t. Run.”

“What if he had another panic attack?”

“Well! ... Hum…”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

“I’m… I’m sorry guys,” he interrupted the bickering, really confused, looking at both the googled man in front of him and the younger man who stood near the light switches. “But what the fuck.”

“Oh, hey Dream!”

“Don’t ‘hey Dream’ him after we basically trapped him”

“Get out of my case, George. You’re so annoying.”

“Well I–!”

“Guys. I’m serious. What’s happening?”

The two other members of the Dream team glanced at each other, Sapnap looking sheepish and George looking tired.

‘Exits’, his mind provided. ‘Look for them just in case the egg is-’ Gone. The egg is gone. Still sealed within him. Nothing to worry about.

(The memory of the few nights he has been able to sleep clings onto him. Bad’s bloodied smile and empty eyes staring at him, static filling his head. Few words told high enough to be actually heard.

“You can’t run from me, Dream. I’ll be there, to the end of the world, to the beginnings of time”).

The choice to check for ways out is totally his, and it has nothing to do with the panic or paranoia that settle uncomfortably on his mind.

“Well…” Sapnap started. “We… we did tell you that we had to speak, eventually, but–”

“You’ve been avoiding us.” George pointed out, bluntly.

He winced, but defended himself. “I have not”

“Oh, fuck off Dream. You’ve been actively avoiding us since L’manburg started, and I don’t know if you’re doing this on purpose, but I do know that’s the fact.”

Has he?
Like, obviously he distanced himself from them. Recently he has spent more and more time with the two other members of his team, but before that, he had tried as much as possible to stay away from attachments. He hadn’t really thought this counted like avoiding, but from their point of view… He could understand why they got to that conclusion.
Was this because he gave Eret the kingship?

Oh god.

Was he gonna lose them again… this early in the line?

“Dream– goddammit.”

He felt hands in his shoulders, and he stepped back, his back clashing with the cold material of the new door. The hands don’t back off. He slides slowly to the ground.

“No… please…”

“Dream?”

“Dream, follow my breathing, okey? Listen to my voice.”

Clenching his eyes, he focuses on the sounds. It’s slow, but he is not too far in the haze of the attack yet, so he can regain the calm, following George’s breathing.
He waits a few seconds, not wanting to see the frustration and disappointment in the faces of his friends– teammates, hoping that, if he waits, they both will leave him alone in his uselessness.

“Dream, can you look at me?”

He wants to shake his head. To deny the petition. But goodness, George’s voice sounds so soft, so caring, and worried, that he can’t. Gulping, he opens his eyes slowly, not ready to see the–

Worry?

Worried faces stare at him, eyebrows furrowed. George has his googles up, and Sapnap is the one who is holding him by the shoulders, the grip soft.

“Dream… please talk to us,” Is George who speaks, his voice almost pleading. “We don’t know what’s happening to you. We just want to help.”

“Please, dude. You’re our friend. We… We don’t know what’s happening to you. You started having sudden panic attacks, and you’re avoiding us and–. Please, Dream.”

Dream gasps, tears flowing slowly down his cheeks, the mask poorly hiding them as they slide to his chin, falling on the green hoodie he’s wearing. He tries to choke a sob, but it’s useless. Neither George nor Sapnap cry, but he sees their expression changing before both hug him, a different kind of pressure building on him.

“I’m sorry.”

Is a pathetic whimper, if he’s being honest; you can barely hear it, even on the empty and silent house, but to his two friends, it sounds as clear as the sea looks most of the time.

“I’m so sorry. For who I am and for who I haven’t become. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He can feel as one– or the two, he can’t really tell– hugs harder, the warm feeling invading him. As the pure grief he has held for ages now slowly drips out, leaking in form of tears, a new feeling fills him.
One he hadn’t felt in years, and that feels exactly like he remembers.

“I love you guys so much. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you again.”

Perhaps to them, his rambling barely makes sense.
He can’t see neither of their faces, but he can feel their confusion and distress, and it’s obvious that his words are guilty of their actual emotions. Maybe it is a terrible idea to give them hints of his origin, but is it unfair of him to be egoist just this once?
He never really got to apologize to either before the time travel.
He had been stuck in prison for a lot more than just a year, visited by no one but enemies and executioners or wardens. Even when Sapnap visited, they were no longer friends, and he was too injured to speak at the time, Sam’s punishment harsh on his body.

And once he got out, it was too late.

(He remembers the first time he got out of the base to help reunite food and water. Techno accompanied him that time, and it was early morning. They chose the community house that one time, Puffy mentioning the rebuilt that she had worked on. The place was… exactly like it was to be, and at the same time so very wrong. Not only slightly different, things out of place, emptier that it was meant to be. It was also up to the roof with vines and blood. The metallic smell filling their noses and making him gag slightly.

And in the middle of it all, George’s googles, just besides a bloody mush of flesh).

“I couldn’t protect you,” he cries. “I hurt you so much and then I still failed to save you.”

(The first time he sees Sapnap, is during the raid. Tommy and him get separated, but continue the mission nevertheless, covering each other like they used to do before the wars and betrayal and manipulation, almost reaching the central zone when Sapnap stops them.
The blaze hybrid stares at him specifically, growling and quite literally smoking, red eyes and vines warning them of the other’s condition.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve being here.” Dream murmurs.

Him– It. It snarls at him. “You’ve got a lot of nerve being alive, asshole.”

Dream gets stabbed that day, and only gets out because Tommy saves him. Then, he is immobilized, far more important for the egg’s plans than Tommy is.
Dream fails to save Tommy).

“I did so much harm and you guys still–”

He can continue. He chokes on saliva, and continues to sobs as he holds his two best friends closer.

“I’m sorry. I just want you here. I don’t want to lose neither of you again.”

Shushing noises come from Sapnap, not to silence Dream, but to comfort him. He knows he’s trembling, and he looks pathetic and dumb, and the mask might be badly fitted, but he doesn’t give a flying fuck. None of that matters.

“Dream, we don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about”

He snorts, George separating slightly as he warns; “Sapnap.”

“But we want you to know that we love you too, Dream. And we’re not leaving you. Ever.”

‘But you already did’, he wants to say. ‘I drifted away and you chose Tommy over me. A position over me’.

He doesn’t, but the uncertainty is still there, ominously watching over them as the higher beings are.

“Just talk to us, dude.”

“Talk to us, Dream.”

‘I did. I told you, I begged you, and you didn’t believe me.’

“But please don’t ignore us. Don’t evade us. We can’t help you or understand if you keep running.”

And–
And they’re right.
Isn’t that what he did the first time? Push everything away in case he lost to the egg? Avoid everyone and fit into the villain mold in hopes of letting them win over him and the egg?

Was that the reason he failed?

Because he kept running away from the people he loved– the people that loved him–, losing their support and help in the way?
He ended up alone.

“Talk to us.” George repeats, lower than before.

“I will,” he says, voice raspy after all the crying. “Not today, but I promise I will. Will you wait?”.

His two friends break away from the embrace, both smiling at him.

“Of course.”

No one mentions that his mask isn’t covering the right half of his face. At the moment, no one cares. It’s not important.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Sam! You’re here.”

“Well you said you wanted a big, secure castle, and that you would both give me the materials and pay me handsomely. How could I refuse?”

‘He’s not the warden’, he reminds himself. ‘He can’t hurt me. He won’t. He holds no power outside of the prison, and the prison doesn’t exist’.

‘Yet.’ Something inside of him whispers.

Yet. Yet. Yet Yet Yet yet yet yet yet yet ye–

“Eret is here, too, I see.”

Eret waves at Sam, a small “hey” coming from them but nothing more.

“Well, do you have an idea of what we’re doing? Or do you want me to make blueprints?”

“Eret and I–” He clears his voice, slightly ashamed of the crack that comes from him the first time he speaks. “Eret and I already went through the blueprints. We just need help and someone who knows what they’re doing with the Redstone.”

Sam laughs, receiving the blueprints from Eret. “Of course.”

(Dream is the one commissioning the castle, he should be the one to give the material and papers to Sam. And he can’t because he’s frozen in place, hands trembling even as he curls them into fists and presses the nails on the fabric. Whether Eret noticed or not, no word comes from them, and they take the initiative, walking and acting. A ping of guilt and gratefulness spark in his chest, expanding slowly, in silence).

“Punz is also helping us, but he might be late, he was running some errands. Sapnap might join too.”

As he says this, Dream takes a few stacks of material from his inventory, piling them up on a chest nearby.

“If we can, I’d like to finish this before the elections.”

“We still have three weeks, right?”

“Mhm,” he hums, looking at the already cleaned zone, kilometers of dirt wiped out. “How many time do you think it’ll take, Sam?”

“Hmm… I think we can finish this in two weeks. We’re four with Punz. Five with Sapnap. We’ll have to work non-stop from early morning to late night, but I think we can do it.”

“Well, then, people. I think is time to start working. “

Sam nods, taking some stacks and walking away, to the building zone.
Dream turns around, ready to go for more materials before starting, when Eret stops him.

“Are you okey, Dream?”

He blinks, confused. “Yeah? … why?”

“You froze up when Sam spoke and– Dream. If anything ever happens, or someone does something to you… you know we have your back, right?”

Does he?
Maybe Sapnap and George, but… Eret. The people from L’manburg…

(He wonders why he can excuse Sam and Quackity’s actions with a simple ‘is not them’, but he can’t accept that maybe everyone was also different from the past line.
Maybe it has to do with the fact that he’s the one who made them change, and he’s still a monster. Nothing good ever comes from monsters.

Right?).

“Thanks, Eret,” He murmurs, smiling softly. “But I promise you, I’m fine.”

Eret nods, the slight twist in their mouth warning him that they don’t fully believe him.

“Still. If you need help…”

Dream pats the other’s shoulder as he passes by, walking backwards as he waves dismissal at Eret.

“I will tell. Thanks Eret.”

What’s up with everyone and asking if he’s fine, by the way?

Chapter Text

There’s a flower forest, near the base.

A few months after the raid, when the battle injuries that slowed him down had finally disappeared and he was expected to help with scavenging for materials and food for the group, he saw it for the first time.
It was mostly composed by red flowers, some white spots appearing from time to time.

They can’t recuperate Tommy’s body, but there’s a gravestone with his name there, just besides another one that has Tubbo’s name, beside another one with the name ‘Michael’, and another one and-

As he walks over the empty path near the engraved rocks, he reads the names. Nikki, Jack, Sam, Connor, Fundy.

He hears something– someone– walking towards him but he ignores it in favor of standing in front of a plain rock that reads “George”. It wasn’t made by a professional, that much is clear, but he feels grateful that someone created one for his friend when he was still stuck on his room.

“We do one for every fallen we find,” Techno mutters, standing right by his side. “We used to do that for our pets, too, but after the mainland fully fell to the egg, we had to be more careful with what we did, so we reserved the burial site for people only.”

Dream feels himself nod, not fully registering the hybrid’s words.

“We… couldn’t exactly bring the body, because the eggpire was doing rounds when we got near to the community house, but we brought the glasses and some important stuff. It’s buried, tho.”

Static starts to fill his mind, a sob stuck in his throat as he kneels down, tracing the engraving with his fingers.

“You know… the marks. It was Sap–”

“I know,” he admits, voice cracking painfully. “I know.”

“Okey.”

It takes a few months before either of them go back to the base after the bombing. It’s far too risky, the vines slowly spreading on the new crater, and the knowledge that the corrupted people could easily be there, waiting for the survivors.

Karl and Ranboo are the ones to explore, far more familiar than he is with the underground maze. The only thing he does inside the base is walking to the room he resided in, taking a few books from the place, and after that, he sits near the stone markers, staring at them from early morning to late night, waiting for his friends who are taking materials and mourning inside.

When is finally time to continue their way, he bids goodbye to the graves.

Neither mentions the two graves that have Puffy’s and Philza’s names in them that weren’t there when they ran away. It’s probably for the better, anyways.

________________________________________________________________________

“You haven’t come in a while. I was starting to wonder if you had gotten yourself lost once again.”

“Ha ha,” Dream laughs in sarcasm, not a hint of real amusement coming from him. “Glad to see you too, bacon.”

Techno hums in a way that sound suspiciously like he’s mocking Dream, but at the lack of proof, the admin huffs and sits on his usual place, absentmindedly watching as the hybrid reaps the potatoes, comfortably leaning against a wall.

“So?” Techno asks. “What took you so long?”

“We’re making a castle. I’m coronating someone this weekend. We’re almost done, so they told me to take a break.”

“Heh? Coronating someone? And so close to the elections too. May I know what’s happening here? Or are you keeping your secrets?”

“If things go as planned, it won’t be necessary for you to know. If my plans fail, though, you’ll hear everything in a week or so.”

The hybrid muses, most of his focus on the harvest. “If you say so, nerd.”

He absolutely has a plan, and he also hopes it will work, because that’s the only chance he has of saving Wilbur.
The musician’s mental health had greatly increased (or at least it had been maintained) thanks to the lack of wars and betrayal, plus the constant support between countries, but if Schlatt got to the power, everything would go to shit once again. If Eret hadn’t accepted his request to take up the mantel of leader, the plan was to try and stop Schlatt and Quackity from cheating by supervising, but that had the problem that his meddling could be seen as trying to interfere with the new nation politics and it could start a war.

However, now that Eret was in power of the Dream Smp faction, he was free to declare himself factionless.

“Oi, Techno.”

“Hmm?”

“Would you like to invite Philza?”

All movement came to a sudden stop as the hybrid turned around to look at him, genuine confusion painting the other’s face at the sudden proposal. (Barely visible, or not at all, depending on how good one was reading Techno’s usually monotonous expression).

“Why?”

“Well, you two are close, right?”

“And?”

Dream shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought you might like having someone else besides me visiting you.”

“I’ll have you know I visit Wilbur and Tommy every now and then. And they’re far more annoying.”

The admin smiled in a cocky way. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“The low standards, Dream. They’re showing”

“Oh, shut up”

Raising the hoe, Techno cuts a plant in a swift movement, catching it just before it touches the dirt, and instantly putting it in the bag.

“And? What do you need from Philza?”

“Hmm? Wha– No. Techno, I’m serious. I thought It could be nice for you to have someone you actually tolerate with you. It’s your choice, anyways. I barely know the man, it’d be weird if I invited him for you, so whether he’s coming or not, that’s up to you.”

The hybrid scoffs. “That’s very nice of you Dream, but spare me the theatrics. I want reasons.”

Rolling his eyes, Dream answered. “Think what you want. I told you the truth.”

And that was that.

Dream backs down, comfortably resting against the wall once again, (and when had he straightened, tense and nervous about having to fight his way out of the farm?), eyes fixed on the hybrid whose shoulders quickly untensed as his focus went back to picking up the pace with the farm.

Some birds singing that comes from afar inspires the admin into slowly but confidently start humming. Whatever comes from his mind, not forming a real song, but just a random melody. Lyrics from different compositions may fall in the strings, but never form part of it. It feels liberating, for a moment, being able to stop all responsibilities and just rest. Dream didn’t understand the fondness Techno had for potatoes, (and honestly, after the time he spent in Pandora’s Vault stuck eating raw potatoes, he has no intention of trying to understand), but if the peace that came to Techno from doing such unimportant task was similar to the peace that came to him during this small moments of tranquility between friends, then he could comprehend it.

Techno might not feel the same loyalty for their relationship, but that doesn’t stops Dream from feeling free during their time together. Their rivalry, their friendship. It works very differently from the deep friendship he had– has– with Sapnap and George, or the family that Puffy shortly gave to him before the choice of following the path of a villain was even an option. But similar to those, it was something profoundly important for him, an anchor of sorts.

And even if Techno didn’t believe or trusted him, he was going to maintain this civility for as long as he could.

“When I came here, you told me about warnings from the higher beings.”

Well, if people let him of course. Something very difficult if everyone keeps questioning him over stuff he said in the spurt of the moment.
Because he has said very dumb shit while trying to hide his status as a time traveler, and if people kept pointing those out…

“Hmm? Yes, i did say that.”

“One of them was about Wilbur and Tommy falling.”

Shit. He did say something like that.
What the fuck Dream? Are you even trying to hide shit at all?

“Yup. I said something like that.”

Techno, who was already finishing up the last row of the field, mused, hand on his chin as he pondered the situation.

“Is it the elections? Is that why you’re planning and moving so much stuff around?”

“I don’t know,” He lied smoothly, pushing away the guilt that started to pool in his stomach. “But it might be, that’s why I’m preparing.”

“I heard that new people joined recently, but no matter how much I’ve visited that damn country, i haven’t seen this… Schlatt.”

“You’re not the only one.”

Techno picked up the bag filled with potatoes, rolling the hoe quickly in an unnecessary display of abilities as the tool disappeared, joining the hybrid’s inventory.

‘Could’ve just put it away’ he playfully thought, not really voicing it.

“Think he’s evading us?”

“Most likely, yeah. I’m supposed to help each party with different stuff, but Quackity insisted on doing most things by himself, and I’m merely an advisor, so I can’t interfere. Quackity was alone, so I think they’re together.”

“I could get rid of them and the government altogether, y’know?”

“Well, it’s not MY government, but I’m pretty sure Wilbur wouldn’t like you blowing up everything he and Tommy set up.”

“I really don’t care. Better that than them, really. They’d end up thanking me eventually.”

“Are you sure? Or will end up badly?”

Not a single word escapes Techno, but his stare feels like Dream’s being judged. The scrutinizing glare squeezes his heart, looking deeply in his soul, every single secret out in the open as if he was nothing more than an open book.

“Why would it end up ‘badly’, Dream?”

He wonders if Techno’s voices know about him and the timeline jumping. Is he an open book? because he really feels like one.

“I don’t know. Tommy sure is unforgiving.”

“How do you know that? You’ve known each other for far less than we have.”

Of course Techno never cares, but the moment Dream needs the other man to ignore all red flags, Techno suddenly decides that questioning the Admin is perfectly everyday-bonding activity.

“I’ve seen him, Bacon. Nice kid, but doesn’t forgive easily.”

“Hmm,” the hybrid joins him near the small building. “If you say so.”

__________________________________________________________________________

“You stopped coming for a few days. I was… confused.”

Dream smiles cheekily. “Oh. Did you miss me, Wilbur?”

“Fuck off, Dream.”

“Admit it! you missed me!”

“Fuck off.”

Dream found the place way before Wilbur did, but didn’t complain when the other man found it too and decided to stay, in favor of their new friendship (and mostly having the chance to rest on such a beautiful place). That’s how both ended up accompanying each other. Not always, of course, but often enough that it became part of their routine for a few weeks before the building team started the creation of the castle. Most days, it was just an hour or two before sunset. A little more during weekends.

After leaving Techno’s farm, Dream decided to have a small rest before going home, and so he ended in the small clear, where Wilbur already was, almost like waiting for him.

“You’re coronating Eret, aren’t you.”

Is not a question, and the sharp tone the musician’s holds in the phrase makes Dream slightly wince.

“I am. Thought it might be one of the best choices.”

Wilbur hummed. “They told me the next day you asked them about it.”

And he shouldn’t feel this betrayed because he knew this was a probability. The only thing that surprises him is that Wilbur said nothing about that.

“I screamed at them a little bit, and then I wanted to go to the community house to scream to you too. But then things started happening. Your support, your help. I heard of your distaste for Quackity after he talked shit about Tommy and I during a meeting. And I started wondering… what. What were you trying to accomplish with all that?”

Sighing, Dream straightens, the branch cracking softly under his weight.

“And? What did you discover?”

“Nothing,” Wilbur admits. “You’re acting suspicious, that much is clear. But I can’t understand the reasoning behind it, unless you’re just trying to play with us for a while before destroying all our things, all of our nation, in sick, twisted way of showing off your power to us.”

Ouch. Was that really what people thought about him?
He wasn’t good, of course. But that doesn’t mean words hurt any less.

(Monster, tyrant, villain, psychopath, crazy.
A few words of the many used to describe him in a daily basis. No longer tags to refer to him, but personality traits. No one in the server had ever been as deranged as the puppeteer that played the whole place from the backstage despite the fact that most of his plans were last minute and barely put up together, the heist of the moment forcing him to act in desperation as he tried to counteract the Egg’s advancement through his lands).

“But given the time you’ve spent helping and socializing with all of L’manburg citizens, and what I’ve seen… I just can’t see that happening.”

A pinch comes from his lips, some blood slowly dripping from the opening he had formed with the upper teeth, (when did that happen, anyways?).

“So help me understand, Dream,” Wilbur lowers his voice, tone almost pleading. “Why are you helping us after what I did?”

He blinks, confused.
And oh, yeah. Wilbur had started a smear campaign against him, and then started the little revolution and stuff, right?
(He knows Wilbur did. He knows this, he reminds himself from time to time that even after everything he did, he wasn’t the only one to start shit.

How had he forgotten that?)

“We’re friends, right?”

Wilbur stays silent.

“I already did too many mistakes, Wilbur,” Dream admits, staring at his own hands. (Dirty, leaking mud and gunpowder and blood, yet still clean). “I don’t want to commit them again. Being un-loyal was one of them, you know? This time around, I want to do the right thing”
He jumps down, rolling smoothly on the ground, then turning to the older man.
“Remember this well, for no matter what my mouth says, my allegiance stands first with my friends.”

There’s no answer, but something tells Dream that his message came across just fine.

The musician strums the guitar, both comfortably leaning against the tree.

_______________________________________________________________

The ceremony is the exact next day they finish the construction. Everyone in the Smp is invited, of course, but not everyone goes.

Schlatt, who he was hoping on catching, was nowhere to be seen.

Techno scoffed at his invitation, and refused with a “I’ll go if you want it burned to the ground with your new royalty under the debris”.
Fun stuff, you know the guy.

The minors won’t assist, either, because in Tommy’s words “it’s too boring for us to care”. Purpled just shrugs, admitting to have a creation in hold, and Dream waves him off, mentioning that he wants to at least see the kid’s work.

“Sure,” Purpled nods with a small smile on his face. “When you’re done with Eret’s coronation, ask me and I’ll send you the coords.”

“I will.” Dream agrees.

And so the rest of the morning, he spends it with the other members preparing the place. The construction is already done, and Eret is with Nikki, finals details added to the new royal attire.
The different members of the Smp help in the decoration of the place. Sapnap and Callahan help him with the red carpet as Punz and Hbomb hang the banners, railings barely holding them back as they hastily jump from place to place. Ponk and Sam help with some flowers over the place, vases attached to the pillars overflowing with color. George is late, most likely oversleeping.

By the time the sun is exactly on the middle of the sky, shadows barely forming as the light hits right on top of them, the place is ready.
Dream sends a message to Nikki, who answers just a second later with a small “we’re coming.”

People from L’manburg arrive, too. Jack isn’t slightly interested, so it’s kind of a surprise to see him on the back of the courtroom. Fundy is there too, not exactly formal, but close enough. Wilbur is also there. A pleasant but somewhat forced smile plastered on his face. It doesn’t feel angry, or threatening, the poor man probably preferring to keep working on the stuff for the elections that would take place the next week. Karl is there too, looking excited and curious about the whole ordeal.

(Neither Quackity nor Schlatt are there.
Perfect).

Bad, Skeppy, and also Antfrost are there too, all excited for the ceremony.

Then, Nikki enters. A beautiful and simple dress around her body. Eret is directly by her side, arms intertwine as the female guides him, proudly, as if she’s showing off her child in a dance, or a graduation. The older one seems to be slightly nervous as both walk to the front, where the throne stands.

Dream looks at them, standing to the right of the seat, scepter and orb on a small cushion. They look pretty good considering he made them yesterday. A smooth surface filled with small emeralds.

George arrives, coming from behind the throne, attire somewhat messy and googles covering his eyes as the older man as a grimace paints his face.

‘Is because he’s late’, Dream stops any intrusive thought from attacking him with those words. ‘He is frustrated because he doesn’t want to make a scene’.

That, of course, is not enough to barricade his head from doubts and fears. (’What if George is angry because Eret’s the royalty again? What if he feels betrayed and just abandons me once again? What if- What if- what if-?’). But it settles down as the smaller one smiled at him.

As Eret stands tall, in front of the throne, Nikki recedes, Dream hands Eret the relics, and George clears his throat while one of his hands tries to fix the robes. Dream can hear him cursing the cloth in his mind, and he has to suppress the laughter that wants to leave his mouth with a lot of will.

“Everyone, I present to you Eret, your undisputed majesty. Therefore, all you who are come this day to do your homage and service, are you willing to do the same?”

Everyone in the place, even him, answer at the exact same time, so unanimous that it almost sounds like a single voice. George then turns to Eret.

“Do you, Eret, promise and swear to govern the people from the Dream Smp, and the whole server as one, from whatever territory or faction they might serve, according to their respective laws and customs, always being fair to them all?”

Eret nods, hands pressing against each other in front of him, the act barely perceptible to whoever isn’t in front of them. “I solemnly promise so to do”.

“Will you, to your power, cause law, and justice in mercy, to be executed in all your judgments?”

“I will.”

From the right side of the throne, Nikki appears once again, a small cushion in her hands, which support the beautiful crown that’s filled with lots of different gemstones, (the colors matching the ones that Eret had used in the other timeline, the symbolism never lost to the admin).

“Higher beings, the crown of our lands; bless and sanctify this servant, out majesty, and as of today, set a crown of pure gold upon their head. Enrich their royal heart with your abundant grace, and crown them with all princely virtues through the eternity of the void, the end, the nether and the overworld. So be it”

It takes a few seconds, (and making a gesture towards the ground for Eret to understand), but as the taller one kneels, George settles the golden relic on the head of the new leader.

“Long live your majesty!” Dream screams to the top of his lungs.

Everyone follows the chanting, excited voices echoing through the room.
George steps back as Eret rises, and walks towards the throne, sitting slowly.
Callahan, Punz, Hbomb and Sapnap stand, their armors shining with the small rays of light that come from the different windows that fill the walls. The four walk to the front, and kneel in front of Eret.

“They’re your knights,” Dream explains, trying to clear the confusion from the other’s face. “They will be loyal to your cause as long as you’re fair and true to them.”

There’s a small space in the middle of the four man, and Dream positions himself there, kneeling as the rest did.

“As I am.”

Once the ceremony is done, everyone starts to leave.
He hears Wilbur congratulating Eret, and Nikki and Fundy excitedly talking with the new royal of the things they would do if they won the elections. The other members dissipate soon after. Sam and Skeppy leave early, and Karl disappears into thin air. Some of the knights stay to do rounds, and the rest congratulate Eret before leaving, Sapnap on the later part of the group.
George waves him goodbye and basically escapes from the place, pieces of the uncomfortable attire abandoned on the way as the poor man threw them away while in the run.

Is Bad who approaches him, Ant right behind.

“Hey! Dream! Long time no see! You’ve been busy. The ceremony was great, by the way!”

“Thanks, Bad. How are you doing?”

(He doesn’t freeze up this time.
Bad is safe. Bad is… Bad. That’s something he never thought he would see again).

“Oh, you know. Things are fine.”

“I’m glad! How are the Badlands?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about!” The other man seemed to think about what he would say for a few seconds before actually speaking. “The Badlands is a very small faction, and we are, for the most, independent. But different from L’manburg, we are actually affiliated with the main Smp, right?”

Dream blinks. “I mean, yeah. I suppose it is.”

“So I thought that maybe it would do us good to stay like that! Like a smaller faction?”

A light bulb shines. “Oh- so… like a colony? Wait- that sounds kind of weird… uh”

“No, no! That’s actually right– right? Like– We would be independent, but we will still be part of the Smp. Is that… am I making sense?”

“Yeah! yeah, I understand.”

“Okey! Good! I– we thought that this would help us a lot with organization and stuff, while still being helpful!”

“So, you’re declaring your loyalty to the Smp faction?”

“Yeah! As long as it doesn’t hurt anyone… We do!”

He visits Purpled, later, after Eret has been informed of the Badland’s choice, and finds himself helping the younger one with the materials once again.
He listens to the teen rambling about different things, most of which are tournaments of skywars , or just random ideas he has for other buildings.
A nice afternoon to relax.

Chapter Text

He has memories that date back to the origins of the server. Some are his, some aren’t. He is pretty sure that he has never been to The End in his own server, and yet, flashbacks come to him as if he had traveled through space and time to visit the end dimension just the day before.

He remembers befriending the dragon, and living between the endermen, who surprisingly don’t seem to care about trespassers or lookers and treat him as one of his own.

And the overworld, beautiful biomes surrounding him, millions of creatures living their lives with no one or nothing to interrupt them. The sun feels warm over him even when those days are long gone. There’s also water nearby, the flowing liquid making a lot of noise no matter how far away the source is.

He, too, remembers the Nether, way before the hell transformed into actual lands with creatures living there. He remembers vines and rock and lava and nothing more.

Then, a fight.
The opposite faction is red and bloodthirsty and determined to win as much as he is. He, on the other side, is green and sad and worried, and so tired of a fight that feels short in comparison of the rest of things he’d gone through.

He wins the fight, but not without loss, and he can’t remember what he lost, but is far too much to continue like that, so he stops.

The memories then become actually his memories. Like waking up in the middle of nowhere, his only clues are the intense feelings of responsibility and the reminders that come from nothing at all, but ask him to protect and serve and unite.

He travels for a long time, stopping people from getting killed, and nations from destroying each other. Saving kids and helping whoever he finds in his way is his job, and he feels comfortable with his position.

Then the egg comes.

One day, as he reaches the open walls of a rising nation, he notices small crimson vines coming from a nether portal. It catches his attention because it isn’t a normal thing; some creatures from both dimensions would enter the portal and travel to the other place, but plants? the actual land traveling without the support of any creature? It was unheard of.

But it was something else that set the alarms off.
The fact that, even when that was the first time he was seeing something like that, his stomach sunk. The sheer feeling of panic and realization, his body reacting to something he was supposed to know yet he doesn’t.

Things go downhill from them. Helping whoever he can turns into having to choose sides. Discussions quickly become wars, and families divide upon the dumbest things. People kill.
What was meant to be peace, a place to enjoy the niceties of nature and people, quickly transforms into a warfare between everyone.

He sees it in how easily people accept the corruption. How some promises of a disembodied voice become enough to betray the very people they lived for.

Is something he suffers when they recruit him in an army, hitting and torturing the younger ones to ‘discipline them’ (and he is considered one of the youngest despite the fact that he had been walking in that earth centuries before this people were even born). When he stays in a small village that soon after is destroyed, killed, burnt to the ground, his lover the victim of the fear of the people, (and he had been regenerating while everything happened, waking up to nothing but burnt grass and the smell of equally burnt flesh).
When he travels the seas, escaping from the past, just to find himself bound and abandoned by his peers, who he protected with all his might. When he serves under someone he calls a friend, just to be chased away, the promise of death forbidding him from going back.

Finally, he seals the egg.

But really, the egg is the winner.

Even if Dream isn’t corrupted, he’s still crimson. His sword, ‘Daydream’, meant to protect, dripped blood from the dull blade. Even the silk that covers his hands, originally black, seemed to be a deep red. The robes that identified him across the lands defiled by the stench and color of death.

He lost, just like the one before him did.
The victory is bittersweet, as the fight costed things deeply important to him.

The egg is gone, soul-bonded to himself, trapped in the almost unreachable void within his life. But it is now that he realizes that being the hero of the world brings nothing but pain and loss.

He walks away, leaving the server to its own devices; old constructions are overgrown with plants and wildlife, cities lost in time with nothing more than ruins to serve as a reminder to him only that they existed.

The people that he met, uninvolved with the past affairs of the land, are invited to accompany him into his server once he feels brave enough to go back. At first, only the closer ones. Alyssa, George, Sapnap, Callahan, and a few others.

When Tommy enters, Dream hopes it’ll be a nice experience.
That same night he has a panic attack, sudden memories from past conflicts attacking his mind in the form of nightmares, the kid taking place of corrupted people, friends taking the place of family who soon became foes.

When Wilbur comes, Dream puts his foot down. Is not that he wants war, but so far, violence is the only way that has worked in stopping people from killing each other. He has been in both sides. He was the kid who got beaten to the ground for back talking to a general, and he was the guard who stopped the sick man from entering the hospital. He saw his personal belongings becoming nothing but ash, and he turned his head around to evade the pleading eyes of the little girl who went through the same thing.
Violence, he learnt thanks to the people he had lived with, is the universal language.

There are exceptions, and he knows; he, too, was an exception. Violence never worked with him. No matter how many people put him down, and hurt him and tried to kill him, he stood up, and fought back. Sometimes picking up a sword and stopping another murder from happening. Sometimes, backing down and planning a revolution. Sometimes, looking at the egg, and accepting his fate as a seal.

He recognizes the same spark in Tommy, in Sapnap, in Karl.

That’s why he chooses Tommy to replace him as the protector of the server.

As the kid strides through the land, bonding with people, or forcing people to bond with each other, the blond achieved something that Dream never could; union.
The higher beings abandon him by the time Wilbur is gone, and the energy that inspired him into being the leader of the Smp disappears along with the hopes that were put onto him.

Is still his responsibility to stop the egg, but he has nothing to achieve such feat. So, as friends and family and even gods abandon him, the decision is made.
The seal breaks.
Bad protects the egg, and Dream is weak. Unable to kill a friend. Unable to stop the vines from spreading. He does what it seems to be the next right thing.

Teaching Tommy how to be a hero is hard.
The kid is hardheaded and his morals, despite pointing to the right place, are still tainted by the ideals of former companions.
It hurts to hurt him, but the younger would never see him as a friend, less of all a guide. Not after what he did to Wilbur, and to their nation.
It starts as something small. The exile was only to teach him about modesty.
But as the egg expands and rises, he grows desperate.

He plans, moving each piece into place as the board slowly turns against him.

In the last moment, there’s only one last thing he can sacrifice for the greater good, hoping that the rest of the match goes well without it there to lead.

Dream sacrifices himself.

The piece is eaten by one of his own, everyone confusing him with the other team. Everyone believes his bluffs and acts, and he is cut off from the board.

When the player decides that is time to bring him back, the game is already lost.

________________________________________________________________________________

He isn’t allowed to participate with L’manburg’s affairs anymore, now that he is an outsider. But he isn’t jealous of Eret’s position, who looks distressed as they’re forced to travel from place to place, new obligations popping up every hour of the day.

They joke about it.

“So this is what you were escaping from,” Eret says in a mocking yet fun voice. “If I had known…”

Dream wheezes.

Thanks to Eret, things go well on the Smp faction land.
The disaster zone is L’manburg.

Each day, he visits in the hopes of finding Schlatt, going back to the community house after failing miserably, before continuing. his work for the day. Sometimes he goes to Techno’s, to spar o relax, whatever the piglin hybrid had in mind for the day. Sometimes he stays a little longer with Sapnap and George, the three of them having a small adventure for the day, like cooking, (and goodness, the fact that Bad accompanied them for the day had been a god-send, because otherwise the community house would’ve been burned down far sooner in this timeline).
For the most, he keeps doing general work, helping Nikki gathering materials for her bakery, or reuniting materials for Tommy’s towers and Purpled’s constructions. Helping Tubbo with his bees, or enjoying the twilight with Wilbur, and helping Skeppy, Ant and Bad with different things around the Badlands, (a place he avoided for the most, as terrible memories invaded his mind).

Avoiding Karl and Quackity, and now Sam, was a responsibility too. And a very important one, mind you.

The thing is, no matter how much he distracts himself, the inevitable ends up happening anyways. And now, he’s just a day away from dealing with the elections.

He is really hoping that things won’t go south, but considering his usual luck with this kind of thing, accepting the future comes easy to him.
People start talking around the corners, and the whole new country is plastered with flyers from the different parties that are competing from the honor of winning the elections. He’s heard plenty of Schlatt, despite the fact that the man is nowhere to be seen.

Now that Eret’s is the monarch of the Smp faction, he technically isn’t expected to attend, but he will nevertheless.
To all the people that didn’t attend the coronation, he is factionless now. Obviously, as most people assisted to the ceremony, is common knowledge that he’s a knight, serving under Eret. But it really isn’t something that people talk about during a family dinner, so he’s pretty confident that no one outside the attendees know about the oath.

So Schlatt should be free game.

“Dream?”

Karl voice makes him turn, excitement running through him before it transforms into a painful anxiety as the Karl from the present line stands in front of him.

“Oh– hey Karl”

Of course this would happen. Fuck one on a seven trillion chance of having shit. He would like having the luck of not going through this kind of shit every other week.
Oh, if Bad were to hear his thoughts, Dream would never hear the end of it.

“Do you need anything?”

“Yeah! actually. I heard– Well, I know you’ve been helping everyone and… I want to build a library, but I don’t have the materials. Will… will you help me?”

He could decline; he is in no obligation of helping anyone.
But that would be just rude, and neither Karl had ever done something to him that deserved being ignored. So Dream nods, humming along a small confirmation.

“Sure. What do you need? Just– I don’t think I’ll be able to help you actually build it, y’know?”

Karl waves his hand. “Don’t worry about that. I just need help with the materials. I can do the library. And it’s gonna be an amazing one at that.”

Dream heart jumps at the smile that the other man gives him, and he settles for returning the gesture, even if it’s hidden by the mask. It is refreshing, to talk once again with his friends, even if they’re not on the terms that they used to be.

“Then count me in, i do have the time. Is there a deadline, or…?”

“Well, I would like to have all the stuff before next month, just in case! But there’s no actual deadline.” The smaller man said, handing Dream a paper.

“Good!, then I’ll get the things you need as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Dream!”

The other man walks away, and as soon as he’s out of view, Dream dashes to the forest, forcing the panic down.

‘This is not the moment to have a panic attack’, he chastised himself, biting his lip until it started bleeding. ‘There’s things to do, Dream. Work to do. You have to keep going.’

“Dream– Hey. Dream, please stop?”

He does. His shoulders slowly drift down, hands turned into fists in an attempt to control himself. Karl voice makes him want to vomit, the reminder that his friend is dealing with everything he already ruined in another line while he comfortably sets everything up for disaster.

(To fix.

He’s here to fix, and things are already going well, he has to remind himself despite knowing already.

He isn’t ruining everything.

He is fixing. Both himself and his server).

“It’s me, Dream”

He knows. He knows Karl’s behind him.
But which version?
The one that was traveling with him and Ranboo? The one that was all alone, protecting an unconscious hybrid by himself in a world that’s trying to kill them? Or the one that just asked him for help with a library?

“Dream, turn around. You’re starting to scare me.”

He does.

A sigh of relief abandons both him and the time traveler. Future Karl, the one that still had two arms, is the Karl that’s talking to him.

“You know, you look like you’ve been hit by a train”.

“Everyone has told me that at least once, you know?”

“Well, now I do. And I agree. Are you even sleeping?”

“Why does everyone ask me that?”

“Dream, I don’t think you know the definition of ‘getting hit by a train’. Or you’re just dense. I’d go for both”.

He groans, shoulders slumping while the other man just laughs.
(And like, the audacity).

“I’ll have you know that I closed my eyes for about eight second just this morning.”

“I will knock you out. I probably could.”

“You told me that last time. You wouldn’t be able to.”

Karl shrugged, a small smile painted on his face as he walked towards the Admin.

“And? how are things going? It looks like elections are near.”

“Just a few more days,” Dream loudly sighs, the exhaustion dripping from his words. “I think Schlatt is still gonna win. I tried my best, but as an outsider I couldn’t do a lot. Just, preparations.”

The time traveler patted his shoulder, the comforting presence of a trusted friend enough to get the Admin to fully relax, despite the frustration.

“That’s fine. The most important thing is stopping the egg. We can focus on L’manburg and the rest of things later.”

“That’s the thing. The egg got freed during Schlatt’s presidency. And the book, Karl. We need that book.”

“Why?”

It’s a simple question.
No one has lost a canon life, no one is at risk of permanently dying yet, and Dream still remembers most of the ritual.
So why does the book matter?

(He says to himself that he wants to keep that knowledge away from Schlatt. That he’s trying to protect the people from the Smp and that everything is to help.
But he knows. He knows that the next seal will be too much. He knows as he looks at the scars that he hides with layers and layers of cloth, that no matter how powerful he is, or his position as an admin.

No one can survive a sealing twice.

His original counterpart couldn’t, so how could he?

He knows that getting the book back is nothing more but a choice for his friends.

When everything is over, and the egg is gone… will they still choose him?)

“I’m afraid for Wilbur. He still has some canon lives, of course, but I still feel like he is… well, not the sanest person in the server. I want to ensure that if anything happens to me, someone else will still be able to bring him back.”

Karl nods, clearly knowing there’s more to it, but kind enough to not push the issue anymore.

“You know, I never did tell you about the panic attack, did I?”

“The what now?”

Dream wheezes, and starts telling the little story as the other man listens, scolding him from time to time, and complaining about his own mental health.
When their time is up, a parting hug is shared between the two friends, leaving behind nothing but a promise of support.

Something that he’s really gonna need, for something inside him screams in fear of something bigger that’s soon to come.

The wind feels somehow different.

______________________________________________________________________________

He sits on top of the building, as he did the first time this events happened. Most of the event has already passed, so now they’re waiting for the results.

Everyone knows he’s there, but no one says a thing. Perhaps out of respect, perhaps out of fear. He won’t know, because there’s not enough time to go asking around about something as dumb as opinions.

Eret is there, covered in garments and silk, and proud to accompany their friends. The knights are also around, scattered around the place in different positions, Sapnap being the closest to the monarch, George sitting right next to both.

Every citizen of L’manburg takes a spot on the benches, everyone as excited as the next person. Which is just the opposite to him.

The anxiety is burning him from the inside, chest and stomach alit as if he had hugged a wither skeleton and the creature had infected him, slowly corroding his existence away. Exhaustion, too. He knows his hands are trembling, and he sees somewhat blurry, but ignores it in favor of paying attention to the elections.

He could see the different parties from his position, Tommy and Wilbur excitedly talking about something he (obviously) can’t hear, but look like plans and stories. Nikki and Fundy are talking, too, but they look completely different from the other two; their whole posture and gestures exuding calm and hope.
Then, Quackity.

The man seemed frustrated and tired, like he had been working all night to impress a parent and the answer was “not enough”. Schlatt was still nowhere to be seen, and Dream was getting impatient. Tapping his fingers against the cold stone under him was doing nothing to stop the anxiety that was eating him up, and he was trying really hard to stop himself from swinging his feet like a kid.
He was an Admin, an adult, a guide. He could control himself. Especially in such an important occasion as this one was.

Wilbur opens the envelope, and reads the winner. A grim expression covers his face, and Dream knows. He knows.

Tommy asks, but he isn’t getting an answer, and the older man just starts walking around, anger and desperation leaking in every step he gives. The teen is still asking, hoping for a reason to the man’s reaction that won’t come because Wilbur is too deep in thought and concealed fury to properly speak.

The musician breathes deeply, and walks towards the podium.

Finally, and with Tommy in tow, Wilbur announces the new president.

That is the exact moment when, after weeks of hiding, Schlatt appears. The confidence the ram hybrid exudes feels toxic, and does nothing to help him relax. It’s clear that the man knew the results beforehand, or was pretty confident on himself.
Quackity enters right behind, a cocky smile directed at no one and everyone, standing proudly next to Schlatt.

Dream can’t see Wilbur’s expression, but he can feel the glare that the ex-president gives Schlatt as the ram hybrid smirks at him. Tommy looks confused, stuttering as Wilbur all but drags him off stage, both taking a seat with the rest of the people.
There’s no way to listen, but as the two walk toward the benches, Quackity says something that makes Tommy turn, fully intending to throw a punch towards the new vice-president, barely stopped by Wilbur, who grabs the teen’s hand at the same time he stares in a cold and calculated manner.

(Last time, Wilbur was calm. Last time, Wilbur was if anything cordial.
What did Dream miss while he was busy with Eret’s castle? What happened during the lost time in between Schlatt’s arrival and the elections?)

Schlatt loses no time and takes Wilbur’s place in the podium, Quackity following him closely.

“Well, that was pretty easy. You know what I said? The day I came here for the first time, thanks to Quackity? The same day I said I was running.”
Schlatt gestures wildly at the audience, excitement and power intoxicating (once again) as his time to give a speech is finally upon him.
“I said things were gonna change”.

Dream opens his inventory, eyes running through the HUB as he searches for the object he’s clearly gonna need. He reaches to the empty space in front of him and the small object appears in his hand, perfectly fitting the extremity.

“I saw every citizen of L’manburg in the eyes and I said, ‘you listen to me. This place will be a lot different soon’.”

Adrenaline runs on his veins, blood pumping quicker as something that sounds like whispers and static start filling his ears and mind, entire posture changing into something else.

“Let’s start making it happen.”

Voices coming from the esplanade, confused voices, angry voices.
He knows George and Sapnap are looking at him, even when they know nothing about what’s going to happen. He knows Punz is getting closer to Eret, and that Wilbur is at the back, anxiety eating him probably as much as it’s doing Dream.

“My first decree, as the president of L’manburg. The emperor of this great country!”

Focus on Schlatt.
People are moving.

Eret is standing up, Tommy is stepping back, people are gasping and moving and–
Focus on Schlatt.

“Is to revoke the citizenship, of Wilbur Soot, and TommyInnit!”

Silence.
The silence gets broken by Nikki, and then Tommy, both letting a desperate “NO!” escape their mouths. Suddenly, everyone is talking. Static and Whispers screech at the back of his head as he tries to make sense of the voices that come from below him.

Focus on Wilbur.
Focus on Tommy.

People stand up.
Punz and Sapnap stop Eret from trying anything, and despite friendships and relationship, is only Tubbo and Nikki who stand behind, hands empty, as the rest of the citizens point their weapons to the two newly exiled man.

George moves, but Dream moves quicker.

Even as the commotion and noise fills the place, the ender pearl that he throws to the ground right in front of Tommy seems to be louder, every single voice stopping as he appears.

No one can see his face, but he still feels exposed.

“A day.” He says.
His voice seems small, but everyone seems to hear him.
“The constitution says that a day is given to whoever is exiled to grab their things and leave peacefully, before any chase can be started.”

Static.

(They’re looking at each other. Maybe is relief what crosses their expressions. Maybe doubt. George seems agitated, and Sapnap is biting his lip.
Schlatt is looking at him.

Schlatt is looking at him.

Interest, mockery. A taunting expression that feels like he’s being examined like a guinea pig. He’s caught Schlatt’s attention, all according to the plan.

But it feels so fucking similar to future Quackity’s that he kinda wishes that his plan had failed.)

“Then they better get going. It is already quite late.” Schlatt’s voice echoes through the place.

He doesn’t turn around, but he does hear steps getting farther and farther away from him. Everything is quiet as the two brothers escape from the place. No one says a thing to him as he walks towards George, who lets him drop some of his weight on top of him.

He isn’t looking, but he knows that the wheels for chaos are set in motion. That Eret is frustrated and angry. That Schlatt wants something to do with him. That the egg is planning, his transmisor is making sounds, and his friends are suffering.
But in George’s half embrace, when no one but him and Sapnap are paying attention to Dream, he can’t find it in himself to care.

‘Ph1LzA has been whitelisted’

Chapter Text

Dream was born from nothing.

He sees the violet particles disappearing after he wakes up, and no more after that; his origins forever a mystery.

There’s no dad to pat his head after a long day of work, or mom that cooks while reprimanding him for getting mud on the clean floor, or a younger sibling that annoys him to get extra candy. It’s just him, and his mission.

He meets people, along the way, of course. Families that see a lost child and their first reaction is to protect, unaware that he is there for their protection. He is, after all, mostly a mortal, an overworld creature, so it’s easy for him to blend with other people. (Not to fit. Anywhere he goes, anyone he meets. He never fits. Because “mostly” still leaves him with a part that’s not really part of the realm he resides in, and that will never belong among them).

The thing about people, especially when you’re not a mortal, is that you’re bound to lose them.

Whether the relationship withers over time or disagreements, or because mortals die.

Is not something he likes, but it is something he has no control over. Even before the egg came to be, his fight with death had long started, and was long lost.
It is the egg, though, what makes him realize that he is not meant for families.
He tries different things. No one can really blame him of not trying. Honesty brought him abandonment once, and painful loss twice. Hiding things made him untrustworthy and he got chased away. Asking for help started a slaughter. Ignoring things got him killed and his family too.

Hell, even when he actually had a solution, the curse of responsibility forced his hand. (Tricked him. He thought that he was doing them a favor, not knowing that the seal would absorb everything. The egg chanted lies and he fell for them, like the idiot he was).

Dream thought, that now that the egg was gone, he could try again to settle with the mortals. That he could find a family, or even someone like himself. There were more admins, and creators. Surely someone with his same curse was bound to appear.

Then Wilbur breaks the family. Most part go with him, and whoever stays, won’t for long.

He remembers the lesson that the egg kindly engrained in him; attachments are there for nothing more than just hurting you.

Dream loved. He loved with his whole heart, with his whole being. He loved the creatures that lived around the world, and loved the plants that grew around the realm, and overall, he loved the people; the humans, the hybrids, and those who weren’t one or the other. He loved so deeply and so kindly that it hurt, that it burned.

The realization that that love was his biggest weakness was what made him fear.

‘If I hadn’t loved, maybe I would’ve stopped the egg sooner’.

‘If I hadn’t loved, maybe the egg would’ve had nothing against me’.

‘If I hadn’t loved, maybe I wouldn’t be this scared’.

‘Loving made me wish I hadn’t sealed the egg’.

Love, he decides, is too dangerous to be left unchecked.

So when Tommy turns Sapnap and George against him. When Puffy disowns him. When there’s finally nothing left to lose, he stops loving.

(That’s a lie, by the way. He never stops loving. Not Sapnap, the chaotic hybrid that he calls a brother. A constant presence. Someone who hypes him up, and help him, and protects him.
Not George, his best friend, who calls him out on his bullshit, and who screams in annoyance whenever Dream messes up with him, yet still helps bandaging every injury he gets during his shenanigans.
Not Bad, who yells ‘Language!’ whenever he curses, frustrated with his attitude, yet taking care of them all the same.
Not Puffy, who rolls eyes at his idiocy and calls him ‘Duckling’, taking him under her wing.

He closes up. He stops talking to them. He hides and lies, and accepts his fate when they leave him for the true hero.

Yet he never stops loving them.
But they stop loving him.

And really, it is well deserved).

Even in prison, months after Quackity stops coming, he can hear the egg, mocking him, talking to him.

“We aren’t meant to love, Dream.”

And he isn’t an idiot. The egg lies and manipulates and uses. The egg plays with him like he is nothing more but a sock puppet. The egg sweet talks him with promises of more, of better, of true love, of requited feelings, and an eternity to enjoy them. Dream knows better. Dream is better. Dream has been through far more, thousands of times, thousands of lives, thousands of names.

“We aren’t meant to live like them, because we aren’t like them.”

The torture he’s been subjected to during his different lives is nothing. The isolation might make him crazy, and his body might hurt like a bitch, even when Quackity hasn’t so much as shown his face on the cell. But Dream has felt this and thousands of different ways of torture, and this isn’t enough to tip his trust towards The Egg.

“And, overall, Dream. We aren’t meant to be loved”.

Dripping water falls over him, the crying obsidian rotting over him after so many time without maintenance, the sound of lava bubbles popping around the giant cube and the smell of smoke and blood filling his senses. The cold wall burning over his mangled clothes, touching the badly healed injuries on his back.
The room is usually empty of noise. There’s nothing there. Even the few things he was entitled to were mostly gone too. He’s not one to make noise. Not after months of being completely alone. It lost its appeal, and his throat is in a terrible condition.

Yet, he finds it in himself to chuckle at the affirmation that the egg whispers in the confidence of the prison.

He agrees.
They aren’t meant to be loved.

___________________________________________________________________________

The travel back to the castle is silent.
He is not supposed to follow Eret while Schlatt is nearby, but the monarch sends a look his way that makes him sigh and nod.
So Sapnap and Punz escort Eret, and George helps him to follow the trio. Is not that he’s weak, or unable to walk on his own, but after the whole election fiasco he feels like he might tip over and die wherever he stands, and the older man’s presence grounds him. Plus, George isn’t pushing him away; and with how vocal he usually is, this is the closest Dream will get to having permission to be this clingy.

The enormous towers of the castle rises in the distance, casting a shadow over them as it stands in silence, it’s figure growing ad they get closer.

(It’s different, from Eret’s original castle. He made sure of that.
It is, for one, far more secure. But for the most, he needed to make the place different. He was pleasantly surprised when Eret themselves added most of the changes).

Dream zones out so hard that it feels like he might be time traveling again, dizziness smacking him right in the face as the need to puke assaults him. One second he’s in George’s arms, far away from the castle; the next, he’s sitting on the ground, right at the entrance of the magnificent building, both of his team– friends– surrounding him, while Eret and Punz stand behind, worry painted in their expressions.

“Is he okey?”

“Yeah, just dehydrated.”

“Which could’ve be avoided if someone stopped being an idiot.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I forgot”.

“Dream, this are symptoms for severe dehydration, how do you forget?”

“I was… busy.”

Everyone groans at his slurred answer, and if he weren’t half conscious in the ground, he probably would’ve found it amusing.

“I’m not even gonna fight you. Seriously, Dream, you’re such an idiot.”

A water bottle is pushed to his lips, the liquid sliding into his mouth, and Dream can’t help but drink, instinct kicking in as his tired body desperately looks for water.
He feels like a plant, and giggles slightly before coming back to the task at hand, stopping himself from chocking so foolishly.
After a few seconds of drinking, he separates and gasps for air, finally feeling alive again.

Eret sighs. “I really want to be angry at you, but seeing you like this makes me feel like you’re probably as stressed over this situation as I am.”

He nods.

“So you knew what was happening?”

He did, but that’s not something he could just tell. Settling for the next best thing, he lies;

“I figured it out. I knew Quackity had something going on, and Schlatt entered the server but I never saw him before the elections. I thought that something big was going to happen, but I wasn’t sure. Had to be prepared”.

No one mentions the fact that he had memorized L’manburg’s constitution.

“If you knew, then why did you passed the crown to me?” Eret asks, unsure expression in their face.

“I couldn’t help as leader.”

“You could’ve said something. I don’t know, stopping Quackity, or banning Schlatt or–”

“And be treated like a Tyrant? Tell me, Eret. If I were to meddle with L’manburg affairs when our alliance started so rocky, what do you think people would’ve said? I was already too deep. If I had attacked, whether physically or just slandering a team, what would’ve happened? Broken trust at best, a war at worst. I couldn’t act up.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me? When you passed the crown to me?”

“It would’ve been the same. If Schlatt and Quackity cheated, we could’ve done nothing. Hell, even Tommy and Wilbur were powerless. Anyone who could’ve done something would’ve had ended looking like an oppressive jerk.”

“Then!… then what do we do?”

Dream grimaces at Eret’s expression. He tries standing up, but George forces him down and glares at him with so much anger behind it that the Admin gulps and accept his place in the ground.

He sighs. “Listen, if I know anything about Wilbur and Tommy is that they bounce back. I doubt they’re accepting their fate as exiles. If anything, you can offer them support as an outside country. They’re not banned in your lands. If they come here, we can offer them support.”

“But,” Eret continues, sensing the change in tone.

“But,” Dream agrees, and continues. “You cannot help them against L’manburg, if they attempt to do a takeover.”

Eret frowns.

“The good thing is that, as a neutral party, you don’t have to help L’manburg either.”

The realization hits not only the monarch, but everyone in the place at the exact same time.

“Wow, even half dying you have good plans.”

“Fuck off, Punz.”

“No, no, no. He is right! You’re a pain during manhunts, man.”

The monarch chuckles.

“So that’s the plan. I have no obligation to help either side”.

“Oh, you can help them fine. Maybe not directly, sending people to intervene and that. But you can give… I don’t know. Food? Materials? Those are free game.”

“You bastard,” Punz said, no venom behind the words. “You were ready, weren’t you?”

He laughs, before grabbing the water bottle and chunking the rest of its contents.

“But that still doesn’t explain why you passed the crown.”

Once he finishes the water bottle, and leaves it aside, he answers: “I can’t be neutral.”

Silence. Confusion.
It feels like judgment.

“You’re… helping Wilbur?”

He feels ashamed, and it must show in his posture because Punz and Eret react badly.

“You’re helping Schlatt?!”

“No! I’m–”

(“Just tell me you hate me!!”).

“Dream, what the–!”

“Shut up!”

He covers his ears.
Static and Whispers are filling his ears, panic holding him hostage. He pushes himself against the wall, attempting to fuse with it, but clearly failing.

“I don’t fucking hate you, George!”

He said that aloud.
Oh, fuck, he fucking screamed that. He looks up, his best’s friend staring at him in confusion.

“I know, Dream.”

And just like that, the entirety of his breakdown disappears.
(Not really. He feels his fingers twitching, and his ears ringing, and the necklace trying to untie the knot that resides in his chest. But it is a start.)
A warm feeling fills him, starting from the necklace he wears, spreading slowly to the rest of his body.

“Okey,” He mumbles. “Okey.” He repeats. Louder.

No one dares speak for what feels like ages. But Dream has to explain. Dream has to continue.

“I’m positive that Schlatt has something in his hands. Something that’s far too dangerous to be left in the wrong hands. So I’m gonna make him trust me enough to give this relic to me. I’m still supporting po– Wilbur and Tommy. Just not directly. I’m not– I would never do something like this without a good reason.”

Sapnap pats his shoulder, a warm smile that makes Dream smile back.
“We know, Dream”.

“We know.” Eret agrees.

_____________________________________________________________________

The next day, before the sun starts to rise up, and without giving them the chance to offer Tommy and Wilbur a place to stay, both brothers are gone. Houses empty, everything thrown around as if a tornado had entered. He uses Karl’s petition for materials as an excuse to, during the week after the elections, get closer to the ravine that forms Pogtopia, almost a hundred percent sure that the two exiles are there.

To his relief, they are, but he still takes his time before actually reaching up to them.

In the meantime, his focus falls in damage control. Working as a spy is not easy. He is, to Schlatt and Quackity, factionless, and that’s exactly how he wants it.

Now that Wilbur and Tommy are gone, Schlatt is a lot more active, showing himself like he’s parading around the town, which, honestly, no one really cares, but that’s one less thing to worry about. Now he doesn’t have to track him down, woohoo!

He, too, has to inform Techno of his brother’s fallout.

“See, I told you that I should’ve bombed their nation. It was clearly the best choice”. was his answer, by the way.

(If there’s suspicion in his eyes, if it looks like Techno is waiting for something else to be said, or like he knows more than what’s been said.

Well, he can’t look at Dream’s eyes, so hiding the fact that he’s actively ignoring it is quite easy).

(Philza hasn’t arrived, and neither him nor Techno mention the fact that the hybrid went through with the invitation. With the whole fallout thing, Dream fears that Techno might think that the invitation is because of the whole disaster on the mainland, but the other doesn’t seem fazed about that.

Well, victories are on the little things).

Eret focuses on the overall Smp, with the Badlands helping right behind, a small support that help greatly in keeping the things afloat while Schlatt causes chaos on the newborn nation.

On the other side, he has to step in between Nikki and Schlatt a lot, because the young woman just isn’t having the ram hybrid’s shit, and as much as Dream completely agrees with her, it’d be nice if she could settle down slightly.
Don’t misinterpret him, he would also like to be snarky with Schlatt and his dumb choices, but if Schlatt is openly trashing her, Dream can’t protect her. Not from taxes, and definitely not from the other man abusing his power and slowly forcing her onto bankruptcy.

Tubbo, too, is having a terrible time.
Without Tommy, and suddenly forced into a position of power, the poor teenager is looking like if wind blew a little too hard, he would crumble and perish on the ground. For the most, Dream tries to relieve his worries a little, helping with the bee sanctuary and leaving him some cookies around the places the kid frequents.

After a whole week of putting the meeting on hold, he notifies Sapnap as he grabs several things from his own chests and sets off to talk with the exiles.

It doesn’t take long before he arrives, but it does takes a little bit before he feels brave enough to step into the ravine.
It’s mostly dark, a few torches here and there, barely lighting up the stairs. He hears voices, and wonders if someone else already reached up to them. He knows that Quackity was one of the people that turn against Schlatt, but it’s barely been a week, so the probability that the business man was already plotting Manberg’s downfall is null. Then…

Something clicks in his head as the voices become clearer, and Dream finally picks out Techno’s voice. He looks at them, everyone deep in a conversation about nations and wars, and it’s until Techno notices him that the discussion quiets down.

“Oh. Hey nerd. You sure took your time.”

Rolling his eyes, Dream answers. “Do I even want to know how you got here before me?”

“Probably, but I ain’t telling ya.”

“Of course.”

Wilbur turns around to stare at him, not looking surprised, and Tommy does the same, although he looks more confused and angry than anything.

“Oh, great, the green bastard.”

“Tommy,” Wilbur warns. “Calm down.”

“You’re kidding. This is his fault, Wilbur!”

“Tommy.”

“He allowed Schlatt in here! the bastard who won! Who exiled us!“

“Tommy.”

“And now he’s in here, probably trying to fucks us over again! Fuck you! I thought I could trust you!”

“Tommy!” Techno and Wilbur rise their voices, finally getting the younger one to snap his mouth shut and listen.

“Thank you,” Wilbur grumbles before putting his attention back to Dream. “So? Everything went terrible, I presume.”

“Yup. Everything’s a wreck on L’manburg.”

“Ah. I see. Anything else?”

“They did a lot of modifications. Most of the things you put around are gone. Tubbo was forced to take some signs that were on the borders. He was really upset. Nikki and I barely got him to calm down.”

The ex-president sighed. “Of course. Poor Tubbo, it must suck. I hear he became part of the cabinet.”

“Not by choice, but yeah. He’s secretary of state. He’s supposed to chase Tommy, but we’re keeping him busy, so he has an excuse to stay inside Manberg.”

“Ah, perfect. I don’t think Tubbo would have it in him to actually go through with handing Tommy to Schlatt, but I rather he doesn’t have to deal with all of this.”

“He’ll have to, eventually.” Techno very tactfully (not at all) points out, making Tommy frown. “You can’t protect him from war. Not if a dictator is basically holding him hostage.”

Tommy drives his eyes away, an angry expression in his face, slightly trembling. Not that Dream can’t blame him. If George or Sapnap were in the same situation, he’d feel as frustrated as the minor does.

(He did, when Tommy threatened Spirit’s remains. It wasn’t the same, but if the kid had no respect for a dead pet, what could stop him from attacking people? Close friends?)

“Well…” Wilbur mutters. “What did you get?”

“Information, of course,” Dream shrugs. “I don’t know how much Techno told you–”

“Around the same you told me. Which, not a lot.”

“–of course. Well then.”

Filling the brothers in is not hard. The worst is probably having to endure Tommy’s anger during the whole thing, but explaining everything is easy. Sometimes he has to stop himself from saying something that hadn’t happened. Little moments when he has to stop talking about Eret because he knows that their relationship is not the best… except that it is. Or when he wants to drag in someone who’s technically still a part of Manberg. That varying moments of realization that, ‘oh. Yeah. That hasn’t happened’ get to him, and he can feel the others’ unease over his constant hesitance.

“Eret also wants you to know that you’re welcome on the Smp lands, as citizens or refugees.” He finishes his explanation.

“Although I’m thankful for his offering, i have a sensation that we won’t be allowed to fight back for our country.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say you’re not allowed to. You just won’t have the support. The treaties are still there. I anyone from the Smp were to actively fight against Manberg…”

“We’d be starting an actual war. I see…”

“But,” Techno chimes in the conversation. “Factionless people can.”

“Not the Badlands, if that’s what you’re thinking,” He mentions once Wilbur face contorts into a scheming expression. “The swore loyalty to Eret.”

“I’m not, and I’m in for bombing the government.”

“We know, Techno.”

“Then what’s the plan?”

Oh, hey. Yeah, Tommy was there too.
Dangit, the kid had been so quiet and the place was so dark that Dream completely forgot he was still there. The minor glares at him, but relaxes slightly afterwards.

“You’re helping us, right?”

“I am. But not in the way you’re probably hoping.”

Silence. Wilbur looks directly at his eyes, (or it feels like it, despite the mask guarding his face from everyone’s eyes), and when he finds what he’s searching for, he looks away.

“So, you plan on acting like a spy.”

It’s not a question.

He wants to feel surprised, but ends up feeling numb. Wilbur had always been surprisingly good at reading him. (It scares him. It scares him because part of him feels like the first war could’ve been more than just him exploding. Because everyone called him the tyrant and puppeteer and everything. But what if he had been just as clueless as the rest?

Wilbur is good.

Wilbur went mad because of him.

He has to remind himself that because otherwise, he might end up trying to clean himself of guilt.

Dream is the only one to blame).

“You could say that.”

“Meaning?”

Dream shifts his stance, an uncomfortable feeling setting on his chest. Tommy might be the only one in this place that can’t understand what he’s doing, and that makes him feel… exposed. Surrounded by people that speak to him like they know every single one of his secrets. Like the mask is nothing but decoration, when is supposed to cover his reactions and ideas.

“There’s something that Schlatt has that I need. I’m making him trusting me, but I won’t be able to help you. I do have things for you.”

With that, he finally sets a chest and starts filling it with the things that he brought specifically for the exiles. Gapples, food, more materials, and both Nightmare the sword and a crossbow.

“I will try to get someone to bring you some more stuff, and like I said, should you need anything, Eret offers sanctuary. Other than that I’m focusing on Schlatt. I don’t think I’ll visit a lot.”

“I see.”

Tommy starts looking at the things that lay on the new chest.

“You should stay safe. People are waiting for you, back in L’manburg.”

Something dark shimmers on Wilbur’s eyes, the same exact moment that relief fills Tommy’s expression.

“I know. We will.”

Techno walks towards the stair, going up a couple of steps before turning his head towards Dream, a silent question. Dream straightens and follows, weaving at the two brothers.

“Later, guys. Good luck. Hope Pogtopia flourishes”.

He doesn’t wait for an answer, quickly flying up the stairs in an attempt to catch up to the piglin hybrid. Following closely behind, he starts humming in an attempt to fill in the silence.

“So. You know that they never mentioned Pogtopia, right?”

He stops.
Static filling his head, lungs refusing to fill.
Oh, fuck. Had he mentioned Pogtopia?

“Now, I don’t really know why you did, and I’m not one to pry. But you should be more careful, because you’re slipping, and I don’t think that’s good.”

Techno also stopped, but he isn’t looking at Dream. The admin can only look at the fabric that composes the red cape, and the hair and crown that the other one possesses.

“Actually, you’ve been slipping a lot lately. ‘M kinda surprised, if I’m being honest. You seemed like a more composed guy. I wonder what could’ve happened to get you like this.”

“Do you know?”

His own voice sounds like a whisper, and he is not quite sure that Techno heard him.

(Does Techno knows?)

“Heh?”

“Do. You. Know?”

The piglin shrugs, and walks away, not a single noise coming from him.
Dream stands there, at the top of Pogtopia, white as his own mask.

“Shit.”

Chapter Text

The prison marked Dream in more ways than one.

It’s not the first time he’s been in a situation like this, but the last was so long ago he barely remembers it. And, this too is the first time he got jailed by people he considered family.

Way before, when the egg was still free to roam and conquer the lands that Dream protected, he had been in and out of trouble.

Quackity wasn’t the first one to try to break the Admin’s will, and he sure wouldn’t be the last one. But considering times, it probably was one of the worst.

When Dream was a ‘kid’, he had endured something similar, under the command of a very old king, who wanted more power, more lands, despite having most already. It hadn’t been as dramatic as getting stuck on an isolation cell, that’s for sure. But the weeks he had spent starving over orders not followed, or publicly whipped over having slightly more food that he should.
Or, similarly to his own cell, the isolation punishment, when he got a little too close to a fellow soldier.

The thing is, Dream was used to it.
It didn’t stop the trauma from slowly eating him, of course, but if anything, he was used to it.

What he was not used to, was the voices.

He always had this sense of responsibility, of permanence, his own will commanding him to stay and protect everyone who lived in the server, but he never had voices actually telling him things, or suggesting ideas.

So the moment voices started surrounding his senses while in prison, Dream knew he was utterly fucked.

Sometimes, it’d be his former friends. Sapnap promising death, or George asking him if Dream hated him. Most days, it was Tommy’s hateful voice berating him for every single thing he had done in his life. From time to time, Puffy and Sam joined to the jury.

Sometimes, the voice spoke ender, or the almost forgotten language that were used on enchantments.
It never had something nice to say, and knew everything. His fears, his mistakes, his plans. It was almost like it was Dream himself.
(It could’ve been, if the voice weren’t deeper. If it didn’t sound like a thousand voices in one, thanks to the echo. It could’ve been if it sounded anything like Dream. It didn’t).

It kept talking once Dream was out, murmuring despair into his mind and fear into his heart. It screamed whenever he had a panic attack, and it slipped into both dreams and nightmares, never leaving him alone.
It only stopped when the raid happened. The hallucinations that haunted him gone along Tommy.

Of course, worse nightmares came after the voices left, but at least they were gone.

He never truly had an answer for what it was, and assumed the isolation in prison had messed up his mind, and the trauma of watching the teen die had been what ultimately shocked him out of the hallucination.

As long as they didn’t come back…

_________________________________________________________________

He was fully hoping to go directly back to the community house, after his small… talk with Techno. But first, he knew he had to pass by L’manburg, to check in with Nikki, make sure that he hadn’t slapped Schlatt yet, or something.

Tubbo crying at the entrance of the small nation wasn’t what he had been expecting. The kid looked terrible, one hand holding the other which was covered in blood, clothes dirty and his face buried deep into a familiar red bandanna. Alarmed, he sprinted across the clearing, quickly sliding and crouching next to the younger one.

“Tubbo?” He asked, voice cracking slightly.

The minor jumped slightly, just noticing the other’s presence, tear-filled face and trembling lips finally out in the open for the admin to see. It made both guilt and anger explode in his chest.

(He had seen this face before, but he had been the one at fault for the expression that the kid wore at the moment. He had been the one holding an axe and threatening them. He was the one to make them cry, whatever intentions he ever had were nothing compared to the damage he had caused to everyone in his server.

Now, he wanted to make repairs).

“Dream?” His voice sounded so small, and scared, that it broke Dream’s heart.

“Lend me your hand, if you will.”

Tubbo stared down at his hand, confusion expressed in his eyes before the realization that his hand was injured fully hit him. Without a word, the minor did as he asked.

(The Tubbo from his original timeline wouldn’t have done something like that. Far more reserved, especially with Dream, always tense and untrusting of the admin. It surprised him how much the teen seemed to trust him in this timeline. It felt weird, everything going the same yet everything being so different).

He took it, softly supporting it with his own hand as he investigated for anything. The knuckles were red, small cuts on them, a big gash, not that deep, covering the dorsal side. It wasn’t a terribly bad injury, but it still seemed to be painful, so Dream took a regeneration potion from his inventory.

“It will sting a little.”

“’S fine,” Tubbo slurred, cleaning his face with the other arm’s sleeve. “I can handle it.”

He nodded, and slowly started pouring the potion over the injuries. As Tubbo hissed, he slightly lifted the tip of the bottle, looking at the kid, who instantly turned his head away. Understanding, Dream went back to the mission at hand.

“And… May I know what happened?”

The kid mused, not really an answer but something similar to it.
“Schlatt wanted the van down.” he explained, scratchy voice barely hearable. “He made me take it down, piece by piece. I hit a wall and broke a mirror on accident.”

That last piece sounded like it wasn’t really an accident, but Dream wasn’t going to judge. Once the hand was fully healed, Dream released it, and Tubbo took it back, rubbing it with his other hand, looking at the un-scarred limb with a numb expression.

“I know you didn’t like it because it was about the whole drug thing, but… It was important to me, and to Tommy, and Wilbur. And I just–” The kid’s voice broke, sobbing coming from him as his numbness transformed into sorrow. “–I miss them so much, Dream”.

He sat next to the younger one, patting his head with care. A sudden movement startled him, his mind confused once he realized that Tubbo was hugging him, face hidden in his hoodie.

And what is he supposed to do? When was the last time someone that wasn’t George, Karl or Sapnap even touched him in a softer manner? With love and appreciation, or asking for nothing more than comfort, instead of trying to hurt him?

He gulped. The touch made his skin itch. It wasn’t a direct contact, but it still felt wrong. Not because Tubbo was evil in any way (chaotic? yeah. Evil? Not in a thousand years), but because there was only like, four people that would normally touch him like this, and none of them were here. It made him remember the way Sam restrained him, big body against his weak vessel once he did anything that was slightly ‘wrong’ or ‘going against the rules’. Or when Quackity held him down, full body on top of him as the younger man searched for weapons in his inventory.
(It reminded him of betrayals. Of a stab in the back, and the rope-like texture of the vines the egg had used more than once to stop him)

He felt something warm coming from his chest, and whether it was the necklace or Tubbo, he didn’t know, but it helped to regulate his rising breathing.

Finally, he decided to hug Tubbo back. It was slow, but he held the kid as he shifted slightly into a more comfortable position, and kept hugging Dream with a surprising amount of strength. Drawing circles in his back with a hand, the admin started humming.

After a few minutes of crying, Tubbo’s body started to relax, and when no more noise came from him, Dream knew he had fallen asleep.
He smiles under his mask, twisting the kid into a perfect position to carry him, and as careful as he could be, he lifted the minor, slowly walking towards Nikki’s bakery.

It felt… weird. Not only the new interactions, the new relationships. It felt weird in the fact that, once a time, he had walked through the same places, the same structures surrounding him, the same people existing around him.
Despite being such an important part of the world, he had always been an outsider. Whatever the period, Dream had never been part of history. He had been there, he had appeared, and acted, and talked, but before L’manburg, his rol was secondary at best. Even the times where the egg stood and fought, Dream mission stayed in the shadows, a background story that wasn’t recorded, nor remembered.
The only time he had actually grabbed an important position in history, and it was the antagonist part; the villain.

So being an actual part of life, interacting with the important pieces of the board, it felt so weird. He was a part of it, a part of everything, and it was so overwhelming that from time to time, he found himself watching his own body act, like it was a movie.

How long had it been since he felt like this? Like he was more than a passing traveler?

(Would it last? Or would it be like his last life? Like the last story that existed only in the books that Karl recorded?
Would the end be bloody? Will he be forced to leave everything behind? Will he even survive?)

He blinked, a familiar door in front of him, silence mocking him for once again zoning out. Adjusting his position, he made space to hold Tubbo with just an arm (and all of his torso, because only the arm would’ve been impossible), and he knocked. Three thuds echoed to both sides of the door, and once the deed was done, he re-accommodated Tubbo in his arms. The sound of steps came one or two minutes afterwards, and the door swung open.

Had it been any other situation, he probably would’ve laughed at Nikki’s sudden mood swing, from pissed, to horrified, to worried. She stepped aside, pointing to a sofa, closing the door behind Dream, and following him as he set the kid on the piece of furniture.

“Is he okey?” She asked, looking at the kid from different angles, trying to find any injury.

“He is. Hurt his hand but it wasn’t that bad; a regen potion was enough. Fell asleep after crying a little.”

Nikki huffed, crossing her arms. “It was Schlatt, wasn’t he? He was all giddy this noon.”

He nodded. “Made him take down the caravan. Took it badly. I’m not sure if something else happened, that’s all he told me.”

The woman slammed her foot on the ground. “That-! that…! Ugh! He keeps doing this kind of things all around the place! basically destroying L’manburg! We cannot keep like this! I’m–! Argh!”

She was mad. So mad that he eyes seemed glossy and her hands trembled upon the force she applied on the fists she formed.

“And now Tommy and Wilbur are also gone and at least Eret is safe but Quackity is such a bad person with everyone, and Fundy is ignoring me because he doesn’t want to break the rules and–”

Slowly, her voice started to broke down. Fury melted into desperation and frustration. Tears slowly escaped from her eyes, staining wet her cheeks. She didn’t cry aloud, but she shrank slightly her body in an attempt to hide her feelings. He walked towards her and patted her shoulder. She didn’t look at him, but her head leaned towards him, laying on his chest.

And ‘oh, Dream, isn’t trust such a beautiful thing? Something so powerful? Having people believe in you, trusting your words and choices after everything you’ve done?’.

He ignores the intrusive thought; he didn’t have time for those.

“I’m sorry for snapping like this. I’m… just… so tired.” The last bit was murmured, probably not meant to be actually heard by anyone else but her, but in the silence that filled the house, whispers were listenable no matter the distance. “I’m so tired.”

“I know.”

A lingering thought pings in his head.
Should he tell her? About Wilbur and Tommy and Pogtopia? He knows she eventually joined them, the exiles. But things from the original timeline and this one were so different. Everything was happening so quickly, he wasn’t sure how to act to the difference in times. Was he too late? Was it too early? If Schlatt rose on power so quickly, would the egg act just as quick?

“Dream? You’re hyperventilating?”

He stopped breathing altogether, and left the rest to the necklace, which started warming his chest with positive feelings.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You want to talk about it?”

He shook his head.
“No, I actually have to go back with the guys. But I found Tubbo and– I just couldn’t leave him there.”

“I get it,” she smiled. “It’s fine, I’ll take care of him. I’m sure you’re busy.”

To be honest, he just needed to get away from all of this, if only for a few hours. If anyone would accept him, arms open, and not judge him for running away from his responsibilities, it’d be Sapnap and George. But Nikki didn’t need to know.
It was for the best. He couldn’t protect her if she hated him.

(He knew he couldn’t. He had been in prison, hated by everyone, separated from every single person he had known, and most had died).

“Be careful, Dream.”

“You too, Nikki”.

She chuckled. “I promise I won’t die if it counts for anything.”

He stared at her, a heavy feeling surrounding them.
“I’m serious. I get how much you hate Schlatt. But you can’t help anyone if you’re in prison, or dead.”

She stayed silent, but nodded, the small grin already gone.

“Tommy and Wilbur are okey, by the way. Technoblade contacted them recently, from what I’ve heard. It doesn’t seem like they will accept the main Smp help anytime soon, but they won’t give up either.”

His body was already turned, facing the door, but her excitement was palpable from kilometers. A small smiled escaped him. No one said a thing when he stepped out of the house, but it wasn’t needed.
Looking at the sky, he realized that it was pretty late already. No new message appeared on his transmisor, so his friends were probably busy with something. Sighing, the transmisor disappeared with a wave of his own hand, and he started walking home.

The streets of L’manburg felt empty. With the two more prominent members gone, and the rest scared of following them into exile, the nation soon started to be empty most afternoons, everyone hiding in their homes, or traveling away to avoid the two men in power. It was… so sudden. One day, the houses were filled with light and noise, even when the moon was already up. Then, one morning the elections happened, and everything he had known for months… disappeared. He wondered if this is what everyone in L’manburg felt after the doomsday?

What had he done?

All thoughts, doubts, everything, is put on hold when a hand grabs his shoulder. He freezes, some panic exploding in him as he wonders how he didn’t hear anyone near him. In a quick move, he turns, hand ready to appear a weapon in case–

Schlatt’s face welcomes him, a mocking smile plastered in his face, almost the same grin that Wilbur had received the election day.

“Ah, Dream. Just the man I wanted to see.”

He forces himself to relax, trying not to look threatening (or scared).
(He knows the act. Puff your chest slightly, unnoticeable for the eyes but enough to seem more buff. Straighten your back, the taller you look, the more people fear. Your expression matters too, even if no one can see. You gotta believe your act, or no one else will. Tilt your head. Make them think you’re not taking this seriously, or they might know you’re scheming. Fake it ‘till you make it. Everyone has to fall for it.)

“Ah. Schlatt, the new president. Interesting that we haven’t spoken yet, considering you’ve been here for a while, right?”

(Good. Your tone isn’t suspicious, just curious).

“I’m guessing you’ve been busy? Considering you won, and all, I’m sure a lot of your time went into that victory.”

Schlatt’s smile widens, and Dream can’t help but silently gulp.

“You could say that, yes. I’m sorry I took so much time to contact you, but yeah, I was really busy trying to win. You know how politics are.”

“I do. Far too difficult to keep up with them if you’re not an intellectual, let alone actively campaigning.”

Schlatt muses, a glint of something shining in his eyes as he turns his head towards Nikki’s house.
“It’s a shame that not everyone is made for politics, or following orders. But a few bad apples won’t contaminate the tree.”

So he wants to get rid of Nikki ASAP. Probably something to warn both her and Wilbur about.

“Truly a shame,” he mutters. “So? Anything you wanted to talk about, since you were looking for me?”

Schlatt exhales a laugh, and nods. “Of course. Not here, though. Walls hear ‘n all that shit.”

The president makes a ‘follow me’ signal with his hand, turning his back on him and walking towards his house. Dream, as requested, followed, huffing.
So much for going with George and Sapnap…

The journey wasn’t long. Soon they reached the white house that Quackity had built. (Was the construction built this early in the original line? He couldn’t remember). The hybrid opened the door, letting Dream walk first. He hesitates a little as he enters the building, letting Schlatt behind him, but hides it well, (he had trained for years. If he didn’t want to show something, he wouldn’t.

‘That’s what you think, don’t you, Dream?’

He ignores it, pesky intrusive thoughts doing nothing but annoy him).

It’s visible, even with how clean the house is, that Schlatt still has a drinking problem. It’s visible thanks to the different yet barely visible stains in the walls and the furniture, and in the one or two bottles that lay around the place. Schlatt directs him to an office, where the man takes seat first, leaving Dream standing. He sits in front of the ram hybrid.

“Recently it came to my attention that Eret has been crown as the, ‘monarch’, of the Smp faction.”

“You’re right. I was too busy to take care of an entire faction, and after some… deliberation, I finally appointed them as royalty.”

“Which makes me curious. You gave so much power away.”

He nods.
(Schlatt’s posture is relaxed. Not happy, but interested, leaning towards Dream, supporting his elbows on the desk between them, eyes fixed on the mask, even if the hybrid attempts to look away.

Dream copies him, faking relaxation, leaning on the back of the chair, head tilted in inexistent confusion and curiosity, arms crossed, giving nothing away).

“Not really. I mean, of course, I cannot control the faction as a whole anymore, but I still am the most powerful person on the server.”

“I heard Techno is here too. I know he has beaten you before.”

“In brute strength, yeah. He is recognized as one of the best pvp’eers, if not the best in modern times. But I know this server like the back of my hand. I know the people in it, their weaknesses, and every single place where to get materials. If I must remember you, I’m known for getting the upper hand in the worst of cases.”

Schlatt mused, spinning his chair, looking towards the window.

“Well, I was thinking on making L’manburg better. I think that exiling Wilbur and Tommy wasn’t enough. Soon I’ll send people after them. That bakery girl also has to go. She’s… a liability.”

Dream hummed. “She’s close friends with your enemies. Is getting her on you bad side a good idea?”

“What is she gonna do? I’m the president. They can do nothing about me.”

“Death is permanent; I’ll have you know.”

He hears Schlatt chuckling, but gets no answer about that. Instead, the man looks at him for a second, before taking out a bottle out of his inventory, and two glasses.

“Not a real problem. Quackity is next in line. They ain’t getting rid of us so easily.”

“You sound confident.”

“I am”.

The sound of the drink pouring in the glass became clearer as both challenged each other in a silent contest.

“With your help, we could get rid of them faster.”

He huffed a laugh. “My help? Why would I help you, of all persons?”

“Revenge.”

Ah, so he’s going with that.

“I know that Wilbur came and demanded a part of your land, leaving no space for refusal. If you helped me, we could get rid of everything he worked so much to create.”

Dream drum his fingers on the arm, appearing bored and uninterested.

“Shall I remind you that I helped them get away before? Who’s to say I’m not on their side?”

“Well I heard that the details of the deal were done behind walls. No one is really sure how Wilbur got you to agree to his terms. There’s also an history of things that that idiot did to annoy you, and ruin your lands. That’s why,” Schlatt rested his head in one of his hands, looking a Dream like he had figured it all. “I’m pretty sure he is holding something against you. Which I want to help you get back.”

…What an idiot. All this was based on assumptions he had made.
Which is actually good for him. It meant that he could trust George and Sapnap to be quiet about what actually went down during negotiations. It also means that Tommy and Wilbur kept in silence about that too with almost everyone/

“That doesn’t explain why I should help you.” Dream pointed out, voice twisted in a mostly fake irritation. “Getting rid of Wilbur and Tommy would cost me allies, and materials.”
He continued, standing, ignoring Schlatt’s incredulous look. “Did you think, that if I wanted, they would’ve already be gone? Revenge, I’ve learnt, is better when you take your sweet time. And if anything, I don’t really need your help. So tell me, Schlatt. Why would I help you? Why should I lose so much to support you?”.

Silence.
He internally curses. Did he mess up? Did he show too much? Overdid the intimidation? Tried to get too much from the new president?
He turns his back to Schlatt, and sighs.

“That’s what I–”

“What if you could revive people?”

Stop.
Shifting his stance, he looks at Schlatt from the corner of his eye, genuine interest escaping him.

(That’s fine. You have to be honest to some degree, or they’re gonna notice your fear, your doubt. Remember the lessons, Dream).

“What do you mean?”

“That, exactly.”

A light comes from Schlatt hands, and the familiar leather cover from the revival book appears in his hands, brought from the hybrid’s inventory. He turns completely to Schlatt.

“This is the revival book, something I found around. A relic capable of breaking the rules of the living.”

He acts as if he’s thinking about it.

“Dream,” Schlatt mumbles, extending the book towards him. “I want to be your vessel”.

TNT, death.
His own downfall and soon the server’s too. Most started over this words. He gulps, mouth no longer a straight line but an uncomfortable frown.

This is it.

This is the beginning of the end.

The book, now in his hands, feels heavy. Thankfully, George and Sapnap always know how to make him feel lighter.

Chapter Text

He was homeless, no matter how much he fought Techno about it.

Not because he didn’t have a house. He did, actually. A very big house, plastered wall to wall with chests filled to the top with potions and materials, food and weapons, armor and… nothing more.

Once he left George and Sapnap behind, he stopped taking anything else that didn’t have any use in fights. His old discs, or the flowers he used to collect, or construction materials that he kept in case anyone wanted to build something; everything was gone.

An old habit from the military.

It wasn’t the biggest house in the server, but it was one of the most secure, and probably the only place that was completely made for an actual war.

But it wasn’t a home.

During his time as a wanderer, he met lots of people. One of them was a small family formed by a father, a mother, a young girl, only daughter of the marriage, and a cat. They adopted him, and he soon grew to be a son, an older brother.
He learnt with them that you could have a house, but true home was only with those you could call ‘family’.

They were his last ‘family’, the last group of people he got attached to before finally sealing the egg and escaping from the server, forever hiding his face under a mask in an attempt to cover his past from the new people he met.

When he met Sapnap, and Bad, he found himself wanting a family again. Wanting a home again.
And hey, the egg was gone, so he let himself indulge in those feelings. George joined soon after, and voilá. A family. After years of grief, and pain, he finally recovered that which he lost so long ago.

The egg was gone.

The egg was gone and so he invited them to his lands, to create a house where his family could live together, safely.

The egg was gone, so he accepted new people, new friends. More family.

The egg was gone.

But his family soon cracked under the pressure of greed.

The egg was gone, and he still had Sapnap, and Bad and George.

The egg was…
back.

But he still had–…

No one.

He had no one. He had nothing. He lost his original family to the egg, and then he lost his new family to the land, and then he lost everything else in his desperation to salvage the stupid place.

He lost.
And even if he had the biggest base, or the better armament. If he had the best allies, and the best lands… he was still homeless.

_______________________________________________________________________

Schlatt follows up with getting rid of Nikki.

It’s far quicker that he thought it’d be, but credit where it’s due; Nikki endured a lot of shit before exploding and acting up.

Three weeks pass by after he and Schlatt make the deal, and the man is ready to torture some more the poor people that reside the newborn nation, finally dropping the L in L’manburg’s name.
Is soon after the second speech, where he sits in his usual roof, looking at every single one of the citizens of L’man– Manberg. He knows second-handedly what happened to Nikki, because at the time, he was leaving the nation to go help Punz with something not that important.

He comes back the next day, directly to the bakery, only to find Tubbo alone on the steps, most of the building in a condition in which it hadn’t been the past day, almost completely destroyed.

The minor talks about how the woman had screamed and punched Schlatt in the face before Quackity body slammed her and then proceeded to drag her into a small jail, accusing her of treason and screaming about exile and executions. He says that, during the night, TNT exploded the cell’s wall, and when anyone got there, it was far too late.

(He doesn’t mention that Tubbo has a smile when he looks at him during the retelling of Nikki’s escape, in front of the bakery. He says nothing when the minor gives him some cookies that were definitely not baked by him. If the teen walks towards the same direction Pogtopia is, once Dream and him have waved their goodbyes, Schlatt knows nothing from Dream.

If Nikki is finally having a moment to breath around Wilbur and Techno, Manberg doesn’t need to know.

If Tommy looks happier, calmer, and more excited when Dream visits the ravine again, is nothing to mention).

Dream tries to remember what happened around this time in the original timeline.
During this time, the first war was about to end. Around this time, Wilbur counted up to ten, and he and Tommy fired their bows, both desperate to end the foolish war for power and land.

However, during this period, Nikki still lived inside the walls of Manberg. Quackity was already fighting Schlatt’s control. He hadn’t joined Pogtopia’s efforts yet, and Fundy was–

Shit.

Fundy.

He has no idea what Fundy had going up during Manberg and Pogtopia’s rise, so he was a wild card. The hybrid supports Manberg during most of the confrontation. But Dream couldn’t remember if he ended up with Pogtopia or not. They weren’t close by any means, but he didn’t want the hybrid getting actually hurt in a dispute that wasn’t his.

This early in the day, meetings were usually held, but his orders where immediate and so he was technically free from assisting.

Today, plans were a little different.
Instead of checking in with Schlatt as he usually did, he spent all morning with George, Sapnap away helping Karl build a tower for a ‘joke honeymoon’ (and if they only knew…), just fooling around the community house. However, when the sun stood tall in the middle of the sky, he waved his friend a goodbye and adventured to the nether.

Now, if he was being honest, the nether brought terrible memories. The crimson vines that seemed to approach him when he wasn’t looking, and the distressing sensation that slowly ate him alive as he walked through the familiar yet forgotten paths did nothing for his deploring mental health, but as much as he hated it, it was something necessary.

After what seemed like hours of traveling, he finally found the spot. Without the portal, it felt really different, but he came prepared.
The obsidian blocks felt heavy in his hands. The texture whispered of months in prison and a painful period of abandonment. It was different from the crying obsidian that seemed to burn him every time he got near it (even if it didn’t really), and yet it was so similar.

He snapped back to reality when a pain on his hands called for his attention. One of his fingers had been slightly crushed between the flint and steel, but it was so faint that it wouldn’t even bruise. Shaking his head as if that would yeet everything bad from his head away, he focused on lighting the new-made structure in front of him.
Purple particles flew in his direction and like fire, the portal expanded, encased to the obsidian walls. Then he stepped in, welcomed by a sea of sand.

His shovel appeared in his hand with a simple wave, invoked from the magic pocket that was his inventory. The enchantments hummed softly, trembling under his fingers. Dream hopped that the tool would hold nicely, because he wasn’t sure if the potions to fix it were in his ender chest.

Well, that TNT wouldn’t appear out of thin air.

He wondered if he could actually appear TNT out of thin air after the whole time travel shit. He hadn’t really tried to use his admin powers since early on the original timeline.

Even if he did, he wouldn’t. Especially not for Schlatt.

______________________________________________________________________

“Oh hey, you’re finally visiting again. Thought I might have scared you off after the whole Pogtopia mess up.”

He scoffed. “Please, I fuck up once and you think I’m scared. Have some respect, bacon.”

The piglin hybrid huffed a laugh, setting potatoes in one of the chests.
“But real talk now, you seemed like a ghost had spoken to you. You sure you’re fine, smiley?”

“Better than ever, I’d say”.

They both know it’s a lie, but none say a thing, and they continue their talk.

“Well, if you say so. What’s up then? What brings you to my not at all humble abode?”

He sits on top of another chest, crossing his legs and supporting his elbows on the thighs.

“Can’t I just visit my good friend Techno-chan?”

“Call me that again and kiss one of your three lives goodbye.”

He giggled, mischievous smile hidden under the mask.
“What, my good friend, or Techno-chan?”

“Both if you appreciate your neck.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, it sounds really cool as a nickname. What do you think Wilbur would say? Or Tommy?”

If looks could kill.
He rises his hands in mockery surrender, having a hard time to hold his laughter back. The hybrid rolls his eyes, and goes back to putting the potatoes in the chest.

“So? How’s being a double agent?”

“It sucks,” he admits, not a hint of doubt escaping him (because there isn’t), “And I’m fucking sore. I spent a whole day grinding sand, out of all the things I could do.” He growls, genuine annoyment in his voice. “He made me destroy an entire desert just for sand. It drained me from any will to live, I swear.”

Humming, Techno sat on a chest in front of Dream.

“Think he’s planning on blowing up Manberg?”

“Well, that or he just wants really big windows. But he also asked me to get a shit ton of gunpowder, so…”

“Sounds like my kind of guy. What would happen if I joined him?”

Dream inhaled deeply.
“Please don’t”

If the hybrid wanted to help Schlatt, and nothing he did would stop him, and his mission would become ten times harder.
It was also worth mentioning that Techno could sell him out.
(Would he? That wasn’t the kind of approach Techno would usually take, but the hybrid had shot Tubbo under pressure. It was a risk he couldn’t really take. What could he do to secure his position? What would he do if the other just decided to betray Pogtopia because he was bored or just because he thought it wasn’t a “fair battle” or something? what would he do against Techno? Liked it or not, his rival had the upper hand when talking about strength. Maybe he could win in the long game but–).

“Relax, nerd, I can hear you overthinking from here.”

When did he stopped breathing?

“’M not joining him. I think it’s a coward move to hide for so long to just appear and win. Underhanded tactic and it sucks. I don’t really owe him nothing either”

Interesting. Originally Techno owed Schlatt a favor from before the piglin hybrid joined the server. Could it be that Dream’s meddling changed that? Because if so, he thanked whatever was up there for his sudden idea to invite the other man long before they had in the original timeline.

Dream shrugs. “Well we’re not saints either.”

“But there’s honor in what we do.”

“There is?”

It is a legit question, but this time there’s no answer. Techno shrugs too.

“Just don’t be dramatic about it, I don’t know”

“I guess you’re right.”

With that, Dream stood up, jumping from his position.

“Well, the gunpowder isn’t appearing out of nowhere, so I better get going.”

“You want help with that?”

Dream tilted his head, curious and confused, looking at Techno, who was smirking at him, a silent challenge implied in the offer. Despite the mask still being there, he copied the hybrid’s expression.

“I’m so getting more creepers than you.”

“You wish, Teletubby.”

Silence.

Then, both dashed to the door. Used to the trill of running, Dream got there first, closing the door in Techno’s face, using a random tool that was laying against the wall to block of the entrance, and running again as if life depended on it.

The sound of wood splintering warned Dream that his rival was already out and following closely, but that didn’t stop him at all. If anything, that was the motivation he needed to sprint faster through the snowy woods, running against a tree and bouncing on the log to reach the higher branches in an attempt to use them as a new path, easily avoiding the snow in the ground and with that the slowing effect that the half solid material had.

“Good luck, Bacon!”

“You’re needing it more than I do, smiley!”

He wins, by a single piece of gunpowder that he accidentally found on the ground while meeting up with the hybrid later that day. He was pretty lucky with the drops, after all.

________________________________________________________________

“You shouldn’t take this long to come back.” He warns Tubbo, who jumps surprised at the sudden comment.

The minor, who seem to have thought he was alone, turns to him, a terrified expression, up until the point when he realized Dream was the one to find him.

“Jeez, Dream. You scared me to death!”

(Trust is such a bitter thing, because it gives you hope.

Dream presses the nails of one of his hands against the cloth that covers the other arm, not knowing how to feel. Should he get used to this? To people trusting him, treating him not like an enemy or a threat, but like a friend? Like a random person who just got involved in a lot of shit but wasn’t really dangerous?

Part of him wanted to.

Just embrace the feeling of other people caring about him. Of finally belonging in the family he had work so hard to maintain together.
He had done things right this time. He had learned, he had changed.

Was he allowed to accept all of this?)

“Sorry, Tubs. Saw you coming and had to stop you. Schlatt is over there and he was, well, curious. Haven’t seen you all day.”

There’s an underlying warning on his tone, and Tubbo freezes, biting his lip nervously.

“Now, we were just reuniting more bees, I don’t think there’s any trouble. Although it’s a shame we got chased away by wolfs. There were a lot of bees and we lost them all,” Dream sighed with fake shame. “We’ll just have to get back there one of this days.”

Come on, Tubbo. Don’t do Dream like this, he’s not crazy (yet).
A lightbulb lit up on top of the minor, who smiled brightly at Dream, finally understanding the almost nonsensical ramble of the older one.

“Thanks, Dream.”

“Now, thank me when we get those bees. We can bring someone else with us too, next time we go. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great!”

He was about to keep talking, but Schlatt appeared on the corner of his vision. He turned his head towards the president, who seemed upset and kinda drunk. There are some bandages covering his nose (and hot damn, Nikki hits hard). His relaxed posture transformed instantly, and he couldn’t look at himself, but he was sure that to anyone else, he could’ve been a complete different person.

“Where were you?”

Dream hums.

“Be more specific. As far as I know neither of us were in Manberg today.”

“Both.”

He can feel Tubbo flinching besides him, and Dream frowns. He gives one step to the front, a silent protection to the boy now behind him.

“We went to look for bees for his sanctuary. Why?”

“I was looking for you all over the place, that’s fucking why!”

“Well, we’re here now. What’s the problem?”

“You can’t just fucking leave for a whole fucking day without warning. There’s shit to do! If you’re on a high position you’re supposed to do your fucking work.”

“We’re here now,” He repeats, voice leaning towards a dangerous tone. “If any trouble raised, you could’ve just sent a message. The comms are for that.”

“Fucking… Fine. Whatever. Just warn me next time you two want to go fuck around with flies of whatever. Fuck.”

The ram hybrid turns around, back in display for the admin and the minor, and started walking away, only stopping when he realized neither were following him. Then he looks at them, murderous glare.

“Well? You stayin’ here to waste more time or you’re coming?”

Rolling his eyes, Dream turns towards Tubbo, who doesn’t look too happy but nods anyways, and starts to follow. Dream does the same, walking just behind Tubbo. The travel to the white house feels a lot longer than it is, and the silence that accompanies them is tense and frustrating. Schlatt basically kicks the door open, scaring the younger one, (and kinda startling him), and enters, not waiting for them.

“Hey!” Quackity’s voice complains. “The fucking door, man! You’re gonna break it!”

“Shut the fuck up, Quackity, I’m busy.”

“Busy doing– oh”

Tubbo enters first, fiddling with his hands uncomfortably, not daring to make eye contact with the business man. Dream enters second, still acting all big and mighty despite feeling like he might puke and pass out any second, stomach revolting like the middle of the sea during a storm.
Quackity… looks like shit.

The man looks tired, big purple bags under his eyes, a couple of scrapes and band-aids over his face. There’s a big bruise that’s not covered by the neck of the shirt. The rest looks nice. Too nice.
Dream remembers the scar that used to cover future Quackity’s face, made by Technoblade after the execution attempt. It’s not there, and the man looks really different without it. He looks… softer? and less intimidating, less dangerous. Scratch that actually, tired didn’t cut it. Quackity seemed exhausted.

Worry jumped in his heart.

If he was honest, part of him looked at Quackity and instantly said “Good. This is what he deserves.”

But the rest of him didn’t agree with that, not really.
Quackity is not a good person, but holy fuck. No one deserves torture. No one deserves to be undermined and treated like less than a person. Especially not by someone who’s supposed to care about you, to love you, and help you.

(Like Sam was supposed to do.

Like everyone who captured him and put him in prison– that fucking hell– was supposed to do.

But at this point, Dream recognized and accepted the fact that he wasn’t a person.
So it didn’t matter).

Quackity groaned, shifting his stance so his face couldn’t be seen, focusing on whatever was on his hands at the time.

“Just don’t break the door. I can’t keep replacing it every week.”

“I said, shut up!”

The vice president doesn’t answer this time, and Schlatt continues walking to the office. Tubbo and him look at Quackity, lingering there for a few seconds, finally exchanging a look before following the hybrid.

Tubbo closed the door behind them, softly. If Dream hadn’t seen, he probably wouldn’t have noticed; that’s how softly the minor moved. (And that wasn’t good. Teens are supposed to be chaotic, and loud, like Tommy was. Neither of them was supposed to be quiet, to walk tiptoed around their city, to be afraid. Dream had already messed them up once. They had suffered and cried and become husks of themselves, personalities transforming from kids to soldiers because of him. He wasn’t going to allow this to happen again).

“So? What is it?”

“Fundy reported to me that Wilbur and Tommy found Nikki. She’s apparently staying with them in an undisclosed- hip- place.”

“And?” He asked, real annoyance in his voice.

“And,” Schlatt answered, venom behind the single word, “I want you to find and detain her.”

What?

“What?” Tubbo asked, voicing the same thoughts Dream had.

“She’s a hazard. She was supposed to be in jail, not around two dangerous criminals.”

“Dangerous criminals? That what we calling them?” Dream scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Tommy might be an idiot but Wilbur isn’t. He’s dangerous, and with her help, who knows what could happen to our great nation.”

“So you’re scared of Nikki?”

“That fucking hell of a woman needs to be contained.” Schlatt grumbled, not really answering his question but still stating his opinion.

“Is that all? You just want us to find Nikki and bring her back?”

“Something like that. How’s the recollection going?”

He hums. “Half of the materials are already in a chest. Tho it’s gonna take a lot more of time to get everything you need. The desert is half empty already, and creepers are harder to find.”

(Tubbo isn’t in his line of vision but Dream knows the minor has frozen. Good, that means he understands what Dream is trying to warn him).

“Good. Just a week and you’ve gotten far.”

“Can believe a whole month has passed since the elections,” Dream admitted, hand rising to his own chin in a thinking gesture. “Time sure flies.”

“That it does,” Schlatt seemed to relax, a pleasant (not at all) smile plastered in his face. “I’m thinking on doing something to… celebrate, such perfect moment. I’m thinking maybe two more weeks? I have a lot of things planned for this day. It’s gonna be big!!”

“How big?” He asks.

“Enormous. The whole country will be filled with decorations and beers!”

He nodded absentmindedly, not really interested in whatever plans Schlatt had if they weren’t plans.

“But we still have time to prepare for that. Right now your orders are that. I want that woman in the local prison.”

(If Dream stops breathing for a second when the word is out, no one notices).

“And don’t fucking get lost again. You report to me every fucking morning, or I’m getting rid of you, fucking kid.” The Hybrid warns, pointing to Tubbo, who cowers slightly, giving a couple of steps back and half hiding behind Dream.

“Y-…yes sir!”

Did Schlatt need his horns? Would it be a bitch move if Dream cut them off?
Now, now. Violence isn’t always the answer.
As appealing as it sounded.

Tubbo turned around first, aiming for the door. A small creaking sound announced Dream that the minor was already out.

“Are you covering for him, Dream?”

Schlatt question doesn’t really sound like a question, and for a second Dream feels… exposed. Like every single secret is out in the open. He can’t help but wonder if this is it. If his cover is blown and Schlatt is about to attack him.

(The book is already in his hands. If anything, Dream could just betray him right now, leave everyone else on their own and just burn everything to the ground with Wilbur.

It would be so easy to just laugh and accept his fault, to take Tubbo with him and escape from the place).

(But Fundy… Karl… Jack…

Hell. Fucking Quackity, who looked like he might die if just slightly pushed…

It wouldn’t be fair…)

So Dream lies.

“Hmm? Nah. We went for some bees. Some of the ones in the kid’s sanctuary died recently and he asked for it nicely, so I accompanied him”.

“I saw no bees.” Schlatt pointed out.

But the story was already planned, and Dream continued with the cover-up smoothly.

“We tried to bring them but Tubbo hit a wolf by accident and we had to run from a pack of them and lost the bees in the way. I might go look for them tomorrow, or during the week.”

Schlatt hummed, saying nothing else.

“Well, if that’s that, I have things to do. Bye Schlatt.”

“Until later, Dream.”

Tubbo is already down the stairs, and Quackity is nowhere to be seen.
The two of them walk outside, leaving the terrible place in silence. It’s fun, to look at the stars that are slowly appearing in the darkening sky, and both point out random constellations that probably aren’t right; at the time, neither cares, it is not important.

Chapter Text

When Dream first spawned in the world, there wasn’t a lot to do. Most of his time was spent traveling in the different biomes that composed the land, and surviving, for the most.

Building was for those who needed a place to permanently stay, as it took far too much time to do. Unnecessary if you weren’t using it, or at least admiring it.
The thing is that, as many things, building is so… ephemeral. The many houses and kingdoms that stood all around the overworld were nothing more than ruins nowadays, and sometimes not even that.

There’s one thing that never disappears, though.

It’s not something unique from his server; every single world that is created has the same structures, older than anything. Even him, a wanderer that had existed for many decades now, never saw the ruins before they were… well… ruins.

The stronghold was something he was used to seeing. His status on the further lands as a speedrunner, someone who could find the ruins and defeat the dragon from the end dimension, was part of the reason he knew how to explore the place easily, slipping between the monsters and finding invaluable treasures in the forgotten chests that were found in the majestic and mysterious place, even with the random generation and the mazes that formed each time to protect the portal.

It’s just… he never entered a stronghold before traveling outside of his server.

He saw the walls that indicated the existence of one, and he touched the pattern-textured stone, connecting with it in a weird way, but he never entered, and something heavily suggested that he never should.
So he didn’t.

He asked the same from his new friends once he reopened the doors to the server, and despite the loss in materials that came with an unopened portal, no one ever retaliated against that. Complained, sure, but at least they respected his petition, even when he was painted as the villain.

But one day, once the mental y physical scars that came with imprisonment and abandonment had stopped aching, and he finally felt comfortable enough to talk with his sparring partner, he wondered:

“I’m surprised no one ever opened the end portal. I know I asked you all not to, but I’m surprised everyone listened”.

“The what?”

Neither Puffy, or Ranboo, or even Philza Minecraft, the one that had survived longer than any of them in harsher lands and worse conditions, knew what his words meant.

Karl stared at him with confusion at the mention of an ‘end portal’.

“You know, the portal that goes to the end dimension, the origin from all endermen, and usually the endgame for travelers in their different worlds!”

“Dream, are you sure you’re not like, remembering a dream you had? Or like, something from a book or,… i don’t know! anything?”

He groaned, frustration settling in.

“Karl, come on! It’s one of the most important things for a server, a world to have! It’s like literally the whole reason I’m called a speedrunner! Or… I was called, anyways.”

It was clear that the time traveler was trying with all his might to remember, but it proved to be useless, and after a few seconds, Karl shook his head a no.

“I don’t even remember what you were trying to speedrun. The manhunts–” Karl muttered, a hand in his forehead, slowly massaging it in an attempt to bring the memories back from the void. “I don’t remember.”

Dream sighed that day, his back against the wall, angry at such stupid occurrence.

“I’m sorry, Dream”

“It’s fine, Karl.”

But it is not.
It doesn’t make sense.

How did everyone just suddenly forget about an entire dimension? When did it happen? Why?

Not that it mattered, not really.
As red vines covered the once green land, filling it with destruction and despair, forgetting an unapproachable dimension was really the least important thing at the time.

Surviving, on the other hand, was a more difficult and urgent thing to do.

________________________________________________________________________

“Dream!”

He turned around, worried at the panic that was audible in Tubbo’s voice.

“Tubbo? What happened?”

“Dream, you have to come! You have to help me!”

“Tubbo, what is it?”

The teen grabbed his arm by the long gloves he usually wore, pulling desperately in an attempt to drag him somewhere. He puts no resistance, and even walks along with the kid to make it easier for both to get to the place Tubbo so insistently is trying to get him to.

“It’s Nikki! Jack and Quackity found her by Sapnap’s and Karl’s tower and they’re trying to capture her!”

That sentence alone was enough to drive Dream into a flight or flight response. He took the transmisor out of his pocket and quickly texted something to Sapnap. Not even bothering to check his spelling or wait for an answer, he looked at Tubbo and said:

“Stay here.”

Then, in a single move, he sprinted towards the direction in which the assault was taking place.

“But– Dream!!”

“Stay!”

And with that, he went out of listening range, no longer able to hear Tubbo’s calls.
He ignored everything in his way, masterly zig-zagging through the woods and skidding in the closed curves like the professional he was.
Then, finally, the clearing where the lake was appeared in front of him.

His breathing was slightly erratic, but he wasn’t tired.

The first thing he saw, against a tree near the lake, was Quackity’s back, and soon after Jack’s body, both cornering the smaller form of Nikki.
His first reaction was dashing to them to get both away from the female, but mid movement, he stopped.

Quackity is Schlatt right hand. Jack, maybe he could get away with. But Quackity? A single mistake and Dream was gone.

He groaned and forced his posture into the fake, practiced one, slowly walking towards the three.

“I see you found her.”

Jack turns towards him, uncertain face turned into a panicked one.
Quackity scoffed.

“A job you should’ve get done days ago. Aren’t you like, super trained or something? How did fucking Jack found her before you, and on accident?”

He hummed in fake disinterest. “I don’t know, Quackity. How did that black eye got there?”

Now the younger one looked at him, a furious glance sent his way.

“Fucking– you wanna fucking go, man? That what you want?”

“Would you win? I bet I could beat you with a single hand. Probably with a blindness effect too.”

“You–!”

“Quackity!” Jack complained.

Clicking his tongue, Quackity drifted his attention back to Nikki, who was looking at him, frowning in frustration.

“Whatever. Just help us get here back to Manberg.”

“Dream, come on!” Nikki begged. “Are you really gonna help them? Jack?”

Jack turned his head away, uncomfortable and feeling terribly guilty by the looks of it.

He sighed.
“Work is work, Nikki, nothing personal.”

“You–!”

“I don’t think so, Dream.”

He turned around, happy that his excitement was hidden by the mask.
There, riding horses, Sapnap, Ant and Bad stood proudly.

“I’m afraid to tell you this, muffinheads, but this zone is property of the Smp faction, and Nikki is a refugee! You’re not allowed to touch her!”

Groaning, Quackity lowered somewhat his weapon.

“Fuck off–”

“Language!!”

“–You dickheads. She’s an enemy of the state and we are here to take her back to Manberg.”

“That’s not happening,” Sapnap said, getting off the horse. “As Bad just said, she’s a refugee. You have no jurisdition over her in this place.”

…Did Sap just–

“Juri…what?”

“Jurisdition!”

Quackity snorted, Bad looked away, and Dream covered his mouth over the mask.

“Sapnap, it’s ”jurisdiction“”, Ant corrected, a small smile and a pitying look in his face.

“What?”

“Jurisdiction, Snapmap. It’s jurisdiction, no jurisdition.”

“Shut up, Dream!! That’s what I said!”

“No! It’s not!”

“Of course it is!”

“Is not!”

“It is!”

“Is no–”

“Guys, guys. I know you’re having fun but we all have things to do and, well…” Nikki interrupted the bickering. “Also, you did say jurisdition, Sapnap.”

“Nikki! Do you want to be rescued or not?!”

“Oh! yeah. Sorry. Continue.”

Sapnap huffed, clearing his throat before continuing again.

“Like I said,” And then the serious tone of the moment restarted, like someone had hit the ‘play’ button in a remote. “You have no jurisdition over–”

“Sapnap!”

“Oh, come on–!”

“Enough!” Quackity yelled, stopping the discussion from happening once again, the smile that he had a few moments ago gone, replaced by a stone cold glare directed to everyone in front of him.

“I don’t give a fuck about your stupid rules. She’s a criminal. She’s getting jailed. I’m not asking for your fucking opinion or permission. Now get out of the fucking way.”

“Quackity, let Nikki walk to us.”

Sapnap sword glinted at the sun’s reflection, the point of the weapon directed at Quackity. Dream slowly walked, putting himself in the middle.

“Sapnap, I’ll– I’ll have to intervene.”

He couldn’t look at Quackity, but judging by Sapnap grimace, the business man was most likely grinning at them, mocking them in a silent manner at the supposed superiority that they possessed thanks to Dream’s support.
To the rest it probably looked like Dream was actually on Quackity’s side.

Good.

The wind blew fiercely. His hair brushed against the mask, not that he could feel it, and it moved Sapnap’s and Ant’s hair– and Bad’s hoodie– in a similar way. No one dared to speak, letting the silence sink to their bones, a silent and fake competition of bravery; who would dare attack their friend first?

And then, a snap. An arrow breaking the quietude with its speed, and Sapnap barely was able to bring the shield up in time to block the ammunition that almost hit his face. Behind the shot, Jack’s uncomfortable form in a shooting stance, his expression twisting into regret for a second or two before going back to the uncertain precaution.

All hell got lose. Bad drew his sword and ran towards Jack, getting quickly intercepted by Dream who slid on the ground, catching the confused demon off ward. He positioned his own weapon in a defensive way, just in time to cover Bad’s startled blow. Soon, he pushed and did the same towards Sapnap’s axe, who quickly joined the fight.

The one he was unable to cover for, was Ant, who dodged Dream’s attempt at stopping him with amazing proficiency, running straight to Quackity. The business man swung his sword clumsily, almost dropping it when Ant stroke hit, not ready for the strength behind it.

“Dream!”

“I’m busy!” He growled, dodging a low swing by jumping, kicking Bad on one arm, making him step back hissing softly, falling in an almost crouching position, in time to evade Sapnap’s axe one more time.

“Well, fucking Jack, do something!”

“But Nikki–!”

“Shut the fuck up and help me!”

Dream focused once again on his little dance with his friends. It was hard, not a single second to breath; if Sapnap stood back, Bad quickly covered, and vice versa. Bad might not be the best fighter, but the support that he lends to Sapnap make both a deadly duo. However, no matter how well the two teamed up were, Dream had experience from over a lifetime to back him up, and soon Bad messed up.

The demon groaned once he fell to the ground, his weapon forgotten a few feet to the side. Everything seemed to stop the moment Dream’s sword pointed at Bad.
An aggressive meow came from behind him, announcing to Dream that the distraction had been used to defeat Antfrost too.

“It’s over,’ he sighed, lowering slightly his sword, ready to back down. ”We won.“

Slam!

Dream turned his attention towards his ‘team’. Quackity painfully whimpers when a hoof pressed down on his chest. The mocking expression that his rival wore welcoming him.

“Yeah, I don’t think so, Dream.”

Huffing, Dream completely retreated his sword.

“Technoblade. Wasn’t expecting you here. Quite rude to come uninvited, really.”

“Oh, I’ve been invited, don’t know if I can say the same about you.”

“Hey, I’m always invited everywhere. People love me!”

“I’m sure.”

From what now was behind him, he heard Sapnap helping Bad up. On the other side, Jack stepped back, leaving Ant alone, who barely recovered and limped towards Nikki, who worked as a crutch for the cat hybrid.

“Hey, could you let Quackity free? I think you’re breaking one of his ribs.”

Techno looked down on the other man, who was trying to push his feet away from his own body, gasping for air desperately.

“Hmm. Will you guys go away and leave Nikki here alone?”

Dream hummed, fake doubt laced in his voice, tapping fingers on his mask, his sword’s tip slightly pressed against the dirt under them.

“I don’t know. What do you think, Quackity? Should I do my job? Do you mind losing a live if it means Nikki is in jail?”

The younger one wheezed his next words. “Fuck you, Dream.”

Dream felt really guilty.
(Was he doing this as an act? Was this really necessary? He knew by experience that Techno wouldn’t hesitate to kill both Quackity and Jack, and then go after him, even if this was all mostly planned.
It was a lost fight, the script said so.

Why was he dragging this out?

He wanted to think that it was just for the sake of covering his own butt. That it was an attempt at not getting discovered.

But his mind still thought of long days of painful abuse. Of fearing tools– that had been part of his daily life– for months, for years. Even now.

The unyielding knowledge that, deep down, this was an unjustified revenge over someone who had done nothing but a little mistake. Someone who was suffering something horrible and someone who was just desperate to reach his dreams, even if he hadn’t taken the right choice.

Similar to Dream, in a way.

And hell didn’t Icarus fall for the same thing? Trying to reach the sun in the wrong way, against all warnings?

Was Quackity a monster for trying to reach the sun?

He was a bad person, sure. But even he deserved the chance to correct his ways and grow. If Dream had the opportunity, when he was nothing but a monster, why couldn’t Quackity, who was just a mistaken soul?

Maybe, if the younger one had the support, the help. Maybe if Quackity was helped…

Maybe…)

Dream sighs. “You win. We’re outnumbered. Let him up before you crush him to death. You can take Nikki.”

“No– wait–”

Techno ignored Quackity, turning towards Dream, huffing in disappointment.
“You sure? We can still like… fight a little bit.”

“Nah, I’m sure. I can probably take you alone, but not you, Sapnap and Bad.”

The slightest hint of emotion drowned in the piglin’s eyes.

“Man. What a letdown. Whatever.”

The hybrid stepped back, finally letting the young business man free, who quickly turned on the ground, gasping and coughing painfully.

Techno then turned towards Sapnap and Bad.

“Well, there you go. Go away now, you’re making too much noise.”

“First,” Sapnap pointed in a dangerous voice. “This three have to go back to Manberg. You’re no longer welcome on Monarch Eret’s lands, Jack, Quackity.”

Dream snorted a silent laugh, walking to Quackity, helping him stand.

“Go. Now.”

And like that, Quackity, Jack and him slowly parted from the lake, a sense of defeat surrounding them. Dream won’t mention the fact that Jack looks back once; mostly because he doesn’t care, but also because he is busy helping Quackity walk.

When they reach Manberg, Tubbo is waiting for them at the entrance, a worried face that soon transforms into relief and finally into a sheepish smile as he realizes Nikki isn’t with them, but two of the three members are injured. The kid mouths a thank you, answered with a small nod on Dream’s part, before acting back like the shy, weak kid he acted like when Quackity or Schlatt were nearby.

“Uh… Schlatt… he is waiting for you two in the white house.”

Quackity groaned, frustrated noise that came off like a strangled cry, but said nothing otherwise and let Dream direct them to the building where the president was waiting for them.
The door was open, and he waited for no invitation as he entered, dragging the other man closely. Then, he dropped with care the injured one on one of the sofas.

“What are you doing? Schlatt is waiting for us.”

“I’ll handle him.” Dream waved off in an uninterested manner.

Quackity scoffed. “Don’t act like you care and fucking help me get there. We’re gonna get in trouble.”

“I said I’ll handle him. You’re in no condition to go up any more stairs, and Schlatt’s a dick. He can do shit to you, but can’t do shit to me. Rest properly and all that stuff.”

He leaves the man behind, leaving no space for discussion, jumping on the stairs to reach the last floor.
He opened the office door. The gross smell of alcohol hit him in the face, making him somewhat dizzy. The chair in front of him turned slightly, and Schlatt’s unhappy face welcomed Dream.

“So you failed.”

He muses a yes. “Did Jack tell you?”

“Something like that. Care for an explanation?”

“Technoblade arrived on the scene. I was already handling two people, and no one could cover for me so we were kinda fucked anyways.”

The other man sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with so much strength that after a single movement, the skin under it came out reddish.

“You keep failing, Dream. Failing and disappointing me. I already gave you something really valuable, really important. Is this how you pay me, Dream? Is this all the fucking shit you can give me back after I gave you so fucking much?”

“I’ll admit that it’s been quite… difficult. Getting a hold of Tommy and Wilbur is not easy, and finding Nikki was just as difficult. I have other responsibilities too, you know that, right?”

“Do I look like I give a fuck about your stupid responsibilities? You have a responsibility with me, you fucking–,” He stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“And Quackity?”

“I fucked up and he got injured. He is resting.”

“Of fucking course. Fucking amazing.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“He better be, for both of your sakes.”

Dream flinched slightly, confused at the fact that Schlatt was basically threatening him.

‘What are you gonna do?,’ Dream thought. ‘Baa me to death? call your other three loyal citizens on me?’.

“Don’t look so fucking confident, you shit. You think the revival book was the only shitty thing I’ve got? i will fucking show you, if you keep failing like this.”

Honest to the higher beings fear settled on his gut, before it dispelled on a single truth. He had already gone through almost all. What could Schlatt do against him, of all people? After a whole life of losing and fighting? After the army, and the torture. After Pandora’s vault, and Quackity, and the months, maybe years of isolation. After everything the egg did to Dream.

What the fuck could Schlatt even do?

Still, he nodded, faking understanding and caution.

“Good. Now get the fuck out of my face. Fucking hell.”

Dream does.
When he goes down, Quackity is fast asleep on the coach.

________________________________________________________

“You lost! You lost!” Sapnap sang, pointing at Dream with a mischievous smile in his lips. “Oh my god you lost so bad! You had to give up and everything! What a fucking loser!”

“Language!” Bad screamed from the kitchen.

Dream huffed, elbows supported on the table, his head on top of his hands.

“You were totally losing. Thankfully we warned Pogtopia and got reinforcements, because you were losing so badly and there was no way we could’ve turned the tides like that.”

“You’re just a sore loser because we totally kicked your ass.”

“Whatever, jurisdiction”

“You fucking— “

“Language!”

Nikki giggled, her hand grabbing the end of a bandage she was applying on Ant’s leg.

“That was such a mess. I’m so sorry it came to that. I didn’t think I would find anyone from Manberg on my way from Eret’s castle. I’m lucky Jack panicked, because if he had followed me to Pogtopia…”

George hummed in agreement, more focused on whatever book he was reading at the time that in the conversation, but listening either way.

Techno shrugged. “You’re only lucky I was nearby. It would’ve taking too long to help otherwise.”

“Still took your sweet time,” Dream pointed out. “Almost beat Sapnap’s ass.”

The blaze hybrid gasped, offended.

“Liar!”

“Dream would’ve totally kicked your ass, Sapnap.”

“George, I will not stand for this slander.”

“Good, because it’s not. Just the truth.”

“George!”

“Sapnap.”

“Alright, alright, kids, settle down, we have guests today. You gotta be on your best behavior.”

“Dream literally shut up”.

He wheezed at George answer.

“Come on, Gogy.”

“No.”

“Geoooooorge,” he whined, extending the name. “Come on. Just tell me you love me!”

“Fuck off, Dream.” His friend spat, no real venom nor anger behind the words, instead the insult was filled with honest affection.

“Get a room, nerds.” Techno interrupted their bickering.

“Anyways,” Nikki intercepted the conversation next. “Thank you guys. For, you know. Helping me escape, and everything.”

He shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Just be more careful next time. Schlatt is getting bolder and I doubt he’s letting us off so easily next time.”

The female smiled. “Still. Thank you, Dream.”

“Food’s ready! Sapnap, come help me!”

“But Bad!!”

“No buts! Come help me! Come on!”

The younger male pouted, but stood up and walked towards the kitchen nevertheless. Without waiting, Dream and George followed, but went to fix the table instead of going over to the kitchen.
Soon the empty dining table flourished with decorations and utensils for every single one of the presents. Nikki helped Ant to the table, and despite the initial hesitance, even Technoblade stayed, although silent and visibly uncomfortable by the amount of people. When Sapnap and Bad started serving the food, the entire room was filled with an amazing smell, courtesy of the incredible good cook Bad was.

Chapter Text

He didn’t really remember the period when Ranboo and him were stuck in a small cell, after they left themselves be captured so they could find and save Karl from the eggpire. He knows that it wasn’t pretty, and he knows that Ranboo was heavily injured during the escape, but besides that, only some memories remain.

Like how uncomfortable it was. They had to sleep on the floor that was full of red vines and leaves. The space they had was pretty reduced; so much that Ranboo barely fitted on the floor if he laid in the ground straight, and just as wide from the bars to the back of the cell.

They also had food, but it consisted mostly of one cup of water for each and some pork chops for both to share.

Karl was nowhere to be seen. They heard him scream, a couple of times, but were never allowed to see him, let alone talk to him.

Dream also remembers singing to fall asleep. It helped the ender hybrid just as much as it helped Dream, so after a long day of doing mostly nothing, they rested while hearing soft humming and rough tuned up lyrics from better days, and forgotten places.
Sometimes instead Dream was in a nostalgic mood and told some stories from before the Smp. From brave Alyssa, and Punz and Sapnap. From Callahan and George and Ponk, and Sam and Purpled. Of everyone and their interactions and friendships before the server separated them all.
In return, Ranboo told him stories of the Smp during Dream’s imprisonment. Of Snowchester, and Michael. The big hotel that Tommy commissioned Sam to create, and how foolish was adopted by Puffy, and the secret syndicate that Techno and Phil started, and so much more.

Then, the lost memories.
The parts when a voice filled his mind in warnings, and he turned, and he looked at a face that terrified him. A face that felt… familiar.

A face that he couldn’t remember.

He was dragged as Ranboo screamed his name. He fought and kicked and scratched and still found himself in an unknown and terrifying place.

And he doesn’t remember the rest, but every time he went back to the cell after whatever had happened in that place, it was unconscious, opening his eyes to find a worried Ranboo crying for him. His body throbbing and several minor but painful injuries covering his body in a way far more horrifying than those caused by Quackity in Pandora’s Vault.

And he doesn’t remember the rest.

Not his meetings with the egg, nor the times they left him alone in a room with different creatures in a survival game for the egg’s amusement. Not even the moment that they found Karl and escaped the place, or how they actually escaped from the egg.

He doesn’t remember any of that, not even as Karl lists the horrible things that they made him do, like he was a circus animal, or a beast for entertainment (and in a way, he knew he was).
But he does know, deep inside him, that whoever dragged him to that torture chamber, and whoever did an amazing job at torturing him in ways neither the King’s men nor Quackity could ever imagine…
They shouldn’t have been alive.

And the name that he recognizes (even when he doesn’t really remember) in one of the memorial stones near the bombed base, is enough proof of that.

Because Technoblade told him so.

They did the tombs for whoever rests they found.
And how could a dead person do something like… that?

___________________________________________________________________

“A festival?” He choked up.

Tubbo, to his side, felt as excited as he was, but neither showed that to the Ram hybrid in front of them. The announcement was already out. Dream was probably one of the last to hear of any of this, and that made him really anxious. He had been a whole day too late to the news. Heck, Wilbur had been the one to tell him.

How the fuck hadn’t he noticed?

“Yes, a festival. Tubbo is to organize it. I want it to be perfect, big. You’ll be his support. Get any material the kid wants to decorate, and help him. You have an entire week, so there’s time.”

(He hadn’t attended the announcement. He hadn’t attended because he stayed at the community house sleeping for first time in days, and now he was behind in preparations. Everything was going so quick. Everyone was already ahead. He was supposed to be prepared, supposed to be ready. He knew everything that was supposed to happen, he had already gone through this all, but he couldn’t keep up and everything was a mess.

Why couldn’t he keep up? Why was he so behind on everything? He once was the one behind the scenes, the one controlling most things into place, preparing even if not perfectly the things to get rid of the egg. He heard and he planned and he knew, but not anymore.

Everything had changed so drastically so he couldn’t have the upper hand anymore, so much that it humiliated and mocked him with the lack of opportunity he had to save everyone this time around).

“Fundy is already cleaning and creating the new podium, and Tubbo already has… his guidelines for the speech that he is to give. Those are your orders.”

He nodded, but said nothing otherwise.
Schlatt, noticing, waved him away, shooing them both.

“Go, get the fuck out of here. Go fucking do your jobs or something.”

Dream turned, barely waiting for Tubbo to follow, (the only indication was his speed, that was clearly reduced to match that of the minor). Quackity wasn’t in the house, and so they left.

“Hey, Big man…” Tubbo initiated the conversation in a small voice.

“Hey Tubs. How are you holding up?”

“Fine, I guess. Everything is a little… well… not good.”

He patted the kid’s head, smiling softly at him, even if the expression stayed behind the mask.

“I get it. Things are going to be okey, don’t worry.”

The minor groaned. “I know, I know, I know. It’s just…” The noise that Tubbo made couldn’t be described as anything, just spitting up letters scrambled into inexistent words. “This is so… stupid! Everything is so horrible and I just… I want L’manburg back…” The last phrase no more than a whisper.

Dream stayed silent as the other continued rambling.

“And it’s not just here. In Pogtopia things are tense too. I went to warn Wilbur and Tommy yesterday, but they already knew. Tommy was breaking things around and Wilbur just, stood there, silent. And then– then Schlatt and Quackity almost found Pogtopia through the tunnels and-!” The kid covered his face with his hands, a muffled scream coming from there. “Then this… this bastard! wants me to plan the whole festival in a week!”

And the TNT, too. Dream had spent a week reuniting materials for the TNT that Schlatt had requested. Everything was already created, and Schlatt just took it away, not bothering to explain where the bombs would be planted.
Was Schlatt planning to bomb the place during the festival, like Wilbur did originally?

(Schlatt. Not Wilbur. Wilbur was far more composed, far more relaxed, like an actual general planning for a war instead of a mad man looking for destruction. Like the Wilbur he stood against during the first war and not the Wilbur he stood beside during the uprising.

Schlatt, however, looked each day more deranged, stressed, angry.

He wondered if this is what his support did. Was this his fault? Was he dragging people into madness? To their breaking point?).

“At least Wilbur and Tommy are doing fine. I mean– Tommy is still very angry, but they’re doing fine. It’s better than nothing, I guess.”

That it was. At least both were still healthy. And with Nikki and Techno, both far more collected than in the original timeline… Things were good for them.

“And then there’s Fundy. I don’t know what side is he on! A few days ago we were helping Sam with a possession problem, but yesterday he was with Schlatt and Quackity near Pogtopia and… oh god, do you think he is supporting them?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I don’t think he is doing it to be malicious. He probably is just trying to protect the nation.”

“But… Isn’t Wilbur and Tommy, and Nikki! far more important than just… this place? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love L’manburg! But I care more about my friends! I don’t think all of this matters if they’re not here with me…”

“Of course. But think about it. Fundy has grown in L’manburg; he didn’t really meet a lot of things before it. That’s probably why he is looking to protect it. I don’t think he really cares about Schlatt.”

Mostly a guess. He hadn’t spent as much time with the fox hybrid as he had before the elections, but with both on opposite sides and focusing on their own missions, it was to be expected.

“I just… I don’t know. I want L’manburg back. I miss my friends, and peace.”

“I promised you I’d try everything to maintain that peace, Tubbo. And I will keep trying. But for that, we need to protect everyone from Schlatt.”

“Even… Quackity?”

He hesitated.

(Memories of orders. Of weapons. Days filled with pain and begging and screaming. Of deserved punishments over everything he had said, and done. No mercy for the monster.

And Quackity had been the one responsible for all that).

“Even Quackity. I’m sure that… I’m sure that maybe if we could reach out to him… I mean, he is also hurting, in a way. And everyone makes mistakes.”

“Does Schlatt deserves an opportunity, too?” Tubbo asked in a small voice, letting the wind drag his words away, almost not letting Dream hear them.

“I… I don’t know.”

It’s the truth.
Schlatt was an actual tyrant, a person who caused too much damage over ambitions that surpassed him. He had abused many people, and had hurt everyone.
But so had Dream. His desperation to get power to defeat the egg or to pass the torch onto Tommy had rivaled and gone beyond Schlatt. He hadn’t tortured anyone, but similar to Schlatt, he had mentally abused Tommy in the attempt to prepare him, like the ram hybrid had done to Quackity. And he wants to say that he didn’t go beyond that, but he had fought the two minors and injured them and he had no excuse for that.

If Schlatt didn’t deserve a second chance.

Did Dream?

“I honestly want to say he does. For several reasons. But to a degree, I don’t think he does.”

“Why?”

“Well. Like I said. Everyone makes mistakes. I don’t like Schlatt, and I sure don’t know his reasoning to do all of this. Was it spite against Wilbur? Does he have a tragic backstory tm? Is it just… fun? And I think the most important thing is… would he change? Like… I don’t think Quackity is the correct person to support Schlatt into a healthier version of himself. If anything, I think they should totally go opposite ways. But a person who doesn’t know the way, the right path, is meant to get lost. I… maybe if he had someone to transform him into a better person? Maybe if he could get actual help?”

He stopped for a second, regaining his breath after a long rambling, but Tubbo said nothing, so he continued;

“What I mean is… I guess I think he should get another chance. But someone who is qualified for it should help him out. I don’t think he would change on his own. Or maybe he’ll try, but won’t know how.”

Was he even talking about Schlatt, at this point?

“I… I don’t think I could forgive Schlatt. For all he is doing.”

“You don’t have to.”

The minor turned his head toward Dream, and both shared a look, even with the mask interrupting them, both finally stopping their walk and standing completely still on top of the wood path.

“He harmed you. He hurt your friends, your family, and he destroyed your home. He can get a second chance. He can redeem himself. He can transform onto the nicest person anyone could ever be. But the damage to you is already done, and you don’t have to ever forgive him if you don’t want to, Tubbo. It’s not your responsibility.”

Tubbo stared at him for a few seconds, completely astonished and confused. Then, his eyes drifted to the ground, as he processed the information that Dream had given him.

(For a few seconds, Dream couldn’t see the small Tubbo who was disguised in a slightly oversized suit. Instead, a young man who was covered with an enormous parka covered in different patches and with messy hair covering his eyes was the one in front of him.

‘You don’t have to forgive me’, was what he was trying to say, and the message went across just fine.

Even with the hair over his eyes, Dream could feel the icy glare directed at him. The dead kid gave a couple of steps towards him, and once he was mere centimeters in front of him, he muttered: “Don’t waste this opportunity. This is your last one, Dream.”)

Once the ghostly figured disappeared, and everything was back to normal, (and he was left with uncertainty, that spoke softly of doubt and hate and something more), Tubbo face was closer to his, with a small smile, and his torso was once again surrounded by the younger one’s arms.

“Thank you, Dream.”

With that, the kid separated himself from the admin, leaving him with an itching under his skin (and hope, too), before he dashed in direction to Pogtopia.

However, the kid came to a sudden halt, looking back at Dream once more.

“Oh! Is it fine if I send you later the materials we need for the festival? We can get them tomorrow together if you want to!”

“Sure! No worries!”

“Thanks, Big man!”

“Be careful, Tubbo!”

And so the minor went running once again.

_______________________________________________________________

He bit his finger. The Puffy from the original timeline had warned him about doing that, telling him that even when he was anxious, biting himself wasn’t reasonable.
She had also left him to rot in the prison, never visiting, and replacing him with another person just a few days after he got sentenced for life in a cell that wasn’t made to contain people for more than a day or two, so he never really listened to her little advices.

(Those were motherly advices. Motherly warnings. Motherly actions.

And Puffy had made very clear that she wasn’t his mother).

So he, once again, bit his finger.

The skin to the side was already rough, and the peels around his nails were lifted, some bloody and some just leaving his skin exposed, slightly burning under the pressure that he applied with his teeth.

Now, normally he would fidget with his fingers, or tap things around to make small melodies out of the echo that the tapping produced, like drums. But today he was really anxious.
Karl hadn’t visited in a while, and while Dream understood that the time traveler had things more important to do (like not die, and stuff), a little word of advice from someone who knew his position would’ve done wonders for his mental health.

But, alas, things couldn’t always be the way he wanted, and so he had to make this decision on his own.

He was going to tell George and Sapnap about the egg. About everything.

Karl told him, before he had jumped in time, that it didn’t do any harm if he told anyone about it, but that he had to be wise if he ever considered doing something like this, because if the person he told wasn’t trustworthy, things could go wrong.

Now, originally, he had hoped to stay away from everyone and just focus on fixing the egg situation, and then leave.

He couldn’t do any harm to the people he loved if he was far away, and similarly, no one could hurt him again if he just… disappeared.

(I mean, he was going away whether he wanted or not, so might as well make it quick).

But the more time he spent with the people from his server, the more he wanted to stay, and to learn, and to fix himself. He wanted to give another try at having a family.

(He wanted to try, before he didn’t have that choice anymore).

Of course, the lingering doubt that everyone had left him behind in the past timeline was the only thing stopping him from spilling the beans. (That and the fact that most would call him crazy, and that even if things were similar, everything was variating far too much to actually predict something, so you know…).
But as time passed by, he learnt what his mistake had been the first time: he had distanced himself from the rest.

He had distanced himself from the citizens of Pogtopia during the first war, and then, from his friends, and the residents of his faction, and everyone else, slowly but surely, until he was completely alone.

(It scared him, the fact that his first idea had been to go down the same path; he had unconsciously tried to commit the same mistakes he already had).

But this time, he had stayed. He had tried, he had pushed, he had grown. In the past, Dream had always condemned and slightly resented the fact that his two friends had abandoned him at the first lie he had said about them, but the more thought he put into it, the more fault he had.
After all, why wouldn’t they? How could they trust his words when he had lied, and hidden things from them, and attacked them? When he chose the contrary faction in a whim and switched sides to his convenience without caring for anyone’s opinions?

How could they trust him when he hadn’t gotten near the community house unless he wanted to retrieve materials or tools? When every time they saw each other was on the battlefield?

But this time around, he stayed. And the change was clear.

The new unity that linked the main members of the Dream Team was stronger than ever, fortified by the trust each one had on the two others thanks to the activities and time they spent together, supporting and helping each other no matter the situation.

In a way, it felt like the first war against L’manburg, before the server divided into a ton of different factions and nations. Before everyone was by themselves and alliances lasted days at most. When they were actually a Team.

That’s why he was right here, at this moment.

“So…?”

“Dream stop biting your fingers.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, forcing his hands down, harshly rubbing them. “I just… Guys, I promised you I would talk to you about what was– is– happening with me and… I trust you. I want to do this. But… I don’t know where to start.”

“Well, clearly by the beginning, dude!”

“It’s… It’s really not that easy. There’s just, a lot to unpack. And I know you won’t believe me at the start because it’s just… nuts! hell, I wouldn’t believe myself either if I hadn’t gone through all that shit.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“I know! That’s the problem. I don’t think I can make sense. At all. Everything is… super complex.”

“Well. Divide it in parts?”

He sighed.
“I’ll try. But I need you to promise me something, too. I want you to trust me.”

The two other members of the team, (his friends), shared a look before turning back to him and nodding.

“Of course, Dream.”

Dream tried not to choke on the small amount of air that was entering his longs, and he breathed deep before continuing:

“Okey. Okey.”

‘They’re not going to believe you. You are alone’.

Ignoring those thoughts, he started to talk:

“Before you guys came, this server already existed. I had created it a long time ago, but after several problems, I closed it and left it alone.”

“Problems?”

He nodded.
“There was… something. I’m willing to say it’s just a bug, but the facts are that it is quite dangerous. As far as I know, it’s connected to the nether, and it’s like… a plant. But I used to call it, ‘the Egg’”.

Well. That’s what the plant called itself, anyways.
Sapnap snorted.

“The egg? Dream that’s a stupid name.”

“Your face is stupid.”

“Hey!”

“Sapnap, shut up, let him talk.” George berated the raven haired one, almost snapping at him, but in a softer way, no real anger behind his words.

The younger man pouted, crossing his arms in disgust, but said nothing more. So Dream continued.

“This ‘Egg’ is dangerous. It expands on whatever land it reaches. It transported itself from the nether into the overworld using vines. I… I don’t know how it does it, I think it uses spores, but it can and will control people. I… I had to do something to seal it. It is already sealed. Right now it has no way of escaping.”

“Then… you’re afraid it’s gonna escape?”

He frowned, and clearing his throat, spoke: “you could say that.”

“Can’t you… re-seal it? if it ever gets out?”

“It’s… not that easy. The sealing process it’s dangerous for anyone… involved.”

“Involved how?”

“Both people who are being controlled and the sealer.”

A few seconds of silence as the information set in, and then George asked “How does the control work?”

Smart. Probably looking for a way to counter it.

“It enters your brain; like I said, I’m guessing using spores or something–”

“Ew” Sapnap contributed magnificently.

“–And then asks for permission. It cannot– It cannot affect you if you refuse. And I think that if you’re neutral to it, you become immune. But it stays in your brain, and uses everything it can to make you accept it. From fake promises of power, or abilities or, anything really, to bully you and manipulate you. I’m not sure how many time you have to be in contact with the spores for it to affect you. I went against it thousands of times and it took really long before I was affected in any way. But I also met people who were affected after minutes of being in contact with it.”

“And… then? What? What happens when you accept?”

“… I… I don’t know. From what I’ve seen, it’s kinda like… a hive mind. Everyone infected at the time knows everything the others are going through. Everyone hears the egg. Everyone follows the egg. It’s really weird, almost unheard of someone who disobeys. At that point the will of the person is… mostly gone.”

“Is… Is there a cure?”

He bit his lip, painfully aware that the answer wouldn’t be liked.

“No. Unless the egg is resealed, there’s no cure. You can hold it back, make the infection recede up to the point where you’re cut off from the hive mind and regain independence, but not completely heal it. People might appear normal but there will be a lingering connection to the egg as long as they live.”

“And the resealing is dangerous.”

“It… It is. It hurts the people under its control. But worse than that…”

Dream touches his chest softly. It’s covered by layers of cloth, and it has never been exposed, but the marks that the last sealing left are still there.

“It eats the vessel inside, and the sealer too. It’s unlikely that the sealer survives, and whatever the egg had been sealed in… Well, theoretically it’s fine. It shouldn’t destroy the object. It will consume its force or energy, but unless it breaks, the seal should be fine.”

“Dream…”

He gulped.
Did they…?

“Did you see someone die sealing it?” George asked.

Oh.
That’s good.

“Yeah. I did.”

It’s not a lie.
He had stood in front of a lake for hours trying to clean the crimson in his hands, looking at his own dead, numb eyes.
He had seen himself die that day.

“The egg… it broke free.”

Alarm in the eyes of his friends.

“But… you said—“

“I messed up everything. I… Originally I didn’t let Wilbur build L’manburg, and we had a war. The whole server was divided and– The seal. It broke. I thought I could control it alone but I was scared and– God. Oh… I… I pushed Tommy. I tried to make him the hero. I hurt him and I hurt you guys and… And everyone died.”

“Dream?”

“Dude, what are you talking about?”

He looked at his hand when something warm fell in it, and he realized we was crying. He hiccupped, and continued.

“We already went through all this once. But the first time I was the villain. I destroyed L’manburg thrice, and killed Tommy thrice too, and almost murdered him and Tubbo after manipulating them. And I… I abandoned you two. I took George’s crown and returned it to Eret and–”

Dream couldn’t breath.

“Everyone was there. I’m a monster and everyone surrounded me to take me down because I had done so much damage. I destroyed everything. I helped Schlatt. Really helped him, because of a stupid book, and–”

Something was on top of him, surrounding him, but his sight was blurry with tears and his ears were ringing (and the intrusive thoughts were whispering in his ears) and it hurt. His chest hurt so much. He started hiccupping hard, fighting to breath.

“Wilbur fucking died. And then I tried to kill his fucking ghost. And I kept pushing everyone away and I kept going down a path no one could follow and I was alone. But I thought it was fine because you guys were safe.”

He thought.

He tried.

He gave his all.

He lost all the humanity he had left to protect them and failed.

“But you weren’t. The egg was free and George was dead, and Sapnap was a fucking follower, and I failed to protect everyone. They died. They died and it’s all my fucking fault!”

Heaving, he screamed. Dream screamed at the top of his lungs, clinging onto whoever was there with him, fingers bent into an unyielding grip that rivaled the control that the egg had on its followers.

(Maybe it was Ranboo, finally awake, and Karl, both arms attached to his body and tired but alive).

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know better. I was egoist and I wanted power but I only wanted it to protect everyone! And then I pushed Tommy because I thought he could fix what I ruined but I only ruined him! I didn’t know how to do things right! No one ever explained me how to save every person and I fucked everything up! And now I’m back in time but I’m still messing everything up!”

Someone was patting his head. Another hand was rubbing circles on his back.

“I’m sorry.”

“We’re here, dude.”

“We’re here, Dream.”

“Yeah. And neither of us is leaving. Maybe you fucked up, but you’re here now. And we all are going to make things better. Together.”

And, for the first time in years, he believed those words.

(He looks up, and sees George, overgrown mushrooms covering him. Sapnap is there too, looking clearly older. Both are smiling at him, smiling.

“You apologized after all, you idiot.”

“You sure took your goddamn time.”

He snorted a small laugh, clinging even harder onto the ghostly forms of his old friends.

“I knew you would be back, Dream. We missed you, dude.”

“Now we just have to keep going and not mess everything up again.”)

“Yeah…”

“Together.”

“By the way what the hell do you mean with ‘back in time’? Are you a time traveler?”

“Sapnap, shut up, not the moment.”

“But–”

“Shut up!”

Chapter Text

Once, he dreamt of the end. A really different one, from the dimensions he had seen in other servers and worlds.

It looked like a kingdom, except completely ruined, most things falling apart even if the foundations of the place were built with obsidian. House-like constructions are almost nothing more than debris, and the end stone in the ground is quite different from anything he has ever seen before, red tendrils coming from the inside of the block, not fully covering it but still visibly invading it.

On the entrance of the obsidian castle is…

Well, not him, not really. The person– creature? thing? entity?– it looks similar to him. It is slightly taller, barely towering over his own form, but that’s probably because whatever that is, it’s floating. Just a few centimeters over the ground, but it is.

It wears a green silk robe covered on another piece of a different, more transparent, cloth, and it hides its arms. Similar to himself, it has a mask covering most of its face, but it doesn’t have the smiley face that he does, instead marked with cracks and holes that are divided and kind of look similar to an X and a broken D, or an O. It also wears tons of jewelry, from the top of its head with a gold chain headband, to the tip of its toes, multilayered gold anklets decorating the barefoot feet of the creature.

Dream didn’t know how he knew, (maybe the black skin that the thing has, or maybe the energy that it displays), but he is aware that this thing is made of void. Or at least, part of it is.

The thing is also surrounded by light, and wings and halos, and despite the fact that it could easily dispose of Dream, the admin feels no fear. Actually, he is so disinterested on the power display that his dream self huffs, rolling his eyes at the thing’s flex.

“I see you’re still a child, Dream. How long has it been? I thought It’d be longer.”

“Barely more than half the millennia,” he mumbles to himself; there’s no wind to drag the words away, and the end is so big that one would think that any word spoken would’ve been lost in space. Nevertheless, the thing listens to his answer, and nods. “I defeated the egg.”

“I know. I wouldn’t be here, otherwise. You gained some part of your powers back. But the egg is still alive, isn’t it?”

Dream doesn’t say a word, but the answer must be clear in his expression, (mask nowhere to be found even if he doesn’t remember taking it away), because the thing’s shoulders lump in defeat, and a loud sigh breaks the newly born silence.

“That’s a shame. I thought you could do it, but it seems I was mistaken.”

He scoffs, frowning, barely contained anger in his next words. “What is it to you? You left. You left me behind with no instructions, and alone to defeat a god, when I’m merely a mortal!” And he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, be the anger is too real for it to be just passing words.

The thing shakes its head in clear disappointment.
“A mortal, you say.” The thing sighs, slowly floating its way to Dream, walking– well, still floating actually– around Dream. The admin tries to keep his eyes on the thing, but it’s difficult. For some reason, it feels like he’s frozen into place. “I made you far more than merely a mortal, Dream. You’re supposed to be better than that.”

“Well, apparently I’m not! So you failed.”

“I never fail. You will defeat the egg in due time. But your current performance is… disappointing.”

“Well. You failed defeating the egg so–”

Pinned to the ground, held down by black chains that burn the limbs and places that they surround, almost launching him against the end stone. He still feels no fear, but there’s some degree of anxiousness clinging onto his chest.

“You’d be wise to watch your mouth, godling.”

“Or what?”

The question is genuine, despite the edge that it has, and the clear challenge that Dream imposes on the higher being in front of him.

“You can’t replace me. Not at this point, and with so little energy. No with the experience I already have against the egg. You can’t dispose of me.”

The thing muses, not interested on the things Dream has to say.

“Eventually, you’ll come back to me, child. It’s depending on your actions and wisdom if you shall be by my side or under me when the time comes. I could be merciful, if you learn to be obedient.”

“Shouldn’t have given me free will.”

The chains disappear, and the lack of the forceful restrain sends him back stumbling even when he is on his knees. The higher being sighs.

“It had to be done. One cannot do something as important as defeating the egg if it’s not on own will. Is just not possible.”

The thing turns his back on Dream, facing the ruins of its home with a nostalgic feeling that Dream feels within himself.

“It’s, of course, a responsibility that rests on your shoulders. But if you do not want to fulfill your purpose, you won’t be able to. You’ll only fail. And it is very unlikely that you will have a second chance if you do so.”

Dream crackles a raspy and defeated laugh.

“Is it really a choice?”

“It is, godling. You can choose not to do it. You can also run away from it. You could give your responsibility to someone else.”

He doesn’t notice the moment his breathing comes to a stop, but it has to be between the moment that he looks at his hands to watch them covered in liquid crimson, or the moment when the higher being appears in front of him, its face so close to Dream’s that he can feel the smooth texture of the other’s mask with the tip of his nose.
A single green eye stares back at him, the piercing glare making the admin feel like he might actually die now.
There’s something slowly lifting his chin, forcing Dream to look back at the thing, even if he was just trying to avoid that. It might be a hand, but there’s no way to tell.

“However, the only option that will defeat the egg is doing it yourself”.

The thing steps away. Whatever was holding Dream by the chin is already gone, nowhere to be seen, and it’s only the two of them in the emptiness of a destroyed kingdom.

“Like I said. It’s your choice. Whether you’ll do what you must and protect the overworld, or let it burn away like this place has. I cannot force you to do neither. But once you come to me, whatever you have chosen will similarly choose your eternity with us.”

Us.

Such a strange word to use in the emptiness of the end.
Or it would be if Dream couldn’t feel the thousands of eyes staring at him from behind as he’s frozen in place.

“Be wise, Dream. No one will do that for you.”

___________________________________________________________

“So you can… go back in time and stuff?”

He shakes his head, denying it.

“Not me. Someone else. If I’m honest, I don’t really know how it works, but they couldn’t come, so I did.”

George sighs, frustrated over the whole situation as he lays against the back of the chair he’s in.

“So the… egg thing. It won. It controlled almost everyone, killed the rest, and now you’ve come back in time to fix everything.”

“Yeah, that’s about it.”

Sapnap stays silent, analyzing the whole conversation they just had. Dream can see the gears running in the younger one’s head.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but that’s what happened.”

“If I’m being honest, it is hard to believe, but…”

George continues Sapnap’s sentence. “But it makes sense.”

Dream looks at the smaller man, who rubs his chin while he thinks on everything that has happened up to this point.

“I mean, the sudden change of heart you had with Wilbur during negotiations, and the reactions you’ve had to a lot of people, and how you seem to know things that haven’t happened yet… It doesn’t make sense but it does. The whole ‘higher beings’ thing was a lie.”

He hesitates.
The egg story, everything that happened after the prison. They know. What they don’t know is what happened to him. Why he was absent. They’re going so ask, eventually.

“And what happened to you? I mean, you said this all like you weren’t there.”

And there’s the question.
He stops breathing for a second, and only continues when Sapnap’s touch snaps him back into reality, both of his hands held by the blaze hybrid.

“I wasn’t.” He admits, closing his eyes. “I…”

Pain coming from his lips indicate him that he’s biting down hard, and that’s reiterated by George, who softly slaps his arm in an attempt to bring him back to the real world. He stops.

“I wasn’t a good person. I… I was desperate, and power got to me. So after I brought destruction and chaos, I was… sent away.”

It takes a few seconds before Sapnap dares to break the silence.
“Where?”

Similarly, Dream waits before answering, ignoring his trembling hands.

“Prison.”

Sapnap frowns. “What, like, a real prison?”

“Yeah. I commissioned it from… Sam. It wasn’t– I planned it different than what it ended up being. But the point is that I was there for… a long time. Meanwhile, the rest of the server lived their lives until the egg started to win control.”

It feels like years, but in reality a minute or two go by before George asks another thing.

“What did you do?”

A small whine comes from him, and to be honest he doesn’t know if he’s more ashamed of what he did, or the pitiful noise he just made.

“I… Well. I bombed Manberg a few times. And manipulated almost everyone in different ways. I… I focused on Tommy. I forced Tubbo to exile him after he attacked George and… well. I also took Tommy’s lives. Almost killed him and Tubbo for real. And I… kinda killed Wilbur and. Many things.”

George huffs. “That’s it?”

Dream blinks.

“I mean; the manipulation was really shitty.”

“Well, no shit. But like. Wilbur started a drug business against your rules. And it’s not like Tommy is a saint. I’m pretty sure he broke almost all the server rules the first week he was here.”

“He’s just… a kid.”

George huffed, annoyed at his response. “He is not. He’s a minor. Those are two different things. He is big enough to understand the difference between good and wrong.”

“Yeah. And honestly, haven’t we done like, a lot of shit like that? Daily? Including trying to murder people? I mean, not manipulating teens, and that does kind of sucks, man, but come on. George threatened Wilbur after the negotiations with an axe, and last week I started a fire in Manberg’s forest.”

“You two did wh– That fire was you?!”

“…no?”

“Sapnap!”

George clears his throat, dragging the attention of both of his friends back to him.

“What I’m trying to say is… why weren’t we there stopping them from getting you into prison? I mean, you’re an asshole, but we’re your friends!”

“You… well...” He tries not to sound suspicious, but the anxiety that eats at him makes him gulp loudly under the worried stare of his friends. “Sapnap was there. Just… not on my side.”

Silence. It takes just a few seconds before the realization of what Dream said settles down, and Sapnap looks horrified. Of course. Dream sighs, separating himself slightly from the two other, crossing his arms and turning his back on them.

“I distanced myself from you. We all– It was every man for themselves. Sometimes we were together against Wilbur. Sometimes we were against each other. We betrayed Bad, and then you two joined him but I helped Pogtopia, but afterwards I helped Manberg–… I wasn’t a very good friend.”

“So we just… left?” Sapnap asks, incredulous.

“Well, I gave George the crown. I dethroned Eret, but… Tommy attacked a little cottage George had built during the Pogtopia vs Manberg war, and I got… I got scared. I knew we were losing touch and I thought that– That I wouldn’t be able to help George, and Sapnap was busy with Karl and– Of course I trusted Callahan but Tommy started to get really dangerous so…”

“So you gave Eret the crown back.”

He doesn’t turn back to confront George. Nodding, Dream stares at a window. The sky is almost black. There’s no moon, and everything seems so dark. The lake surrounding the community house looks like the void, (and he isn’t supposed to know what that looks like but he does, anyways).

“That’s the reason you didn’t give me the crown this time?”

“No. I really wanted to give Eret the crown. They’re not a bad monarch, and I wanted to stablish that bond with L’manburg. I also think that you’re far better with us by your side than commanding the place. And you sleep most of the time, anyways.”

The younger one laughs at the same time the older one scoffs, half offended.

“I mean, you’re not wrong.”

“Shut up, Sapnap.”

Finally, George looks back. Neither seems angry.
Well, he looks annoyed, but that’s far away from angry.

“Honestly, I rather be with you guys that in some dumb palace.”

Confused, Dream tilts his head.

“But… you were so excited. When i told you about it the first time. Are you… sure?”

The clout googles cover anything that the smaller man does with his eyes, but Dream can still feel how he rolls his eyes at his question.

“If I’m being honest, and hearing the fact that you were a dumbass and ran away from us, I probably was just thinking that you finally cared about us again. Honestly Dream, you’re such an ass.”

Dream scratches his neck, somewhat ashamed.

“Well. That’s that. You fucked up by being an asshole. And you had a lot of luck finding a time traveler.”

He laughs. “I guess I always did have a lot of luck finding stuff.”

“Yeah. You do.” George grumbles. “It’s such a pain during manhunts. Honestly your luck should be against the rules.”

“Sucks to suck, I guess.”

The brown haired man hit him softly on the arm, frowning at his answer. Dream and Sapnap both laugh at his reaction, and it doesn’t take long before the annoyment in George’s face turns into a small smile.

“I don’t think I’ll ever have the chance to apologize to them. But for what’s worth, I’m sorry, guys.”

Sapnap slaps his back, almost launching Dream against the floor, the admin barely catching himself before falling to the ground. He looks back, glaring at the blaze hybrid who just smirks at him.

“As long as you don’t do that again, we’re good.”

George looks at him, his eyes piercing through Dream’s very soul.

“Actually, no. Fuck you. You’re not getting rid of us this time. Try to avoid us again and I will tie you to the bed, and force you to sleep. It’s probably what you need, knowing you”

Sapnap smiled, opening his mouth, but having no chance to say a word before getting assaulted by George’s glare, the younger lifting his arms in surrender before the battle even started. Then, the older one turned back to Dream.

“And that’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”

“Yeah, dude, you’re not getting rid of us that easy this time around.”

He felt himself smile. (And his eyes felt warm, and his hands trembled, and his chest screamed with the soft feeling that filled him).

“I wouldn’t like it any other way. Thank you, guys.”

With that, Sapnap straightens his back, fully displaying his actual height.

“So we have to stop the egg and save the server, right?” Dream nods at the hybrid’s question, and Sapnap continued. “Well? What do we have to do?”

“Okey. I’ll tell you some of what I know…”

________________________________________________________

“Hey! Big D!”

“Tommy.” Wilbur chastised the younger one, but focused back on the task he had.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. How you doing, green bastard? How’s L’manburg?”

Dream winces as his shoulder loudly crack the moment he starts stretching, and Tommy does too. (Wilbur lifts his head, some worry in his expression as he glances at Dream, but the man just shakes his head and quickly turns back to whatever he’s doing).

“Everything’s okey. Tubbo and I are preparing everything for the festival.”

“Shit– the festival,” The kid turns to Wilbur. “Hey. Wilbur. We’re going, right?”

“Yeah,” Wilbur answers, not looking at them. “We have to. Nikki isn’t going though. She said she’s more comfortable staying here, and plus, we might make some stasis chambers in case anything happens.”

Tommy once again directs his attention to Dream.
“Technoblade said he would be on the public.”

Dream chuckled. “That’s not very reassuring.”

“Yeah, Wil told him that, but the bastard shrugged him off.”

“Well, you know Techno.”

Finally, Wilbur closed the book he had on the hastily made desk, leaving it there, and standing up, walking towards the other two.

“That we do. Hopefully he won’t do something reckless like killing everybody in the place.”

“He probably will.”

Sighing, the older one nods in agreement. “He probably will.”

Opening a chest, Dream started filling it with different materials he had brought, both from his own stash and Eret’s, who sent things with Dream from time to time to show their support.

“And? How’s the TNT?”

“I don’t know. I finished reuniting the materials some time ago, and Schlatt demanded I gave it all to him, so I did, and I don’t know what he did with it. Tubbo says that Fundy and Quackity disappeared a full day, so that might have something to do with it.”

The other man clicked his tongue.

“Fundy… dammit. What is he planning?”

Neither Tommy or him have an answer, so they don’t respond to Wilbur’s doubts. The minor instead turns to the chest, looking at all the things that Dream put in the container.

“Oh shit. Netherite, pog!”

A small smile settled in the admin.

And yet part of him uncomfortably remembered the exile days. The excitement that shone in Tommy’s eyes opposite to the empty gray eyes the teen wore for weeks before escaping his clutches.

He never meant to do so much harm.

Dream had wanted to teach a lesson. How actions can harm other people. How one should be mindful of the things they do, and that claiming friendship after doing something so hurtful wasn’t enough to clean yourself of guilt. He never meant to kill the kid’s spirit in a way that would mark them both forever.

It felt similar in a way to what Wilbur did.

The original Tommy always claimed that from the start, it had been Tubbo and Tommy against Dream, but that had been a lie. From the beginning, it had been Dream against Wilbur.

Hell, even after Wilbur was dead, their little confrontation continued through Wilbur manipulation of the two minors, both taking a position that they weren’t meant to assume at such age.

It didn’t matter if they joined forces, if Wilbur betrayed his kin before dying; the fact that Dream kept fighting against the musician’s legacy for a long time couldn’t be erased.

But in the end, it still was Dream’s fault.

And that was confirmed by this whole timeline.

(Was it? In the end, Tubbo and Tommy were still dragged into all of this. Both are still child soldiers in a war that wasn’t meant for them. Wilbur still became a general, Dream still became a spy, Techno still became The Blade, Manberg still formed. Everything that should’ve been avoided still came to be, even if in slightly different circumstances.

That worried Dream.

If something like this couldn’t be avoided. If something as dumb as this small war pushed through his preparations and his attempts to at least hold it back…

What did that mean for the egg? The creature that was probably as prepared as him, if not more?)

“–And Nikki is coming later from the Badlands. They still won’t support us but considering they already claimed their alliances, I guess it was to be expected.”

“At least they keep giving us cookies. Shit, don’t ever tell them I said this but their cookies are great!”

“And their muffins too,” Dream pitched in, agreeing with Tommy, “But Skeppy tends to eat them all before Bad can send some to the rest.”

Wilbur lets a small laugh escape him, laying his shoulder against a wall.

“Well, if anything else happens, let us know.”

“Yeah! And tell Tubbo to come fucking visit or something! He hasn’t come in days!”

“It’s because of the festival,” The words taste bitter in his mouth, but he still has to explain. “Schlatt is keeping a tight eye on him. He has to be careful.”

“And you? Nikki said that Schlatt is not giving you any more chances.”

Dream looks at the stairs that lead to the outside. Escaping is a choice, he is under no obligation to answer that. Regardless, he thinks that they might feel better if he does answer, so he turns his eyes towards the two brother and does exactly that.

“I’ll be fine. Doubt he can do anything against me anyways. And if things go as planned, Tubbo should be out soon, so he’ll be okay, too.”

Wilbur frowns, reacting first, but is Tommy the one who speaks.

“Wait, you’re planning on taking Tubbo out? Why?”

“I’m wondering the same thing. Isn’t it far more safe to let him in Manberg?”

Dream shakes his head, sighing.

“I’m afraid Schlatt is starting to doubt him. I want to get him out of there before the festival for the same reason. Schlatt has been acting… weird. About Tubbo.”

Techno was going to be there.
There was no favor this time, but would the piglin surrender under the pressure? Would Quackity just do it? Maybe Fundy was the executioner this time.

Whoever it was, Dream wasn’t taking any chances this time around.

“I see…”

“Shit. Do you think he found out about him?”

“It is probable. They found the underground road we made a few weeks ago, and Tubbo did distract them. Or maybe he isn’t as careful as he thinks he is? Anyways, we should probably warn him. We have only a few days.”

“I’ll try to tell him. It is kind of my responsibility.” Dream shrugged.

In response, the musician smiled at him. “Thank you, Dream.”

“No problem.”

With that, Dream started climbing the stairs, somewhat excited to finally be able to go back home. However, a few steps up, he stopped, and leaned against the air, holding himself with great equilibrium and maybe some help from a rock. (And why didn’t they have railings yet, anyways? Someone could fall in this place, jeez).

“You guys coming to the festival, right?”

“Uh. yeah? we told you like ten minutes ago.” Tommy pointed out, a raised eyebrow at him.

Did they?
…Huh. He really couldn’t recall something like that.

“…Well, anyways. Bring shields. I have a few plans in case shit goes wrong but you will need to be ready to protect yourselves or to mobilize quickly.”

“Sure. We were planning to, anyways.”

“Most things are already prepared.”

“Nothing enchanted. You’ll be discovered quickly if something is shining on top of a building.”

“We’re bringing enchanted armor, but only as a failsafe. The first thing in the list are invis potions.”

“Hell yeah! Eret sent a lot of materials for those with Nikki a few days ago!”

“He knows you really well” Dream said, mirroring the minor’s excitement. “Well, good luck. We’ll probably seeing each other the day of the festival.”

“Not if we’re lucky.” Wilbur pointed out, a knowing smile in his lips. “Good luck for you too, Dream. See you soon.”

“Goodbye Big D! Stay alive and come back soon with Tubbo!”

“You’re so clingy, Tommy.”

“What? Fuck you, I’m not clingy!”

“God, every time you say something it ends with Tubbo.”

“Well, he’s my best friend!”

“Exactly. You’re very clingy with your best friend.”

“Fuck you, Wilbur, I’m not!”

“Yes you are. Honestly Tom–”

Snickering, Dream finally left the ravine behind, no longer able to hear the brothers bicker, but still leaving him with a sense of relief.

Chapter Text

Dream was afraid of heights.

Which was kind of interesting, and horrible, considering that most of the time he spent speedrunning was usually up in the sky, towering to evade his friends or mobs, or trying to reach his destination quicker.

And also those times when he had been hiding up in a tower, observing the events of the server transpiring without him.

The worst, though, was probably the Doomsday.

That day when he spent hours up in the obsidian grid, waiting for Techno’s signal before starting to bomb New L’manburg, watching as the ground slowly disappeared, getting farther and farther from him.

It felt similar to watching his friends leaving him behind.

So, so similar.

The pit in his stomach, the lack of air, the ringing in his ears, the feeling that there was nothing he could do, the incredible need to puke whatever little he had eaten during the day before the event happened.

Two reasons on completely different directions, but still ending on the same situation, the same panic.

Sometimes he wishes he had fallen, having nothing to do but to accept his destiny. Maybe the next time he opened his eyes, it would be in a time when his actions were already forgotten, and everything that could threaten to bring back his mistakes was already nothing more than ruins.

Maybe, with the threat of the egg, he wouldn’t have woken ever again.

While on the prison, he wonders what the reaction of the people from the SMP would’ve been if he had given the last step toward the air that day. If the threads of destiny marked his fall as a canon death, and people found an inventory filled with TNT, a bucket, an unused totem, and some of the nightmares he had built during the revival of the server.

Or if he hadn’t begged for mercy from Tommy, who would have totally continued to take his lives, not stopped by anyone. (Not Sam. Not Punz. Not Puffy. Not Sapnap. Not Karl, or Ranboo. No one).

The void taking him into its cold lack of existence, slowly fixing him enough to send him back into a battlefield he was obligated to act as a central piece, no matter what his opinion was on the whole stupid conflict.

He vaguely thinks of Tommy, who once stood in a similar position; too tired to continue but with no other option but to do so.

Dream feels… regret.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to stop. It’s not that he is happy with everything he’s doing, and with everything he’s going to do, but time is running out and he is far too deep in now. He can’t just turn back.

Hell, even if he did tried, no one really ever thought of him as ‘redeemable’, or ‘salvable’. He was damaged goods, and no one cared enough to try to get him out of his broken mentality.

Sometimes, when the security bar was down and he had the opportunity to get near the lava, he hoped that jumping into it would be enough.

Enough to stop all his thoughts, all the feelings eating him alive, all the screams of regret and the flashes of memories from everyone he had failed to.
To stop the daily torture that Quackity and Sam inflicted in him.

But no matter how many times he jumped, no relief was given to him.

Figures.
No rest for the wicked, they say. No mercy for the monster.

It was what he deserved.

_______________________________________________

The day of the festival, he wakes up screaming a few hours before the light of the sun starts coming from the horizon.

He doesn’t remember the nightmare that woke him up, but the burning sensation that travels though his entire body is enough to give him some idea of what happened in the dream world.
The door of his room slams open and he winces, pushing himself against the wall, as if that would help him escape his current situation.

“Dream?”

He doesn’t quite recognize the voice that calls him. He knows who’s voice it is, but it sounds… different. Broken, echoed.

Like that of the people controlled by the egg.

Dream hisses in his panic stupor, covering his torso with his legs and his face with his arms.

“Please don’t.” he begs in the softest of voices.

His voice sounds pitiful, and part of him regrets talking at all, because that usually gets him in far more trouble.

“Dream, can you hear me?”

Blinking, Dream slowly realizes that George is the one talking to him.
’How? Isn’t he…’.

The admin slowly separates his arms, leaving some space for him to see his friend. It’s just George. There’s a figure on the back, that he recognizes as Sapnap. And that’d be nice if the older one didn’t look like a fucking maimed undead, and the younger one wasn’t covered in vines and crimson. Dream tries to back away once again, but the wall in his back stops him right there and he whines, terrified.

“Dream? Can you hear me? It’s me. It’s George.”

Of course is George. It’s George who’s fucking dead and George who he failed to protect. The one that the survivors found dead in the community house and the one who’s last words to Dream were ‘just tell me you hate me’. The one who he didn’t get to see again.

“Dream,” Sapnap is the one who speaks this time, and his voice sounds so fucking wrong. “It’s Sapnap, buddy. Can you hear me?”

Sapnap. The one who promised him to kill him if he ever got out of prison. The one who chased him constantly, the one who proudly wore Nightmare from head to toes and the one who injured Ranboo on their way out of the Eggpire.

“Is just us.”

Dream covers his face with his hands, trying not to look at his friends who weren’t his friends. At the ones whom he abandoned and the ones who abandoned him in retaliation for his actions. He doesn’t want to see. It’s easier if he doesn’t.

“Dream. It’s fine. I promise.”

“We’re not going to hurt you. You’re safe.”

And gosh, he wanted to believe that so badly. But when was the last time he ever felt safe? When was the last time that he didn’t need to glance behind him to be sure no one was trying to follow him, or attack him by surprise? When was the last time people cared about him without ulterior motives of because he was supposed to be an important piece in the board? When was the last time he felt… human?

He freezes when something surrounds his body.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, Dream, but I need to ground you. Will you forgive me?”

The first thought that crosses his mind is a desperate ‘Run!’.

But slowly, his senses turn off, and he lets himself melt in the hug that one of his friends is providing. He doesn’t know if it’s the necklace the one providing the heat that he feels, but Dream feels inclined to say ‘no’. A second pair of arms join the hug.

When Dream finally uncovers his face, everything is normal again. No traces of crimson, of vines, or death. Just George and Sapnap, his two friends.

“I’m here.” He mumbles, a little head up to the two on top of him, just to let them know that his panic attack has dimmed down enough to let him back into reality. “’M sorry.” The words come slurred from his mouth.

“It’s okey.”

“We got you, man.”

_____________________________________________

Tubbo yawns, stretching his arms as he finally puts the last decoration.

Dream continues to try to dissuade him from going to the festival.
“I just… something is coming, Tubbo. Schlatt has been acting strangely lately and–”

“It’ll be fine. It’s a festival! Who would plan to do something bad in a day like this?”

He grimaces, not wanting to outright tell Tubbo what would happen, but also thinking of something that could change the teen’s mind. (Maybe he could just… lift the minor and drag him to Pogtopia. Maybe a stasis chamber could work? But he needed to release some suspicion from himself if he intended to protect the rest of the citizens of Manberg too. Tubbo wasn’t the only one in danger.)

“I’m just saying. Wouldn’t it be safer?”

“It’s fine, big man! Nothing bad will happen! The two of us will make sure of it!”

The admin sighs, dramatically, but the minor doesn’t seem to notice or care; he yawns once more, proudly looking at everything he did to make Manberg a nice place for the celebration at hand.

“Ponk helped making some attractions this last days. It was a little mess trying to decorate that zone too without messing up his creations, but it was fun!”

And Fundy fixed and decorated the electoral podium. A zone that was off-limits for both Tubbo and him by Schlatt’s orders. Not suspicious at all.
Might as well tell him ‘we suspect you and Tubbo and we’re planning something’.

“Karl also helped me make an ice rink and a fighting ring! plus a parkour course! I’m sure you’re gonna beat that one quickly! Probably gonna make everyone else suffer with the records!”

Dream smiled at the boy, but said nothing more, focusing on the mission.

“Wilbur… he said he investigated. There’s… a lot of TNT under the city.”

The admin freezes, turning his head towards Tubbo, listening to the minor’s warning.

“We’re pretty sure is the TNT that you gathered. Wilbur was trying to look for the button, but I got too busy I don’t know if he found it.”

Looking at the ground, Dream felt… fear. Reaching out for his transmisor, an idea set in his head, he sent a message.

“Do you think… Schlatt is planning to…?”

“I don’t know. But in any case, we gotta make sure he can’t.”

Tubbo nods, a frown painted in his face.

“I just want this dumb war to end. I wish Tommy and Wil and Nikki could be here for the festival, to enjoy all of this. I hate this.”

“We’re going to finish this war,” the words ‘I promise’ are left unsaid, but only because his tone reveals his intentions to do so. “It might take longer than what we want it to, but…”

“Thank you, Dream…”

“It’s no problem, bee.”

His transmisor pings, notifying him of a new message, and he quickly turns to it.

GeorgeNotFound whispers to you: we’re on it
GeorgeNotFound whispers to you: Karl is helping us find it but i can’t promise we will
GeorgeNotFound whispers to you: also Schlatt is on the white house so we can’t look there
GeorgeNotFound whispers to you: how much time do we have?

You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: not a lot.
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: the festival starts in a couple hours
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: try searching over the hill by the white house
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: last time the plan was to blow up Manberg during Tubbo’s speech
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: it didn’t happen tho
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: but now that schlatt’s the one who wants to blow up everything I’m not sure if he’s gonna wait more or not.
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: basically we’re kinda screwed
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: idk if he’s planning to do it today either or
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: nothing actually

GeorgeNotFound whispers to you: shit
GeorgeNotFound whispers to you: well we’ll look for it but i can’t promise we’ll find it
GeorgeNotFound whispers to you: see ya at the festival
GeorgeNotFound whispers to you: don’t do something stupid

You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: before or during the festival?

GeorgeNotFound whispers to you: either
GeorgeNotFound whispers to you: idiot

______________________________________________

Sighing has become something that Dream does a lot. Sometimes, twice an hour. Right now, it’s been like eight times in the last seven minutes, and he was starting to get worried that he would deflate like a balloon.
First, Tubbo completely ignoring his warning and running off to prepare for the speech.
Then, Wilbur and Tommy hiding in such a fucking obvious place, like last time.
Techno giving him thumbs up does not help at all considering both the past… future? and present history of shit the hybrid has done, and Sapnap running around covered in mud is probably going to give him something. Is a wonder how the admin still has his heart complete. Anyone else in this situation would probably be dead or something.
And the fact that armors were banned during the festival certainly didn’t help to alleviate his worries.

The place was slowly filling up, almost everyone from the server getting a seat in the benches prepared for the opening of the festival. Quackity was roaming around the games, searching for anything that might be a risk for Schlatt. Dream was sitting on top of the podium, (vertigo making the ground look farther than it actually was, the fear of falling revolting in his guts, and Dream ignoring it because he didn’t have time to worry about that). He couldn’t see Tubbo nor Schlatt, but he could faintly hear their voices.

Tubbo sounds excited.
And by the sound of it, Schlatt is praising him over how amazing the decorations turned out.

(He bites his lip, annoyed at the realization that it’s so similar to what he did to Tubbo and Tommy the time during exile and the months before he got himself caught and sent to prison. So, so similar…)

To be fair to Schlatt, Tubbo had done a great job.

And the new president was sure enjoying everything. Dream could see from the top of the structure how the minor dragged the hybrid around the place, showing him and letting him test the games and different activities that were planned for the festival. With the man completely sober, and… actually happy. With Quackity soon joining them for the multiplayer ones, it seemed like a normal relationship. If anyone saw them for the first time, they easily could’ve confused for a healthy pair with an adopted child or something.

His frown slowly dissolved. Schlatt looked… relaxed. Happy, normal. The lack of alcohol and the excitement the man was displayed, it almost made Dream forget that he was the enemy. That Schlatt was actively hurting everyone around him out of pure spite towards higher beings knows what.

(Dream did the same.

Different reasons; more desperate ones.

But reasons aren’t a justification, and he knows that. He isn’t expecting anyone to forgive him just because he’s now doing his actual fucking job. The fact that he once went against Schlatt just because it was an actual competition for power instead of doing it because it was the right thing to do still stood in the back of his mind, reminding him that his actions aren’t pure and that he isn’t the saint everyone in the new timeline seem to think he is.

But the fact that he learned, even if it was only after several months of isolation and almost nothing more that time to think about what he did, makes him hesitate.

Quackity deserves a chance to heal. To fully actually heal, away from Schlatt, with people who weren’t using him or hurting him.
But could Schlatt too be redeemable? If he offered his hand to Schlatt, would the other man take it?

Because if Dream was comparing himself with someone, it would definitely be Schlatt, considering that both went mad with power. That both reached a high position in the server and that both were finally left alone to rot in different places, alone and surrounded by people they once thought to be trustful but ended up being enemies.

If he had the chance to save Schlatt…
Would he take it?)

(Most importantly…
If Schlatt couldn’t be saved…

Could Dream?)

A ping sounded and he slammed back into reality, quickly watching the transmisor; his hope died once he read the message from George that the redstone circuit was still missing. And just in time for more disappointment to come, because Tubbo, Schlatt and Quackity were slowly walking towards the podium, making their way as the citizens of the SMP finally started reuniting in the place.

Oh god was Tommy nodding at Tubbo?

Can they be more fucking obvious?

At least Wilbur had the common sense to drag the blond teen back into hiding, because if Schlatt saw them this fucking early he was personally gonna go hit them in the face or something.

(It happens two more times, while they wait for Fundy to arrive after the fox hybrid dies by fall damage twice in the last two minutes, and he finally sends a message to the youngest member of the SMP:

You whisper to TommyInnit: Goddammit Tommy stop showing your face you’re gonna get caught.

TommyInnit whispers to you: Shut up bitch, i’m not

Dream only rolls his eyes and signals him to hide again, to which the minor answers with his middle fingers

Technoblade, in the public, is totally aware of their small bickering, because a few seconds after the act, a message pings once again in his transmisor and it’s from the piglin hybrid telling them off).

(Technoblade is also throwing a lot of shade towards Schlatt, and if Dream’s laughing, no one can really tell, so sue him).

Finally, Schlatt starts the introduction to the festival.

It’s quick. Quicker than he remembers it to be, but that’s truly unimportant at the moment, and as Schlatt lets everyone free to roam around the place, he could care less. He really just wants to get down from the stupid podium.

(Didn’t Schlatt have health problems?
He can see the man somewhat struggling to walk at the same peace the rest do, but in the original timeline Schlatt could barely walk, or breath. The man looked so much healthier this time. What changed?
The burnt tails of smokes still filled up the ground of wherever the hybrid walked, and the shit ton of empty alcohol bottles decorated the white house and some places of Manberg.

How is Schlatt so… well, not dying, this time?)

His mission today was mostly security, so he really didn’t have a lot of time to actually play with the rest, but that was fine because that way he could watch over Schlatt and Quackity to make sure they don’t actually blow up the whole place. Probably had to think about a peaceful way to distract them, or to stop them without being extremely suspicious. He was a man on a mission, and no amount of partying around him would make him waver. He had to concentrate on the task he had before something bad happened again.
Still, it made him kind of… sad? seeing everyone enjoying themselves while he had to play sentry.
The only thing that made him feel better was Technoblade being a dumbass and failing to properly ask about different things.

“We should totally talk about state secrets for fun, haha”

“Yeah, no”, “That’s… no, no, I don’t think we…”, “Technoblade what the f–”.

(Tubbo jogs towards the space station. He notices. Schlatt notices. Neither say a thing but there’s a mutual understanding. At this point, both know the truth behind the minor’s escapades and while the ram hybrid isn’t talking, the question is painted in his expression.

What is he going to do?)

He focuses on the guests, most dispersed in the different games that Ponk created on the last week, some just talking and some just standing around, searching for something to do.

(He hopes Techno saw, and that he’s going to warn Tubbo not to come back. Maybe George is now observing and he’s the one to tell the Pogtopians about Schlatt knowledge. Maybe Sapnap– Wilbur? Tommy?

He prays that someone stops Tubbo from coming back).

The festival continues as if nothing is happening behind scenes. Dream laughs at Sapnap when the younger challenges Techno in the fighting ring, just to get his butt handed back to him in no more than half a minute.
George and Karl aren’t there.
Ponk and Sam are having a nice time in the archery stand, and Punz and Purpled are trying their chances at the small parkour trail.
Tubbo isn’t back yet and that’s good.
And, Skeppy and Bad run around the place trying their luck at everything they can find.
Quackity is playing with a llama, and there are people at the lemonade stand and the ice rink.

Schlatt is getting impatient.

“You know,” Dream jumps just a little when Quackity speaks to him suddenly, appearing from behind him. “Tubbo has been gone for a while now.”

He hums in agreement, taking a step forward and twisting his own body into a posture where he could watch over the people and still look at the other man.
“Think he bailed the speech?”

“No. Not really. I think he had… someone to talk to. Unless you have seen him around?”

Is a test. Tubbo hasn’t been around for a long time now, and no one has seen him. Definitely not Dream. If he tries to cover for the minor, he’s gonna get in trouble. Against his deep desire to protect them, this time he says the truth.
(And damn. He didn’t want to lie anymore. Not like he had in the original timeline. But he never thought saying the truth would be as frustrating).

“Not really. He really left? For good?”

“Well, you haven’t seen him, and Fundy either. One can just wonder.”

Quackity puts his hand in Dream’s shoulder, and he freezes, not wanting to go through any fucking problem again. He knows he stopped breathing and he knows that his heart is pounding in his chest as if it was ready to break out of his body, and he’s well aware that this Quackity wouldn’t even think of doing the same atrocities as the original one, but that doesn’t stop every single function in his brain from shutting off.

“You know; you always act weird around me. You’re very… rebel, should I say?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck–

“You always seem so tense around me, Dream.”

He opens his mouth to speak but finds not a single sound disposed to come out from his throat.

“I thought that you were just hiding something. Protecting someone,” the younger man says, pressing his hand even harder, making Dream wince. It’s not a lot of strength, is not something he’s not used to. But it feels similar to the prison in ways he cannot describe. “But I’ve seen you with Schlatt too. I know it’s not that.”

Fuck. He turns his face slightly, searching for George, or Sapnap, or fucking Techno or– whoever. Just anyone that could get him out of this place fucking now.

“It’s not always, of course.”

Quackity’s other hand lays in his other shoulder, forcing him to look towards the smaller man. Quackity’s strength has nothing on him, but Dream still lets himself be moved around like a ragdoll, the overwhelming fear that hammers in his chest making him comply.

“Sometimes you’re still an asshole. Sometimes you continue to fight me and piss me the fuck off. But sometimes, like right now, you’re very… pleasant.”

Dream gasps sharply when he catches on the malicious glint in the other one’s eyes. The toothy smile and the pressure in his shoulders.

This is exactly like future Quackity.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re afraid of me, Dream.”

He can only listen to the words said to him by the smaller man, the rest of the sound in the background transformed into nothing more than a ringing noise at the back of his head, forcing his full attention on the man that is in front of him.
Quackity smile expands, if that’s even possible.

“Oh, Dreamy. Are you… trembling?”

Is he?
He doesn’t know. He can’t think. He can’t see, he can’t breathe, he can’t–

“Answer me.”

“I–… yes, sir.”

It takes a few seconds, and he can’t rationalize what he just said, but Quackity can because the other man explodes in laughter. A wheezing that Dream recognizes from days of torture.

“Oh, man. You are. You’re fucking terrified!”

He gulps. The hands are still in his shoulder, and Quackity is so fucking close and he still isn’t breathing and–

“I wonder why?”

“Whatever’s the reason, you probably should scatter, Quackity.” Someone behind Dream is the one to speak, a monotonous voice breaching the uncomfortable moment.

“Oh. Hey Technoblade. Hadn’t see you there.”

“Go away, Quackity.”

“Come here often? I–”

“I’m not repeating myself again. This is your last chance.”

Quackity, who isn’t looking at Dream anymore, sighs deeply before finally releasing him and rising his arms in mock surrender.

“Fine, yeah. Whatever. Gotta find Tubbo. Better get him to prepare for the speech.”

The man turns around and just walks away. Someone, (Techno), sets a hand in one of his shoulders and he fucking jumps away, half taking a defense position, ready to fight.
There, Techno stares at him with a frown and a tired face.
It’s Techno.
It’s just Technoblade.

“Dream? You okey there, nerd?”

A wave of dizziness hits him straight in the face, and he almost falls to the ground, only stopped by the hybrid’s hand in his wrist.

“Hey, teletubby. Can you hear me?’

He can. He’s pretty sure he can, anyways. Maybe a bit too loud. He nods, somewhat, still unable to form full sentences. Actually, he can’t do a lot. It’s lie the world is spinning.

Techno curses under his breath, and pulls the admin towards him; the admin who stumbles in his way towards the hybrid and who face plants against the other man chest.

“Come on. I’m no good at dealing with people breakdowns and being in the middle of this place isn’t gonna help either.” The man says, lifting him and dropping him over the shoulder like dead weight, looking both ways, making sure no one follows them as he walks somewhere, and Dream doesn’t pay attention.

But can it be worse than anywhere near Quackity?

He closes his eyes, deciding that; no. Not really. If Quackity it’s not there, every place is instantly better by… like, fifty percent at least. It’s not a joke, but he laughs anyways, drifting off and letting the hybrid carry him wherever.

Chapter Text

Flowers are beautiful. Their forms and colors and the way they invade whole countries in a peaceful way, it is something that makes Dream smile.

It’s terribly sad when he is in battlefield that’s nothing more than dirt and patches of grass. Whether they’re fighting for freedom or for power, or defending a beautiful boat, or waking up in the remains of a small village that burnt to the ground.

That’s why he loves flowers. Because they rise and shine and make everything better. Decorating every single place they can reach, from the big clearings in the middle of the forest or in a small vase on top of a table. The flowers speak of celebrations and good days, of gift, of pride, of happiness.

However, there’s also something sad about flowers.
More than anything, it might be the fact that they’re mostly given to ask for forgiveness.
When someone cheats on their partner, or when you failed to do something and you want to make up with their beauty…

When someone dies, and the softness of the petals are the only thing that could hope to reach that person in the afterlife.

Dream remembers a lot of songs about flowers, too.
Most are romantic, comparing the beauty of a partner to the red roses that are so difficult to find and grow but are still some of the most beautiful plants in the place.
Some speak of the sunflowers that look only at the sun, and some speak of the small dandelions that grow in the worst of conditions but grow nevertheless.

There’s a song about forget me nots, that doesn’t really speak about them, but it still is one of the most important parts of the lyrics. That one is probably one of his favorites, because the song speaks of flowers and war and that’s probably something that is so… Dream.

War. And flowers.
The sound of cannons or TNT, the thrill of a massacre that shouldn’t be happening yet still is. The fact that crimson slowly follows him no matter where he hides or the side he chooses, hammering in his head at the reminder of his responsibilities and the unyielding truth that he can never escape them because that’s all he is.

And it reminds him of screams, and begging, and a flower field with stones, names carved into them as a reminder of all the people he failed to protect and all the people who became followers. And the names are different each time he walks by the field in his memories.
Sometimes is that of a lover. Of a sibling. Of a mother.

Recently, the names are mostly those of people he once called family, yet he still fought against them with no more than just a bit of regret.

Sometimes, the field is invaded with crimson, and vines and pain, as he himself is.
The egg has no humanoid form, preferring to use Bad’s, or Skeppy’s or none at all, just manhandling him with vines as if he’s just a puppet (and he is).

It coos at him.
The voice echoes only in his head, not caring if it’s a dream or not. It forces him to hear every single word, and not even covering his ears or screaming in pain will relief him from that curse.

“shh, it’s alright,” the voice that sounds like thousand’s mumbles in his mind. “I’m proud of you, Dream. You’re doing great.”

He kneels, in front of (CatJakeBilliamSullyMoriDrista) George’s tomb, softly reaching for a rotten flower on top of the already dry dirt.

“But that’s enough, now. That bastard was cruel to send you against me. To make you fight me. To pass onto you our war, and make what was his, yours. You could’ve never won. Not Tommy, not your friends. Not you. It’s not your fault, godling.”

If Dream looks around, the field is gonna be empty. All the flowers that were thriving just a few minutes ago are now dead, and all the tombs have the names scratched out, trying to make him forget.
But he doesn’t. He never will.
So he doesn’t look around, instead focusing on the small flower.

If he feels brave enough, he’ll answer back.

“I did beat you.”

Then the egg will laugh. A cruel, mocking laugh that he hears hitting each wall in his brain.

“But you didn’t beat me, sweetheart. If you had, I wouldn’t be here!”

In the corner of his eyes, he can see the vines slowly approaching him and his flower. There’s not a tomb in front of him anymore, but he chooses not to care. He takes the broken plant in his hands, with the care of a mother handling a newborn.

“You couldn’t beat me there, and you can’t beat me now. You’re alone, godling. There’s only darkness for you, and only death for your people”.

Dream huffs a laugh, the flower covered by his hands, protected by his fingers as everything turns red and the vines grab his everything, wrapping him up like a gift for Christmas.

“You are strong. But me? Dear Dream, I am more than that. Far beyond whatever you could dream of, and never anywhere near your reach. I am the end, Dream. I am the hell.”

He peaks, letting a small opening in between his hands to be able to see the small plant.

“I am the opposite of you, darling. And I have come for you.”

The flower is alive.

It’s an iris.

__________________________________________

At some point, Techno changes the dynamic, and instead of carrying him, he works as a clutch for Dream to use. His dizzy self barely registers it, but some part of him is thankful.

He’s still in a daze, so even if he’s (in theory) completely conscious while Techno helps him walk outside of the festival zone, his memory of getting out of that place is nothing more than some lights and colors dancing around in his vision, the only recognizable thing being a pink braid and a red cape.

“Holy– is he okay?” He hears. It sounds like George, but he might be hallucinating again.

“’M pretty sure he is completely okay physically. Mentally? I think he’s still in the middle of a panic attack.”

“Dream? Can you hear me?”

He nods again.
He can hear. He still doesn’t recognize where he is, or who’s talking to him. But he can hear.

“Okey. Look at me. Do you know where we are? Can you tell me anything?”

Dream opens his mouth to speak once again, but not a single sound comes from it, so he closes it again, shaking his head.
(A freezing fear plays with his chest. He remembers words and warnings. He is to address someone as sir, and he is to answer all questions if he doesn’t want to get hurt. He only does one).

“To which?”

He lifts two fingers.

“Fuck. Okay. Dream? It’s me, George. I need you to breath with me, can you do that?”

He thinks about it, just for a few seconds, before nodding.

“Great. Follow my lead.”

Inhale… Exhale… Inhale… Exhale…
There’s a warm feeling in his chest. Splotches of colors and light slowly transform into the main path and George and Technoblade.
Inhale… Exhale… Inhale… Exhale…
He’s clearly not in the prison. If he thinks a little about it, he’s not even in his timeline. He’s in the past, fixing everything.
Inhale… Exhale… Inhale… Exhale…

“Can you talk, nerd?”

He closes his eyes. He’s grounded already. Not– not good. Not yet. He still needs some time to calm down before being able to say that the attack has passed. But he is calm enough that he can finally understand what they’re saying to him; what’s happening.
Dream opens his eyes and shakes his head again.

“Well. That’s gonna be a problem.”

“Do you want us to take over? You can– I can get you home. Maybe Sapnap can start someone to force them to close off the festival, and–”

Dream shakes his head, again, this time a little more desperate.

“Dream–”

The admin holds George’s hand. It works, and the other man sighs. Taking this opportunity, Dream takes out his transmisor, and messages George, who instantly does the same with his comunicator.

(He ignores his shaking hands. The message is rewritten thrice before he can finally get the correct spelling on the words, but he ignores it because it’s a weakness, and he can’t be weak. Not right now. No with Tubbo in danger).

You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: They know Tubbo is a spy
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: I think they’re going to try to execute him

George looks back at him, unamused.
“If we force their hand, or tell Wilbur right now…”

You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: They suspect me too.
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: If neither of us go back they’ll know

The smaller man frowns.

“So? who cares? You two will be safe.”

You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: There’s TNT under Manberg. You know this George.

George scoffs. “Dream, I don’t give a flying fuck about Manberg. Or Wilbur, or Tommy for that matter. I do give a flying fuck about you. You just had a panic attack! You can’t even talk! To hell with them. Their city can burn.”

“Not to get in the middle of your very important married couple fight, but he’s kinda right, nerd. Honestly I’m just helping because I don’t like governments. But considering the entirety of Manberg was created mostly to spite you… yeah, it’s pretty weird that you’re still going to these lengths to help.”

You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: I don’t care about Manberg
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: But Tommy and Tubbo and Wilbur
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: And Nikki, and Karl and Fundy and
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: Them. They’re our friends. My friends. I don’t want to leave them
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: Schlatt’s hurting them

“To the cost of your health? They can do it on their own.”

You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: George. Please.

“Dream!” George exclaims, hurt and annoyed. “What about you!? When are you going to think about yourself, you fucking asshole?”

He blinks.

You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: I already thought of myself a lot
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: I already messed up that once

“No you didn’t! You didn’t think of yourself! From what you said to us, you fucking yeeted your self-importance out of the window and embraced madness or something to protect everyone. You were a self-sacrificial dumbass there, and you’re doing the same in the opposite direction now!”

Dream frowned. He messaged something, but George slammed his own communicator in the ground, ignoring it and continuing.

“When can you be happy? When can you do something for yourself?! When can you take care of yourself? You can’t just keep doing this! Pushing everything to extremes! Burning yourself out like this!”

“Ehh… This is starting to get a bit personal so I- I’m going back to the festival and, uh… yeah. See you there, losers.”

“Please, Dream!”

George was now holding Dream’s hand with such strength that the admin himself thought that he might disappear if the other let go.

“It hurts to see you like this! It hurts not knowing how to help! If helping them is doing this to you, why should you help at all? That’s not your responsibility!”

But it is.
He messed up. He ruined everything. He hurt and maimed and killed.
He…. He had to do things right this time. Dream owed them that much.

You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: I’m sorry, George.

The other man barely glances the message before putting the communicator back in the ground, focusing once more on Dream, his expression sad, with a small and bitter smile.

“Of course you are.”

The other man lets go, and straightens somewhat. He’s mad, that much is clear, but refuses to say anything more about the topic, knowing it will get them nowhere.

“Will you at least tell me what made you panic? So we can help?”

Dream hesitates, but…
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: Quackity.
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: We…
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: He hurt me a lot.
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: I don’t want to explain because then you won’t want to help him afterwards.

“I already don’t want to help him at all if he sent you into a panic attack, idiot”.

You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: But he… he’s not that bad
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: Schlatt is hurting him too
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: I think he just needs help

George sighs.
“You’re an idiot, Dream. You can have time if you need, but you’re telling me what Quackity did. It’s not an option.”

You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: I know.
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: I will
You whisper to GeorgeNotFound: Thank you, George.

“Don’t thank me, you idiot. This is like, basic friendship one o one. Come on, let’s get you back to the festival, before something else happens.”

______________________________________

George does accompany him back to the festival.

The older man isn’t happy, and stays with him all the time, which is both great and terrible, because while his presence is grounding and it soon easies into finally speaking once again (after a couple of hours, anyways), it too draws attention to him, something he doesn’t want for a lot of different reasons, but mostly because he hates the feeling of people staring at him from afar. Is really annoying.

As far as he knows, present Karl is currently still searching for the TNT, and he knows Sapnap is enjoying the festival, torn between actually partying, searching for anything suspicious, and checking on Dream, (which rude, George. Can’t a guy keep a panic attack secret for a while?).

Techno hasn’t spoken to him since the… small incident. But Dream is inclined to take that as a good thing, because if Techno fucking blade of all people was worrying over him, Dream would find the TNT and blow everything up himself.

(Joking, by the way. Dream would jump off a cliff before doing something like that again).

It kinda scared him that someone knew the effect that Quackity had on him, because that means that they know that something happened. Especially, it worries him that Quackity knows, of all people. He knew that the man was observant despite his joking personality, but coming to the realization that Dream feared him after just a few interactions where Dream was just too nervous to act high and all mighty with the other man was definitely amazing, and if the admin weren’t terrified, he’d be honest to the higher beings impressed.

In any way, Tubbo’s speech was coming closer, and the minor still wasn’t anywhere in the place. Which was actually good if anything, but the fact that no message had gotten to him giving him a heads up was making him really anxious.

“You’re fidgeting a lot. Are you sure you don’t want to try any game?”

“Schlatt might kill me if I get distracted any more time”

George laughs. “What’s he gonna do? Baa you to death?”

Dream laughs back, shaking his head. “George!” He whines. “That’s the same thing I thought, stop stealing my amazing ideas!”

“No, but seriously. We can’t really do anything to him because of the treaties. But what’s stopping Technoblade, or the other two to just go and kill him? He’s not… really a threat.”

“Well. Mostly Quackity. If they kill Schlatt, Quackity could retaliate.”

“Then kill both?”

“George killing people isn’t an answer. Especially not a perma-death”

“I just- I don’t get it. Why are they so afraid of the two of them? Like, they won the elections by one percent. Neither of them know how to hold themselves in an actual fight. I don’t understand why no one has done anything. We could probably, like, go right now, break their knees and get away with it”

“It’s… complicated. There’s just something about them… It’s… different than before I time traveled. They’re more coordinated, more focused. I don’t know what it is, but they have something that they didn’t have last time and it’s doing them miracles”

“Whatever it is, I think it’s dumb.”

Dream frowns, actually agreeing with his friend. Why was everyone so afraid of Schlatt now? Why was he afraid of Schlatt, of all people?
In the original timeline, he had fought against the man because he held a lot of power and he didn’t want to deal with another king taking everything in the server. In the original timeline Schlatt had support, and strength.
Dream planning this time made it different. Almost everyone was on Pogtopia’s side from the start, and whoever wasn’t, probably didn’t really care a lot for Schlatt’s rules. To some degree, Schlatt had no support but… Dream. Fundy, Jack, Quackity and Karl were still there, of course. But Karl was helping them, so that meant he didn’t really care about Schlatt, and Jack was mostly doing it out of fear for losing his house.

If Dream just… left, the other two would probably soon follow. Or at least, if a takeback occurred, they wouldn’t resist. Hell, if he spoke to Techno, Wilbur and Tommy know, they could go back to Pogtopia, grab their stuff, and join in to do a takeover right now. They’d probably win, too.

What was stopping Dream from just leaving?

(He knows that there’s a part of him that’s afraid of Schlatt’s threat. The ‘you think this is the only thing I’ve got?’ thing really got to him.
If Schlatt had a relic like the book, what could stop him from having another one? Something more dangerous?
What if Schlatt knew about the egg and…?

Worse. What if Schlatt knew how to break the seal?

Shit).

“Stop overthinking, dumbass. You’re gonna fry the few braincells you have.”

Dream huffed.
“Talking from experience, Gogy?”

“Yeah. A friend experience. You’ve seen Sapnap?”

“Wow, okey, first of all, rude. Second of all–”

“Yeah, yeah. Just relax, idiot. Things aren’t going to fall apart if you slow down for a minute or two.”

He rolled his eyes, but said nothing more, choosing to listen to the googled man for just a few seconds.
The loud music that blasted from higher beings know where, and he laid back against a fence. The festival had officially started around an hour before midday, when the sun was almost on top of them; right now, however, hours had passed by, and the bright star was already starting to hide, painting the sky with oranges and purples. Some of the attractions started to use tinted glass to make disco lights, different colors beaming in all directions, especially around the dancing zone. No one had left yet, most still running around, attempting luck at the different things that formed part of the festivity.

It was… perfect.

If Dream closed his eyes, it almost felt like nothing bad was happening. Like the egg was forever sealed, and Schlatt was actually a good president, and no one was fighting, or trying to kill each other.
It felt like all he had fought to achieve was real.

An alarm echoed through the place, making him jerk awake, (and fuck, he almost fell asleep…). He looked at George, who quickly shrugged his shoulders, declaring that he didn’t know what was happening either.

Schlatt voice came from the podium, the speakers letting him reach every single place on the festival, and maybe a little farther.

“Hey, everyone. We’re gonna have a small, uh, speech. Come here so the kid can start speaking, and make it quick.”

Dream straightened, fully standing now.

“Shit. No one warned Tubbo?”

He fucking knew it. He should’ve gone look for the kid, sent the message himself, fucking tell Wilbur to stop him, but no! he didn’t! what a fucking idiot. He sprints directly to where Schlatt instructed them, leaving George behind, but only giving a few steps towards the podium before a hand grabs his arm, stopping him.

“Dream– wait–” George makes Dream turn towards him. “What do we do?”

Dream bites his lip, thinking. Looking for a solution. Time is slowly running out. He can see everyone approaching the place where the festival started, and the place where it’s also gonna end.

“Just, be there. Try not to make a fuzz, and stay on the sidelines. Hide, and be careful.”

George didn’t like that, but still nodded.

“And you? Dream, you can’t just do this alone”

“I– I have to get Tubbo out of there. Last time they boxed him and made Techno shoot him. I don’t know what they’ll do this time but–”

“Then you’ll need help!”

“You don’t get it. I can’t risk it.”

“Risk what, Dream?”

“Sapnap and you.” Dream admits, his voice lowering. “I… I already lost you guys once. I don’t want to do it again…”

George sighs, shaking his head. It’s not disappointment, and Dream can tell, even if his brain tries to refuse.
“I said it before, idiot. You’re not getting rid of us so easily this time. But if you won’t take me with you, at least take this. In case things go wrong”

A bunch of ender pearls fall into his hands, and a crossbow soon follows, the fireworks that are used as ammo accompanying both things.

“Do you have water?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. In that case... good luck. Please be safe Dream.”

He smiles, cocky, using the smaller man as an armrest.
“When am I not?”

“Do you want the list chronologically or alphabetically?” The googled one says, pushing him away.

The admin stumbles slightly, laughing, as he starts walking backwards towards the podium.

“See you home, George?”

“You wish. I’ll be back here when this whole disaster ends, waiting for you. Sapnap will too.”

He sends a small thumbs up towards George, just to finally turn fully towards his new direction, increasing speed as he walks through the now empty streets of the festival.

The speed is just a tad too much to stop abruptly, so he uses a column to help himself. Finally, he stands at the back of the entire place, directly standing in front of Tubbo, who’s already in the middle of the podium, where Schlatt stood a few hours ago. He curses when Quackity catches him in the corner of his eye, the younger man fully turning his head towards him, a mocking grin set in his face, making Dream’s guts twist uncomfortably.

‘Ah, Dream. We were waiting for you’, a familiar voice flashes through his mind, a blocked memory attempting to come out.

(A closed off corridor, black stone and red vines surrounding the place. Someone is pushing him to the front, and their face is blurred off, no matter how much he tries to remember who that person is. There are others. People whose no more than mere followers, but used to be friends, acquaintances. In front… the egg. Waiting for him. He’s come this far. He’s here once again.)

Blinking reveals that he’s still in the festival. Everyone is still looking towards the podium.

“When Tubbo said, ‘Schlatt, I’d like to say my piece about how great this country is, and how awesome you are’… Well, who am I to say no to that?”

Fundy isn’t anywhere to be seen.

“And so without any further ado, I think I’ll put big man Tubbo, my right hand man, uh… my… protégée. Up on the mic, to speak some things.”

Everyone in the place scream in excitement, and the ram hybrid departs from the spotlight, giving the microphone Tubbo, who quickly revises everything to finally give his speech. Schlatt mutters something, annoyed, and the teen nods, finally taking the microphone.

“Uh. Hey everyone.”

Tubbo looks to the top of the building, and the towards Dream, smiling excited, relaxed.

“I’m… well… too short to reach the microphone, so it… doesn’t quite sound like Schlatt, but…”

Manifold, at the back of the group, stands up quietly and starts walking away. He catches a glance at Dream, who’s still frozen in place, and makes a little face that indicates that nothing is gonna go as planned before leaving.

“A… A wise man once said to me, that L’manburg is like a lettuce! There are so many layers of tasty and healthy goodness, and once you pull all the caterpillars and worms off the surface, it’s a pretty goddamn good meal!

“Schlatt has successfully washed all of the insects of our great nation. And with that, he’s allowed all the goodness and tastiness to shine through”

He doesn’t want to look up, but from the corner of his eyes, in the far away corner of the NASA building to the side of the benches, how Tommy was carefully watching the speech.

“I’d like you to look around at what we’ve built today. Look at each other! All of this thanks to democracy, and the leadership of J Schlatt! And this is what this festival is all about.”

(There’s just a hint of regret in Tubbo’s face. A small disappointment, sadness, disgust. No one else notices. If they do, at least no one mentions it).

“Democracy.” Tubbo says in a smaller voice. “Our people has been beaten down by royals and dictators for so long… but now we are finally free. Free to elect who we want. Free to live how we want. And most importantly, free to be whoever we want without the shackles that out former…. uh… president… put on us.”

He can’t see Wilbur, but he can imagine that the man isn’t taking this super nicely.
However, there’s really no way to know how the ex-president will actually react in this new timeline.

“And with that in mind, I’d like to thank everyone for coming to this wonderful event!”

Silence. No one claps, or scream, or even speaks. Schlatt hand is up in the air, indicating that he wants everyone to be silent. The ram hybrid starts laughing.
Dream curses. There’s someone behind him. Fundy, he is sure. Holding an arrow straight to his head. It’s a warning not to move.

“Wh… what is it, Schlatt?”

Tubbo has noticed that Dream is being held to gunpoint, and so his voice cracks under the realization that something really bad is about to happen.
(Sapnap is looking at Dream, and eye murdering Fundy. But Dream just shakes his head. Is imperceptible for anyone who isn’t looking for the signal).

“Oh. Nothing.”
The man’s voice echoes through the mic, even when there’s a lot of distance between him and the object.
“I was just thinking. Tubbo. You know that I like to have fun, right?”

“I… uh… yeah.”

The minor jumps when Quackity gets just a little too close, turning towards the benches in an attempt to look at both men around him.
The rest of the people is as tense as Dream is.

“What… What’s up?”

“Anything else in your speech, Tubs?”

Tubbo winces at the nickname. “Uh… no. Just… let the festival continue. I’m done with the speech, Schlatt!”

“Alright.”

Schlatt stretches his arms, looking bored at the confirmation that the kid was done, ready to be let go.

“Then Quackity, do me the honors.”

The other man smirks, proudly giving a couple of steps back, appearing a button out of thin air, connecting it with a pillar, and pressing it.

…Nothing happened.

“Quackity fucking press the–”

“I did! It just– we talked about this, man, it takes a couple of seconds.”

“A fucking couple of seconds won’t fucking do, Quackity.”

“Look, the redstone takes time. Especially if it’s so handmade like what we did.”

“Fucking shit–”

“Uh… guys…”

“Shut the fuck up, Tubbo, we’re talking.”

“Well, did you put the stupid button on the correct place?”

“Of course I did!”

“Well then why isn’t it work–”

The roof on top of Tubbo opened, dropping concrete powder and water, instantly making the blocks harden, to the kid’s terror.

“Guys! guys, guys, guys. We can– uh… we can talk about this! come on! What’s–”

Schlatt clears his throat, as if the small bicker between Quackity and him hadn’t happened, instead focusing on the minor once more.

“Sch… Schlatt?”

Dream growled, position slowly shifting into an aggressive one, only stopped when the tip of the bow touched his neck.

“Sorry, Dream.” Fundy murmured behind him, his words only for the admin to be heard. True regret latched onto the apology, and yet…

“Wait, Schlatt!!”

“Tubbo, I’ll cut to the fucking chase, alright?”

“Tell him, pres, tell him!” Quackity’s screams of excitement made Dream’s blood boil.

“Tubbo. I know what you’ve been up to, kid. And I don’t like it at all”

Chapter Text

The day after Karl explains to him how timelines work, Dream wonders if there’s a line where everyone is friends and the egg doesn’t exist. If he just wakes up, and goes to walk, and fools around with Tommy, Ranboo and Tubbo for a while before continuing his way. If in one day he spars with Techno and listens to Wilbur tuning his guitar, and then accompanies Bad and Skeppy, before going for cookies with Nikki.

Maybe, then, the next day he spends it with George and Sapnap, hearing the two bicker while they ride different horses, exploring the world for resources, Spirit overshadowing the ones that his friends have because of course Spirit is the best and the fastest and the most amazing horse in the world.

Perhaps, afterwards, he follows Puffy a while, ending up in a conversation with her and Foolish over unimportant things that for them are really important, admiring the builder’s new construction.

The next day, he goes to annoy Purpled and Sam, and Punz and Ponk, accompanied by Callahan and Alyssa. Hannah and Connor join them along the way, and Dream shies away a little because he’s always been a little shy with people that aren’t as close, but enjoying the day nevertheless.

One day, he’ll go with Ant to get some stuff for potions to the nether, and he’ll find Philza and Jack in the place, both doing their own thing but still sparing a small wave towards the two.

A nice tea and just screaming around with Karl in the library about lost stories and what the rest of the server has been doing recently during the weekend, when a weird storm has formed around the mainland even if the days before had been peaceful.

Really, anyone could call something like that a dream come true.

When he opens his eyes, he finds himself badly accommodated on a desk, his neck and back hurting when he tries to stretch, a lot of papers with ingredients and notes for the preparations scattered around, and the sweet dream he just had slowly transforming into no more than a nice memory. He stands up, sighing, wondering if it’s even worth continuing.

Voices comes from the first floor, Sapnap and George bickering again over something.

He decides that maybe it is.

_____________________________________

Schlatt sighs dramatically.
Quackity, on the other side, walks around, directed at the brothers, a charged crossbow pointing directly at Wilbur, (whose in front of Tommy, protecting the other with his body, defensive stand and a hand on a basic sword. But it’s useless to some degree. Wilbur has never been a fighter, and a sword cannot counter a crossbow like that).

“Tubbo, I don’t know if you noticed,” Schlatt walks in front of the caged teen, never looking at him. “But treason isn’t exactly a respectable thing around here. And I know you’ve been doing it! Your absences from big events, the tunnels. Shit, you planned all of this and still ditched it to go see your buddies!”

Tubbo jumps away, pushing himself against the back of his small prison when Schlatt slams a hand on the fences that work as bars, rattling them.

“So don’t try and tell me that you’ve done nothing wrong. And!” With that last word, Schlatt turns, directing a sneer at Dream. “You’re not the only one, are you?”

Dream can feel all eyes on him now. Part of him wants to crumble, to just stop, go back home and rest because this fucking day is a mess and everything has gone south and–
But he breathes. He can hear his heart beating, but choses to stand proud, not a single emotion showing in his covered face. No one can see; but that has never stopped him before. If he has to hide who he is, he’ll do it even from himself.

“We all know. There’s no hiding now, kids. And you two know what happens to traitors?”

“Oh?” Tubbo asks, small voice.

“Nothing good, of course! Dream, come up here for a second.”

He doesn’t move an inch, and this time, Fundy doesn’t force him to, even when both vice and president look like the might come down and murder both.

“HA! You’re a dumb bitch if you thing Big D is following your stupid fucking orders!”

The ram hybrid hums, doing a signal. By Tommy’s side, Jack jumps down, pointing his bow towards the kid, forcing Wilbur to move around to protect him, even with the minor’s complains.
Quackity, on the other side, walks towards the admin, a small, proud smile plastered in his expression. (With each step the other gives, Dream feels the underwhelming need to run away and hide. He can hear nothing but the steps and static, and for a minute, he forgets what breathing is. All of his confidence has been yeeted out of the window, and his legs are jelly.)

“Dream,” Quackity voice hits him in the face almost literally, thanks to the proximity, making him turn to the younger male like a deer who’s just been spooked by a hunter. “Go up.”

He doesn’t respond, instead focusing in straightening to look taller, (not that is hard doing that with Quackity, but…)

“It’s not a question, Dreamy. You’re gonna go up, or–”

“Or what?” He growls at the smaller man.

“Or I’m going to fucking kill you and your friends next.” The other man says, pointing his weapon to Wilbur.

That sounds so fucking wrong coming from such a young Quackity. Coming from someone who was supposed to be fun, and chill, and somewhat silly. Did something happen? Why was Quackity so… relentless? Dream hisses when the other man in front of him slams the back of his crossbow into his stomach with all his strength, sending the Admin to the ground. A hand forcefully grabs him by the back of his hoddie, dragging him, while he clumsily stands up, trying to follow, stumbling all way to the top, where Schlatt and Tubbo wait patiently.

(It’s humiliating. He feels like a pet on a leash being dragged to display.

It’s not the first time, but it still hurts his pride.)

He’s finally dropped once he’s in front of Tubbo.
(There’s noise in the back. Most likely the ones in the benches complaining about what’s happening, angry. He knows that at least Sapnap is cussing out Schlatt for treating Dream like this, and George is probably just as angry. He can’t hear the rest, but he catches a couple of voices angry on his behalf).

“Well, that took a little more than planned, but that’s fine. We’re here to send a message, real quick”.

Dream looks up.
Quackity stands to his right, looking with at him, lack of interest but some excitement at what’s about to happen. Schlatt is in the other side, smiling, proud of his plan and how everything has elapsed up until now. Tubbo is looking at him, terrified and nervous expression.

(In a different timeline, the one in front of Tubbo would now be Techno.
In a different timeline, Dream saw this expression a lot of time after this day, and this festival; during a confrontation over fucking disks, and just before his plan was completed and he got stuck in a glorified obsidian box.

This was not another timeline.)

“Stand up, Dream.”

He follows the instructions, not because he gives a fuck about Schlatt and his ideas, but because staying on the ground would be weak, and that’s something he cannot continue to display right now.

“Now, I’m aware that you and those stupid little rebels know that I’ve set a lot of TNT under Manberg. TNT that you got me, by the way,” The man points out, innocently smiling during his speech. “I also know that your friends have been searching for the place where the button to activate it is. Sadly, for you, only Quackity and I know.”

Of fucking course.

“This is how this is gonna go: right now, you, Dream, are gonna shoot and kill Tubbo.” the kid (and almost everyone in the place) gasps sharply, muttering apologies and begging not to kill him. “That way, you’ll be forgiven from your treachery, and you’ll live in Manberg and you’ll become my right hand man, replacing the kid, never to leave my fucking side again unless you want all this to repeat itself.”

Dream scoffs.
“And if I just kill you instead?”

“Well, for starters, Fundy and Jack will kill Tommy and Wilbur, and then I’ll just respawn in the room where the button is at. And I will explode everything.”

“Also, I’ll blow up this entire place and everyone in it.” Quackity proudly pitches in.

Schlatt rolls his eyes, nodding. “And Quackity will blow you all up.”

Dream gives a step back, frowning at the two man and the minor in front of him. Thanks to the mask, his expression is hidden, but his body speaks a lot more than he usually lets on.

“You fucking bitch! Let Tubbo go, you cowards!”

“Shut up, Tommy!” Quackity angrily spits at the kid, making a sign to Jack, who answers by tensing even more the bow pointed directly at Tommy.

“So? What is it gonna be, Dream? Are you gonna give everything up, everything you’ve worked on for a kid? a dumb kid that got you discovered?”

He looked down to Tubbo, who was just looking at him with fear.

(The same eyes, the same face. Dream could’ve easily confused the current situation for the disc confrontation, when he asked Tommy and Tubbo to go alone to him, to fight them, waiting for Punz and the rest to arrive).

Slowly, he turns back, looking at everyone. Most are already standing, position ready to fight or run. Sapnap is close to the front, a sword in his hand, stopped directly by Fundy who’s holding the same bow than before, weakness smeared in the tip of the arrow that was currently ready to be shot at the blaze hybrid.

If he pays special attention, he can see George hidden behind a small tent, holding his own bow, pointed towards Fundy, who was unaware of the threat.

Tommy has a sword, too, and is now standing right next to Wilbur, no trace of doubt in his face, but a little fear creeping in his frown.

Techno looks eerily calm, as if nothing can bother him. Dream can only try to guess what it is that’s going through the piglin’s head, the lack of intention to stand from his place to help, not a single weapon being held by the holder of the blood god’s title. Does he care that little about the people that surround him, or is it just that he’s confident that everything is going to go just fine? No one can truly know.

“Now, Dream. What is it going to be? Are you going to follow me? Or are you going to be a weak bitch and let everything fucking burn?”

Quackity sets a hand in his shoulder, in an attempt at pressuring that actually works.
He yanks it off quickly, a reaction that would have everyone thinking that a spider just fell on his shoulder, and the other man seems amused by his reaction.

“Tik tok, Dream. If you don’t react now, I’m blasting everyone.”

Grinding his teeth, the admin curses, the pressure building up to his head, a small headache starting to form in the back of it. A ringing noise echoes in the background, although he’s sure that it’s just in his brain. Lights become blurred, and it almost feels like he’s seeing a movie. Maybe he is; like that time he saw a projection of Treasure Planet with Fundy in the original timeline, observing everything happen from the outside. He can, somewhere in the distance, hear a small clock ticking.
Is it the one in the prison? Is he still there?
Is all of this just an hallucination created by him to find redemption that he wasn’t entitled to?

A voice half-dragged him back to reality; Techno’s voice.

“Uh, hey, guys, not to interrupt this, really intense, uh… dramatic moment, but. Do you guys know who my best friend is? Like, my best friend in the whole world? He’s also like, our dad but I’m actively choosing to ignore that because, yeah, but.”

Confusion. No one really answers at the mood breaking question that the hybrid throws up at the air.

“Come on, guys. Don’t leave me hanging. Can you, like, try to guess or something?”

This time, Tommy tries to reply.
“Philza? Philza Minecraft? Bravest man in the universe?”

“Yeah, yeah. That one.”

“I mean. Yeah. Why?”

“Well, I kinda invited him some time ago, and he’s finally free to come.”

Something clicks in his head. Snapping out of the daze-like state he was, he turns to look at Techno, who is smiling widely. Oh, that son of–
Dream sighs in relief.

“And he’s not happy that you’re threatening his family.”

From the top of the podium, a figure falls right on top of Jack Manifold, gigantic wings covering the form of the angel of death, who quickly manhandles poor Jack, immobilizing him. With this opportunity, Wilbur jumps to Fundy, slamming him, making the fox hybrid lose his weapon, to which Sapnap reacts by running and helps to stop him.
At the same time this all happens, Techno shoots an arrow to Quackity, grappling it on the man’s suit, forcing him to drop the crossbow and trapping him against a wall while he himself climbed to the top, as Dream swiped the ground under Schlatt, tripping the man and rising once more, the crossbow that George had given him before in his hands, a silent threat to the man under him, who looked at him unimpressed.

“It’s over, Schlatt.”

The man bored face slowly turns into an amused one.

“Oh, is that what you think?”

Without lifting his weapon from its position, he gives a pearl to Tubbo, who weakly grabs it and throws it far away, by Tommy’s side.

(It’s cute to see them reuniting. Both hug, and Tommy is checking on the other boy for injuries, relaxing when he finds none.)

“Not to be a party-pooper but it kind of is.” Techno agrees. “You’re in a bit of a spot.”

“Ha!” The ram hybrid crackles. “hahaha! This is hilarious!”

Dream wondered if Schlatt would shut up if he kicked him in the stomach.
He decided to contain himself, just for the sake of not being an asshole.

“Think this is how it ends? Think you just throw me in the ground, defeat me, and that’s it? You guys are so stupid!”

Quackity takes out the arrow, placing TNT on the roof and instantly lighting it up. Techno’s first instinct is to cover himself, and Dream does the same, taking a shield out to stop the impact from the explosion to reach him and Schlatt.

With this window of opportunity, Quackity drags himself towards the back of the presidential chair where Tubbo was jailed just a couple of minutes ago, and a lever goes down in his hand. Quackity smiles at him, like he said the most hilarious of jokes and the smaller man didn’t find it as funny, so instead of laughing at the joke he was laughing at Dream for being an idiot.
The sound of TNT hissing under them is faint, but he recognizes it. A weird feeling creeps up his back, similar to the one he just had about watching everything like a movie, except that this time, he can literally see himself. If his eyes focus on his own body, he can even see the trail when the other He separates.

The other rises his voice, screaming; “He lit up the TNT! Run!”, while he launches himself against the business man that just lowered the lever. The necklace hidden in his shirt feels cold.

The one that runs towards the rest of the people in the festival reaches up to Schlatt, dragging the hybrid who’s laughing like a mad man. The necklace hidden in his shirt feels warm.

A sharp pain blooms in the pit of his stomach, making him grit his teeth and gasp, trying not to make a sound. He is well aware that Quackity just stabbed him with something, and it doesn’t feel like a usual sword. Dream curses when the other man twists the weapon, as the warm liquid that’s supposed to stay inside of his body starting to leak, staining both men in crimson. Even in this situation, the admin focuses on materializing a water bucket out of his inventory, surrounding them both with another liquid, one which makes the blood flow quicker, the new element dragging a pinkish color in its flow.

“Sorry, man! Should’ve chosen our side when you could!”

He gapes, ready to speak, only to cough up blood, the crimson falling in Quackity’s face, decorating the mocking expression in a far too similar way.

He screams; “Quackity lit up TNT! Run!”. It’s easy manhandling Schlatt, who’s still laughing without a care in the world, so he ends up carrying the man on one of his shoulders, jumping to the water of the small fountains to the side of the podium. On the side, he can see how Philza carries Tommy and Tubbo, Wilbur following behind, sparing a glance at Fundy before running away from the place.
Techno click his tongue hard enough that it sounds all over the podium, jumping away to the other direction, not before setting water in the place, trying to minimize the damage. Everyone in the benches, including the other two members of the Dream Team, all scatter around the place, getting ready water buckets and throwing away ender pearls to escape death by explosion.

The sound of explosions going off it’s not enough to startle him out of the daze he’s in, attempting to remain conscious, focus mostly set on the blade impregnated with some potion, (weakness, probably, by the bitter smell; and one made to last, if the ephemeral shimmer of redstone particles in the pink water is a clue of anything).
He hears Quackity bark a laugh. The wood under them is now gone. The water helped in not getting lunched away, but not he’s stuck in stone, debris and pain, the vice president crouching at his side wearing a triumphal smirk.

“I gave you the chance. To be honest, and with the reaction you had before, I was hoping that you would just listen and comply, but… this is way more fun!”

He tries to stand up, but barely is able to sit, arms trembling under all the weight and exhaustion.

“Even in the worst of situations, you still can’t just shut up and follow instructions. I’ll give you that, Dream.”

Moans of pain escape him as the other man fully stands and, slowly, start pushing the blade in his stomach with his foot. The admin pants, a realization that bile and blood are both rising and threatening to make their way out of the body by any means necessary.

“Still, it’s a shame. Look at you! Should’ve brought armor today. Big, almighty Dream, dying at my feet. Would be different if you had listened to me. I would’ve helped you!”

Weakly, he turns his head away, lifting his mask a little, and spiting some of the gross combination that formed in his throat.
“I will never fucking do what you want, Quackity. Never.”

He pushes Schlatt towards the water, following just in time for the TNT to detonate, filling both of his ears with a ringing noise, debris flying everywhere. It follows the path from the podium to the rest of the festival, explosion after explosion rapidly destroying the place. Dream feels his chest burning, so he drags Schlatt out of the small fountain to recover some oxygen, gasping for the so precious air, finally looking at the new crater. The Ram hybrid pushes both the water around them and the admin, who lets him go thanks to the sudden movement.

“Dream!” he hears George voice, and it sounds really far away.

“You bitch!” Tommy screams, at the top of his lungs, jumping down from the roof once more although this time in his own accord, brushing Philza away as he angrily steps his way to Schlatt. “You fucking– you almost kill us all, you crazy bastard!”

“Tommy–” He tries saying as the minor grabs the current president of Manberg by the tie. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to get near him right now.”

Phil agrees, jumping right next to the blond boy. “Mate, listen to Dream.”

All this time, they can only hear the explosions going off and the crazy man laughing his guts out.

“Well. That’s too bad.”

With that, the other man lifts almost all of his weight and suddenly steps fully on the blade. This time, Dream does scream, even if he himself cuts the sound off with a curse.

“Fucking–!” He bites the tongue in an attempt to focus on the new pain, trying to ignore the coppery taste in his mouth, succeeding in neither. “Why?” He whines out, “Why choose Schlatt after everything he fucking did?”

A grim expression paints Quackity face as the man crouches down once more, face so close that Dream can feel his breath on the parts of his face that the mask doesn’t cover.

“Schlatt is my partner. Why would I choose anyone over him?”

“Because he… he is hurting you!”

The other man scoffs. “What about it? That’s how we do stuff.”

“Quackity, you can’t– You… You shouldn’t t… take this! It… It can be different– We still can–”

“Yeah, yeah,” the last, finishing kick in the stomach. “Save it.”
He screams. Far away, a lot of voices call for him, desperate, but he’s too far gone to really listen to what they’re saying apart from his name. Everything goes black, a sense of finality filling him.

The kid punched the man in the face, who only stumbled a couple of steps, stopping midway to look back, bloody smile plastered in his face.

“The fuck is wrong with you, you goat bastard?!”

“Mate–, don’t get to close.”

“Tommy,” Wilbur says, frowning, and following the minor up close. “Listen to Phil.”

Schlatt laughed once more. “Yeah, Tommy. Listen to Phil!” He repeated. “You might get hurt otherwise!’

Just a movement. Dream and Phil notice immediately, how something comes out of Schlatt pocket, sliding in his hand as the man lifted it, pushing it towards the minor.
It’s a reaction, really. Philza is too far away to really do something, having stayed steps behind, so it makes sense that Dream is the first to move and push Tommy out of the way.

“H-hey!”

It’s a trap. He realizes it too late, when the direction changes last second. He doesn’t get to hear Tommy complain, because the teen falls silent when he sees the scene unfolding.
Even with the last TNT’s exploding in the distance, everything is silent when Dream gurgles out an unidentifiably noise, no chance to speak as the blade is pushed in his neck, painfully severing everything in the inside. He can feel the tip coming out from the other side, air brushing and cooling the crimson that comes out of both openings. He tries to talk, but blood comes instead of words.

“Dream!”

“H-Holy shit–!”

“You fuck!”

He tries to breath, but no air comes, and he doesn’t know if he is gonna drown in blood, or if the injury is going to do it.

“Does anyone have a gapple? Regen? Anything!”

Dream falls back. Black spots swim in his vision, and in between blurry flashes, he can see someone punching Schlatt once again, knocking the hybrid out. Someone catches the admin, sitting him softly, but he’s far too week to stand in any way, so instead of sitting is more like he’s dropping all his weight against whoever broke his fall.

“Dream! Dream! Come on!”

“Really? No one has a fucking potion right now?!”

“Dream, can you hear me? Can you breathe?”

“Big man, come on!”

“Hey–! Don’t… Don’t close your eyes!”

“Don’t! Don’t fall asleep, you can’t fall asleep now!”

“Just a…!”

“Can… stop the…!”

“Dre…?”

“…gonna be…!”

“…m?”

A sense of finality fills him as he closes his eyes, letting darkness drag him into the void.

Chapter Text

The Tommy and Wilbur in front of him are definitely not the ones from the new timeline; that much he can tell.

Maybe is the blue staining the pale hands of Wilbur, who has a white strike in his hair, a hole in the chest and glasses in his face and an expression that of a man who has seen and regrets lots of things.

Maybe is the gray, dry vines that clutch to the limbs of that Tommy, and the crimson that drips like tears out of his eyes, a hole in his chest (too), dirty clothes and attire that of a soldier instead of a young adult, as he was.

It definitely is the unamused face that both wear when they see him.

“Oh. You died already? Damn. I was honestly expecting you sooner, green bastard.”

Dream opens his mouth to speak, finding that it still haven’t regenerated.
He feels weak, and light. It’s like something is escaping from him, and he knows that something is. If he takes off the long gloved sleeve that he uses, the blood vessels that resemble roots of a plant will slowly be disappearing, a silent display of his failure as a seal.

“Be fair, Tommy. He did last a while, considering his specialty in making people angry.”

“True,” Tommy’s ghost mutter, shrugging. “That I’m really surprised for. Anyone would have thought that this green bitch would get stabbed first appearance he made around the server, but look! Months passed by and you’re losing your first live only now.”

“Now that’s something worth celebrating.”

Dream closes his eyes. He’s well aware that the mask he usually wears is nowhere to be seen, and so the brothers are looking at his expression right here, right now. To be honest, he can’t care enough.
Part of him can feel the tremblors that TNT is causing in his land, and the void informs him that once the time break converged, Quackity followed his steps and died just to re-appear on the room where the button was. (It’s mocking him, more than informing him, because he can see from afar the flicker of Quackity’s ghost, appearing and disappearing, his passing through the void a mere second in comparison to Dream’s).
He can tell that, while he is gone, L’manburg is being blown to smithereens.

He failed on that, too.

“Wow.” He turned to the Tommy, who spoke. “Who would’ve thought. It only took a year in prison and some years in hiding to transform the monster into a person again!”

He winces.

“You actually care about us now! That’s some shit. Like, I really wanted to kill you that time, but it seems that whatever went down on the prison and after my death, it really did a work on you!”

“Tommy, be nice.”

The young adult scoffs. “Fuck off, Wilbur. Like you can tell me anything about being nice.”

The other man rolled his own eyes.
“Just stop being a little shit.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
Tommy turns once again to Dream. The young ghost does not get near Dream, and he can guess that even after what they went through together at the raid, the other still doesn’t trust him. He doesn’t blame Tommy, not at all.
“Well, Dream. You did it. Last chance to fix everything, better not fuck everything up again, asshole.”

Dream nods. There’s not a lot that he can do, or say.
His throat feels complete again, but all he manages to do is say a small ‘sorry’ that sounds like gibberish.

The ghost of Tommy rolls his eyes, (or it looks like he does by the small movements in his face).

“Fuck off. I don’t give a fuck how bad you feel. Like I’m ever accepting your sorry excuse of an apology after what you did.”

He looks at the… ground? are they floating in the void? Are they lingering in a limbo? There’s not an answer, and that’s not important. He just focuses on directing his eyes to any side where Tommy isn’t standing– floating?

“Just…” The younger speaks once again; his voice is softer, hurt. It’s almost a whisper, and when Dream looks back, the other is staring away. “You can do it. You have to. It’s your responsibility. Don’t fuck it up this time, bitch.”

The blond young man isn’t exactly looking at him, but with the lack of a voice, Dream’s only reaction is to nod again. It’s likely that Tommy saw that in the corner of his eye, because huffing, the other one turns around giving a couple of steps away.
Wilbur, on the contrary, gets near the admin.

“You ready to go back? The egg is free now. You’re gonna have to deal with a lot of shit.”

Dream sends him a look that says everything he feels, (’I already dealt with a lot of shit, Wilbur.’ Is what the silent stare expresses), and he can’t help but feel somewhat offended when Wilbur laughs with all of his strength. He can even see Tommy half turning to show an annoyed face directed at his older, more dead brother.

“You’re right. I did a ton of stuff, huh?  And hey, can’t say I regret it.” Dream jumps slightly when Wilbur sets a cold hand in his shoulder. “But for what it’s worth, I am sorry I put you through all that shit. Mostly because I dragged Tommy and tossed him at you, and you kinda fucked him up. But y’know. Still sorry.”

He pushes the hand away, frustrated, not really wanting to forgive the other man.
(He does try to forgive him, anyways. But only because of the Wilbur that’s still alive, in the new timeline, helping to fix things just as much as Dream is. He doesn’t want to fuck his new friendship with the man).

Dead Wilbur lifts his hands in mock surrender, a small enigmatic small set on his face. “Relax.”

He glares at the man, before relaxing a little.

“Hey. Regeneration is done. Looks like you’re ready to go back.”

Dream looks down. The clothes over his body covers any injuries and scars, but he can feel the discomfort that comes with a death injury. There’s a minor one in his stomach, and the one that came to be the official cause of his death in his neck. (Usually, he would also feel the blood moving around, searching for an exit. It always happens when he has to respawn for normal deaths. It tries to escape its prison, tries to separate from his soul. It’s an impossible feat; such deaths are not enough to break the link. A couple of seconds before respawning is far too little time for the egg to escape.

Now, a canon death, that takes its time in regenerating both body and soul… That is enough time for such link to break.
And he knows that as long as he is in the void, it won’t hurt, because there’s no body to suffer the consequences. But the moment he’s back… It’s going to be a fucking bitch of a pain).

“Well, good luck then, Dream. Seems like you’re gonna need it.”

“Don’t come back soon. I didn’t give up my fucking live for you to be a pussy and die so quick to that thing.”

He smiles sheepishly at Tommy, who doesn’t return the gesture, glaring in response.

“I’m serious, bitch. This is the last time. Endgame. If you mess everything up, if you fail, if the egg wins, this time there’ll be no second chances. The egg is upping its game. The fucker knows what Karl did, and you’re not going to enjoy this shit.”

Wilbur looks uninterested. Bored even. Perhaps a little amusement at Dream’s horrified expression. Tommy continues to speak.

“I hate you. Hate you with my entire fucking soul.” The young adult admitted, pausing a second before continuing in a calmer voice. “But you’re our only chance at finally fucking resting. So… don’t fuck this up.”

This time, the brown haired man seems to remember something, and so he turns to Dream with the intention to say that something; and it’s important, if the sole act of remembering is enough to make the mad man panic like that.

“Hey, you might want to check on–”

_________________________________________

“Dream!”

He gasps, desperate for air. His body sprang into action, rising quickly into a sitting position.

Which proved to be a stupid ass decision the moment everything started to fucking hurt like hell. Literally everything, unholy hell.

Someone holds him, but the touch feels like needles stabbing him, and the rest of his entire existence seemed to be on fire. So he did the only reasonable thing to do in such state, and he screamed. Was he burning to death in the hot lava that surrounded his cell? Was Quackity trying some new method? Or was his forgotten butcherer from the eggpire the one to try luck with something else to break him? Was he back in time, to some life he had left behind?

“Dream! Listen to me!”

“Come on!”

“Please, Dream! You’re scaring us!”

He was sure of one thing, and that was the fact that the nails digging in his arms where his. The cloth did enough, stopping him from actually breaking the skin and drawing blood, but that didn’t do anything for him to stop the pain.
The sound of ongoing explosions caught his attention, but only a second before another wave of pain hit him.

“What the fuck is happening to him?!”

“I don’t know! This isn’t supposed to happen after a canon death!”

“Could it be that weird weapon Schlatt used?”

“It might be but– we can’t be sure.”

“Can’t you do something?!”

“No! There’s no potion that can calm down the pain, and neither healing or regeneration will work because he’s not injured.”

“Shit, Fuck. Fucking–”

“Language!”

“We have to go help soon, Quackity spawned a third wither and they need the support.”

“Technoblade and Philza are dealing with one, everyone is dealing with the other two–”

“I’m going to fucking kill Quackity–”

“Language! Dream can you hear me?”

A third wave hits, but already getting used to the pain, he bites down the next scream that tries to rip from his mouth, letting instead a strangled noise and heavy panting. Considering the itching that comes from his throat, it probably would’ve been more painful to scream.

Welp.

“I don’t think he can answer.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

“Guys, they really need support–”

“Well then go support them! I’m staying with Dream. I don’t give a fuck about Manberg anyways.”

“George–”

“That’s my final answer. Sapnap is already there, what more do you want?”

“Bad?”

“I’m sorry, Eret, but right now Dream needs my help more. I’m not super good at fighting, anyways.”

“I… It’s okey. Sorry for intruding.”

George grumbles something out, before focusing back on trying to calm Dream.
Bad smiled at the monarch in an apologetic way.

“It’s fine. I know you’re only worried. I’ll go help as soon as Dream’s stable, okey?”

“Yeah– yes. Thanks. Do tell me if Dream gets better, I’m also worried.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” George jabbed a comment, frustrated.

“George!” Bad scolded. “Sorry, Eret. He doesn’t mean it, he’s just–”

“No, no. I understand. See you later. Take care.”

He’s not sure if the need to puke comes from what happened before he died, or what happened after, but nevertheless he pushes George away as the sound of a door closing echoes in the room, inclining himself over the edge of the bed. Bad barely catches up to what’s happening, putting a bucket on the way as he throws up.
There’s blood mixed up with the vomit, and he can feel himself heaving in preparation for a second round. Now he notices that his mask is not in place. It is in his face, but it covers only from the bridge of his nose, up.

Oh, and yeah, he’s kinda puking and in terrible fucking pain. Guess not really the time to focus on how much the mask is covering. What an idiot.

One of his friends is rubbing circles in his back, and at the moment the pain of physical contact has decreased, so now it only feels like someone is rubbing alcohol over an open wound, and he can… deal with that.
The fourth wave of pain is unexpected, but at this point he’s used to it, and the aching has lessened, so he just cringes slightly and groans in response to the strike that the broken seal does against him.

Fortunately, he doesn’t puke again, and that in itself is a blessing because his throat is as sore as if he had eaten a cactus. The pain is so raw, that he has to wonder for a second or two if he actually did.
He decides that maybe he’s not the smartest, but he wouldn’t eat a fucking cactus… unprompted. So no, that option is not possible.

His eyes vaguely wandered around the place, searching for something. There’s a distant ticking. If he were in a worse place mentally, he would’ve associated the sound with jail and, even worse, future Quackity. (Well, maybe even with present Quackity, considering the asshole’s answer at his attempt to help. What a bit–). Right now, however, he was conscious enough to logically think that there was a completely normal, non-threatening and totally nice clock that would help him time the expulsion of the egg from him. Finally, after a few minutes, he finds it, stuck in one of the walls, uncaringly continuing its work.

It was probably his imagination, but he could hear the noise increasing, from a distant sound to one that was pumping in his head, making him frown in discomfort.

The first expulsion was done. In around an hour, the second one will begin. Meanwhile, he has to help Man–

“Oh, no, you’re not going anywhere, mister!”

“Dream, if your foot touches the ground, I’m going to slam you with a chair until you fall asleep again.”

Or not. Probably not. Yeah, staying in the bed was probably for the best. He could help later.

Gulping, he tucked his foot back into the green sheets of his bed, slowly inching towards the wall.

“Thank you.”

Bad comments nothing, side-eyeing George with worry, who just seemed bored and annoyed, like Dream inconveniencing them by being in over excruciating pain. He knew better tho; George was like that. The older one had always been bad at expressing his feelings.

“Are you feeling better, Dream?”

He nodded, a tired smile in his face. “I’m exhausted.” His voice sounds raspy. It also hurts to speak. That’s probably because of the death scar that decorates his neck now.

Well, at least he could speak. Being unable to do so would be a pain in the ass. Fuck Schlatt though.

“Well, it doesn’t surprise me! Whatever that bug was, it seemed really painful!”

Oh. So they’re treating as a bug. That was okey. With the pain barely leaving his body and a tickling under his skin that promised more suffering soon, he didn’t really have the energy to think of an excuse for the show he just gave.

“I’m not gonna lie, it was. Really painful.”

The demon let out a soft ‘oh’, frowning, not knowing how to answer.

“I’m fine, tho. I probably should go check on Tubbo and the rest. Considering I can hear the TNT even here.”

“No. What you should do is rest.”

Pouting, he looked at George, a little frustrated.
“But I’m fine.”

“Dream, I don’t think you understand what just happened. But I want you to understand that those screams you just gave said everything but fine.”

“George–” He whined, just to be interrupted by the googled man.

“I said no. Now rest. We’ll be here until you’re better.”

There was no room for rebutting, and while Bad seemed apologetic, something tells Dream that he was not going to leave that room for a while. He sighs, frustrated, laying down, huffing a little at the remaining pain, the aching that traveled through his bones as he tried to accommodate himself in the bed.

As soon as he is back down, Bad stands up, taking the bucket with him as he leaves the room for unknown reasons, (likely to wash the poor item and rest a few minutes). George, on the other side, takes a sit in the chair that had been used as a threat a few minutes earlier, crossing his arms and lowering his head, never looking at Dream.

The admin can see that his friend’s hands are trembling. It might have gone unnoticed for almost any other person, but Dream was observant (he had to be), especially towards his friends.

“George?” He winced slightly, hearing his voice crack. “Are you okey?”

The other man scoffed, clearly offended by his question. “Am I okey? Dream, do you know what just happened?”

He blinked. Recounting the events that happened, he had died, and respawned.
Maybe George was still mad about Quackity, (knowing him, he probably was), but that already happened. And sure, Dream wasn’t happy that the duck business man had stabbed him, but as far as he knew, the canon had marked that his death was thanks to Schlatt.

What had happened in the end? He wasn’t sure how the time break had ended. He didn’t know what the rest had seen.

“I died?”

Now, if looks could kill, he would already be in his last life.

“You died? You–! I–!” The other man covered his face with his hands, lifting the googles in a silly way, making it seem like he was a kid throwing a tantrum instead of a grown man considering murder. “You idiot!”

Dream totally didn’t jump when George slammed his hands on his own lap. If you say otherwise, you’re a liar and completely jealous of his ability to stay calm on the direst situations.

“Schlatt stabbed you! In the neck! Holy– He’s lucky that Philza had the common sense to stop us all, because everyone almost kills him! If he’s not fucking dead right now is because I wasn’t about to shoot Philza so close to Technoblade!”

Was George always this aggressive? Og George spent most of his days away after the first war uninterested on the drama that the mainland had. And he… didn’t really remember a lot of the first war. (He should, shouldn’t he? It was some time ago, but he remembered everything before the war started. His past lives, the revival of the server… and yet, everything that happened during the war was blurry, the memories like he had tried to record them with the worst of cameras. He should worry about that, probably). Nevertheless, what little he did remember, was George mostly bored and just following orders, laughing at the misery of the L’manburg rebels but not really caring about the confrontations other than having fun at the expense of the losers.

“And then you re-appear, screaming in pain, puking blood! But you’re fine!? That’s bullshit!”

Dream looked away, ashamed.

“You said you would talk to us! We were there. We want to help you. But you keep pushing us away and doing everything on your own. How can we help if you do this?”

The question ended with a far softer tone that the one the googled man had been using, his desperation clear.

He opened his mouth to speak, but George cut him off. “I don’t want you to keep apologizing, Dream. I want you to talk to me. Please.”

Sighing in defeat, Dream nods.

“But– Bad–”

George was quick, taking out his communicator, fingers tapping the letters in the keyboard at great speed; the answer came soon, a ping coming from the machine.

“He’ll go support Eret and the rest. Says he wants to find Skeppy anyways, and he’ll be back in an hour or so.”

Dream nodded.

“I’ll tell you. About Quackity. Is that fine?”

The other man doesn’t seem happy, but nods in agreement.
“I guess that’s a start.”

“But–” he lifts a finger in warning. “You can’t tell Karl. Or Sapnap. You gotta promise.”

George rolled his eyes, (he couldn’t see, but there were little things that he recognized in his expression, so Dream knew) but still nodded.

Then, Dream started speaking.

The story is long. When he talked about the egg, or about the other line, he went over general details; the overlay of his story. This time it was different. He started with the conditions of the vault, and what happened between him and Tommy, (and the poor cat that ended in the middle of their squabble…). He has to close his eyes when he talks about Sam, and he opens them again, trying not to see anything in his mind when he speaks about Quackity, and everything the man told him about his deal with the warden.

Then, he goes into the torture bits.
It’s gruesome. He jumps over some parts, wincing silently at the memories, playing with his hands that soon becomes rubbing them with a lot of strength as to keep the anxiety at bay.
George has no reaction, besides the trembling of his arms that he so tries to ignore, but can’t. Dream can hear him gasp when he mentions the ‘tools’ that Quackity used, or the forced healing. The raw potatoes that were forced into his throat when he tried to have a canon death by starving, or the days that he was slowly pushed into the lava, screaming and sobbing as Quackity stared down in boredom. Drowning, or dehydrating. Alcohol rubbed into his skin with a sponge until there was no more skin, and the pet names that the younger man used on him. Literal pet names.

If he skips some details, the gorier ones, the ones that sometimes wake him up, (the ones that barely reached the same amount of cruelty as his tormentor during the eggpire ruling), George doesn’t know.

When his story is over, he looks at George.
His face is devoid of emotion, but Dream knows better. He can see the horror, the fury, the desperation. He sighs.

“That’s why I want to help him. I don’t know what Schlatt did to him, but I do know that Quackity wasn’t like that. I saw him. He’s a nice person– He’s just… hurt.”

There was a pause, that felt more like a million years of pure judgment concealed in George expression.

“He hurt you. He hurt everyone.”

“And he is also hurting.”

Once more, George scoffed. “He hurt you Dream! You said you went to prison for a ton of shit, but he literally tortured you! If he went as far as that, he’s always had something wrong with him. I don’t think he deserves a second chance!”

Even with the mask on, his expression must have let on how hurt he felt at George’s refusal, because the other man immediately stopped speaking.

“I don’t… it’s different.” George mutters. “You’re different.”

“Is it? No one seemed to think so.”

“Dream,” George mumbled, somewhat annoyed, but mostly hurt. “You and him are not the same.”

“How would you know? You weren’t there.”

The lips of the other man pressed into a thin line.

“You heard what I did. I’m no angel.”

“But you would never do that to a person!”

“I hurt Tommy.”

“Did you beat him into a bloody pulp? Did you used building tools to completely break him?”

“I did! Not with tools, of course, and I didn’t mean to that far, but i snapped and did!”

“You snapped! It wasn’t completely your fault! You weren’t in your right mind!”

“But I still hurt him! Both before the prison and after! You didn’t see him, George! He– He tried to jump into lava. He cried, and– And I just kept hurting him! pushing him! I bombed his things, I threatened him and Tubbo! I… I thought he did jump… I killed him.”

Silence. A hair falling in the ground would be hearable in the room, and Dream doesn’t want to. He knows George is trying to separate their actions because he is his friend and Quackity isn’t right now, but he doesn’t want to be excused. He doesn’t deserve forgiveness. Everything that happened to him was karma for his actions, deserved from the cell he was isolated at to the days of torture that Quackity and the eggpire made him go through. George decides to break the silence first.

“You can’t compare that with torture.”

“I did so much shit, George. It wasn’t physical most of the time but I still hurt them.”

“And you’re not a good person for that. But you didn’t deserve torture–”

“Then what do I deserve?”

“There are better–”

“What do I deserve, George?”

“Something–”

“What?”

“Not that–”

“Then what?!” His voice cracks painfully at the pressure he applies to scream. A pathetic sob and hiccup escapes him.

“I don’t know!” George snaps back, clearly hurt.

Both of them are panting and red-faced, heated up over the discussion.

“But not that. I don’t know, but never that, Dream.”

He turns his back on George, not wanting to look him. Both unfiltered fury and overwhelming anxiety hammering in his chest, threatening to jump out of his chest. (The clock warns him with ticking that his time is almost up, and that pain is about to assault him again. Somehow, he thinks that all that horrifying pain would be better than having this conversation).

“Dream–” The other suddenly stops, sighing. “I do think that what you did wasn’t good, and it deserved a punishment. But that– it was inhumane. No person should go through that”

He laughs. A bitter, depressing sound that escapes him. He refrains from speaking his thoughts (’I’m not a person’), and continues to evade George’s face.

“But you did. You went through that, and then… that, egg thing, and… instead of hurting people even more, you helped. You want to help. You’re trying. I think you are better now. I know you are.”

“Am I? I… It doesn’t feel like it.”

He hears sighing once more, and a hand settles in his shoulder. He lets himself be half dragged towards his friend, who looks at him with some shame and regret. The hand in his shoulder and the other slowly rise towards his face, grabbing him softly, as if he’d break if he wasn’t careful.

“You’re better, Dream.”

His eyes are warm, and there’s something falling from them. George doesn’t mention it, but he does wipe the liquid with his fingers.

“You are better. You can keep being better.”

He doesn’t quite believe that, but he wants to. He really does. His own hand reaches for George’s, and the other man accepts the contact.

“There’s something more bothering you,” George mutters. “Will you talk about it?”

Dream sobs, frustrated that his friend can recognize that so easily, but thankful that he doesn’t need to hide it.

“I was the seal, George. For the egg.”

George freezes at the response, and Dream, knowing that if he stops now, he won’t talk again about this, continues.

“I was the seal, and Schlatt killed me, and now it’s broken.”

The ticking in the background accelerates, (not really), and Dream knows what’s coming before the first wave hits.

“It’s broken. And It is escaping. It’s taking its time and it’s gonna hurt every time it continues escaping. George, it’s free.”

He can feel the hesitance in George trembling hands. The fear that his story imposed in the older man clear in the contained breath.

“The egg is free, George.” he sobs.

And as the first noise that came from him dies down, a new one arises in the form of a scream, ripping out of his lungs as the second expulsion began.

Chapter Text

Endermen weren’t exactly friends of his. They evaded him as they did everyone, no especial treatment if they caught him looking at their eyes, and generally keeping their distance if teleporting away wasn’t an option.

But there is one thing that can get their attention, and that is his ability to both understand and speak their language.

Of course, it’s not all the time. Most of the end residents cared little about his little quirk; some would even attack him if he tried to communicate with them, annoyed at his intrusion. But in some cases, the endermen would look at him, decide that he’s not a threat, and ask him what it is that he wants with them.

Usually he strives for a random conversation; the knowledge of a creature that lives for so long, and travels far more through dimensions was meant to be a lot more than his.
They told him stories of their travels, and the things they found; about their favorite foods, their customs, and traditions, hopes and dreams. The meaning of family for them, and the meaning of being a traveler.

Sometimes, they told him about the egg, and how it expanded on the nether. How they found its vines in a close cave, or how it tried to intrude their lands, failing in the attempt.

That’s too how he finds the sealing ritual.

He asks the usual, “tell me something interesting, please?”

They contemplate it for a second, before finally answering: “It spoke to me, once.”

Dream isn’t sure what that means, so of course he asks. “It?”

“The eye.” They reply, not a second after Dream. “It speaks, but not a lot. The last time I heard it speak, it was almost a thousand years ago, when it warned us about the nether. But I heard it, recently. It spoke to me about you, and a ritual. Although it didn’t told me you would be merely a child.”

The enderman pauses, laughing a little at Dream’s expression, (and hey, rude, can’t look back at you to laugh in retaliation. That’s unfair).

“It told me that I would find an overworld dweller that could speak to us, as if he belonged with our people, and that when I did, I should tell him about a seal for the netherborn bloom, that threatens us all.”

They muse, searching in their memory for that they have to say, before looking at Dream, who lowers his head more in a way meant to be respectful of the other’s creature needs.

“You seem excited.” The enderman stays silent for a seconds before continuing, something in their voice that makes Dream fear a little. “Just be aware, child, that the ritual asks for far more than just material objects.”

He hums, honestly disinterested in the warning.
“I know. It never expected me to survive.”

There is a whole minute of silence. It feels like more. It should be more. But both he an the enderman know that nothing they say or think is gonna change the outcome of this tragedy. That time, Dream thinks that his story is like one of those dramatics poems that speak of gods and heroes, that do something nice for the world, but are complete assholes, and end up dying because they were assholes, (or just because someone else hated them that much), and having to go through some stupid, dramatic shit as a punishment.

They interrupt his thoughts. “I think you will survive. I do not know what you are, of course. But you are no mere mortal. I think that if someone were to survive, It would be you.” They pause again, giving Dream a second to let the implication sink in. “I do not know if that is for the better. For something like that, maybe death would be more merciful.”

“Well, what other choice do I have?”

“Let someone else do it.”

Dream huffs, in disappointment at the answer, a sad smile peeking out of his mask. “I can’t do that. It’s my job.”

“Well… Then do a good job, child. Find something unbreakable. Indestructible. If you wish to be free, after the sealing, the nether bloom should never be free again.”

He nods, closing completely his eyes.

“It is not of my business. My apologies.”

“It’s fine. I appreciate the concern.”

The enderman’s eyes linger onto him for just a few more seconds, before looking away. (He can’t see, but he can feel the eyes burning into his skin).

“Well, then. I remember the list, as if it happened just a few minutes ago. First, you will need sun metal for the base, and light from the nether, and a stray ray of energy capable of healing, and the eye, and–”

____________________________________

The expulsion lasts two days.

He’s not actually aware of that, of course. He wakes up once an hour just to suffer through the painful process, instantly passing out afterwards because of… everything, really. As time passes by, is every two hours, every four, until he stays asleep. He knows that because Bad mentioned it, one of the times he was almost conscious. (It’s hard to think that once, he went through this alone. That last time, he had hidden himself away in a cave, disappearing a whole week to deal with this, and the aftermath).

When he does wake up, for real this time, is dazed and wanting to puke his insides out. He’s slightly aware that there are no more explosions as background music, and that his room is empty of people. Well, almost empty of people, but he’s almost sure that Karl is just his imagination.

A deep sigh comes out of his mouth, cursing in frustration as he rubes his temples, sitting up.

“Woah! hey, you’re pretty banged up. Take it easy.”

He flinches away from Karl’s hand, (pain pain pain pain pain, everything hurts please don’t touch me it hurts it–), instantly regretting it when the other makes a face of a kicked puppy, sighing once more and inching towards the wall to give Karl some space to sit. Karl does.

“Sorry, touch hurts a little.” He weakly croaks, slightly wincing at the state of his throat.

“It’s fine, I’m the one who’s sorry. I should’ve asked.”

He muses in response, not really interested.
“So, is this an hallucination? Is… Ranboo gonna enter anytime soon, and join us?”

There are a few seconds of silence between his question and Karl’s answer.

“Does… it… make you hallucinate?”

Oh. Well shit. That’s not something an hallucination would say. Did he just outted himself to Karl?

“It does,” he deflects. “Usually it’s just… It. You’d be new.”

Karl seems hurt. “Dream… and you went through all that? twice?”

He blinks.

“Karl?”

“Yeah?”

“No– dammit. Like. Future Karl?”

The other man finally realizes what he is trying to say, and smiles softly. “Yeah. Yes. It’s me, Dream. I’m here.”

After a long time, he feels relieved. Truly, and utterly relieved; like this is a prize for being a good boy, and it feels like that, actually. He sighs.

“Missed you, dude.”

“Well, I do have a Dream and Ranboo waiting for me right now, so I can’t say the same– but I’m glad I can be here for you!”

Even with the mask on, he let his expression talk for him, to which Karl made a goofy nervous face.

“And that was a little rude. Sorry!”

He shook his head, smiling slightly. Then remembered.
“The egg is free.”

Karl frowned, looking at the window. “I… I know.”

A sigh escapes him, dropping his shoulders on tune with his disappointment.

“I’m sorry. I promised– I tried. But I– I fell for Schlatt’s trap. And I died. I thought that I could just, not have a canon death but… Dammit, I was an idiot.”

He winced slightly at the same time Karl’s hand settled on his shoulder, and looked sheepishly at his friend, who smiled.

“I know that this can be fixed. It’s fine, Dream. Don’t be afraid.”

A small smile appears on his face in reply to Karl’s support.

“And I also saw that you told Sapnap and George, no?” A second of panic settles before the time traveler beams in excitement. “That’s good! Now you have more help! And with how things changed, I’m sure things will go better with them on your side!”

Relaxing, he hummed in agreement. “Yeah.” Once again, he smiled, this time a little more excited. “Yeah! You’re–”. He was interrupted by himself, coughing dryly.

His friend patted his back.

“You okey?”

“Mm-hm,” Dream answered. “The expelling is hard on the vessel. It would’ve broken almost any block, or object, so it’s not surprising that is so hard on the body of a human.”

“Not to be rude but that was a really dumb decision. Making yourself the vessel.”

Before answering, he inhaled sharply, attempting to let some oxygen in his lungs. “Yeah. I agree. At the time I thought I’d just leave the server and never come back, so it seemed smart.”

“Then why come back?”

Dream paused. It would probably sound rude, and bitter, but it was the truth. “I thought it would be peaceful. I wasn’t expecting anyone to break the rules, or start to threaten other people.”

To that, Karl didn’t answer.
Maybe he was annoyed that Dream was still stuck on the past, angry at Wilbur for starting all the shit that led to the moment of weakness when the Dreamon took control over the admin, breaking the link between him and the egg.
Maybe he just didn’t know how to answer at that.

Who knows?

(He doesn’t know. But he can’t help but fear that his only friend is tired of his shit, his constant complaining and obsession with the past. Someday Karl might abandon him and leave him just because he couldn’t shut the hell up about his problems, as if they were the most important thing in the world.

A big part of himself groans each time the fleeting though of peace before Tommy popped in his mind, frustrated with his whining. And if he himself was tired of that, why wouldn’t Karl be too?

Hope wasn’t something he dared to have, when refering to relationships.

He knew it, he knew. That he’s not meant to have anyone, that people will eventually abandon him. That he’s an annoying monster and everything he does is ruin things and hurt people.

Still, for a second, he finds the strength to ignore that little voice at the back of his head. Just this once).

“And?” The time traveler asked, staring at Dream with furrowed eyebrows. “What’s the plan now?”

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Dream took a second or two to answer.

“I need to rest. Last time I hid for a whole week, and after it still was really hard to act like I was okey. It hurt like a bitch. Then, I need to search around. I know that Bad found it last time, but I don’t know where, and how long it took to appear after the possession. I also need to pay attention to the nether.”

“The nether?”

He hesitated, but answered at the end.
“Before we left ourselves be captured, I went to the nether for some things, but it was… weird. As it was… abandoned? There were little to no mobs, the lava wasn’t really flowing.”

Karl instantly understood what he was saying.

“You think that it left the nether? Like, it had some kind of– kind of control over it and when it got the overworld, left the nether unattended?”

“Or at least something like that, yeah. They used to call it the ‘netherborn bloom’ or ‘the nether pest’, and it transforms normal blocks into nether blocks, so maybe it does have a connection?. I think I can kind of– of monitor it, keep tabs on its expansion. It’s a possibility at least.”

“Sounds good! And the sealing?”

Dream kept silent.

“Dream, so help me, if you do it on yourself again–”

“No! no. I’m not making the same mistakes.”

For the seal to contain, it has to keep going, and Dream is simply… not gonna do that; so making himself the seal again when he knows that, it’s just stupid. However, that is something that Karl doesn’t know, and he is clearly not gonna tell on his not at all safe nor sane plans, so he doesn’t.

“I think– I’m planning on trying to go creative. Or invoking something that has creative.”

That catches his friend’s attention.
“Going creative? That’s– That’s not easy. Why going to that extreme?”

“We need bedrock for the seal. Nothing else will do. We can’t let it escape, ever again.”

With that, both stay silent.
It’s clear that Karl agrees with his statement because the man says not a single word, and seems relieved that he has a plan. It is at a time like this that Dream can truly relax. Even if they were just talking about something so distressing, just the fact that Karl is fine and here, and that they can just kind of relax before the storm comes…

It is enough.

“I… Dream. What are you gonna do with Quackity?” Karl asks, his voice low.

Dream can’t help the frown that forms in his face, but once it is there, he waters it down for Karl’s sake.

“I… When we were in the festival, Quackity kind of… snapped. He threatened me. It felt like the prison all over again. I… I don’t know. I don’t want to ever see him again.”

The time traveler nods. There’s clear disappointment and anguish in his face, but he seems to accept his fiancé's destiny.

“I had to tell George. And George doesn’t like him either.” He bites his nails, before continuing. “But… I also know that it was Schlatt’s fault. I don’t know what happened between them, but Quackity was desperate. A lot more than the original timeline, and… I also want to help him.”

Hope shone in the eye of his old friend, who’s head sprang into movement, directing itself towards Dream.

“I won’t tell Sapnap about… the prison. What happened in it. And obviously I will let you have whatever relationship you want with him, I’m not going to stop you. I don’t like him but I’m not just gonna abandon him”

A pause followed.

“Are you going to make the prison again?”

He stopped breathing, only for a second, before shaking his head, frantic.

“No! No! never!”

The other man jumped at his sudden reaction, seemingly taken aback for a second, before hastily nodding.

Dream, ashamed, mutters a sorry, and explains.
“I want to do a rehabilitation center. I don’t want more stupid wars, more deaths. I just want things to be peaceful, and if I got this chance, I want them to have it too, no matter what they did before.”

Karl sat curled up one of his legs, humming a soft positive answer.
“I think that’s a great idea. And, that way you don’t have to interact with them either. You can focus on the egg and your own life without having to remember… that.”

Now, if Dream were any smarter, he would stay silent, nod at Karl’s excitement, and fall asleep, because his body was still getting used to the peace around it. No tempting fate, no saying stupid things like stopping a somewhat omniscient enemy that can and will control everything in the world for unknown and probably lame reasons like ‘power’ and stuff. Just accepting the hope that his friend has in him, and move on.

But as we all know, Dream isn’t any smarter than this, and so he makes the comment, and most likely jinxes everything, setting himself up for a hard, unforgiving path of more pain and loss and destruction, that could’ve been avoided by just staying silent.

“Without conflict, with Quackity and Schlatt in rehabilitation, things should go smooth. No more trouble. Just focusing on rebuilding, helping around and stopping the egg. It should be easy!”

But at least the idiot does fall asleep.

_________________________________

Sapnap and George are there when he wakes up once again.
Actually, Bad is there too, but Dream focuses on his two other friends at the moment because Bad is giving rounds on the community house while the other two check on him.

At first, he’s pretty sure it’s a dream. He’s half conscious, and everything feels like he’s floating, the first time in a whole week that he’s both awake and in no pain. It feels like a miracle. However, his dreams are either really edgy or really peaceful, so there’s no way the two assholes bickering at the side of his bed while he’s trying to recuperate are part of either of his experiences in the dream world.

“Guys.” He groans, extending the word, annoyed. “Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

That seems to work, because they go silent. He smiles, snuggling in the blanket and turning to his side so he can sleep comfier.
However, the life span of the solution is short. Really short. As soon as he’s happily shrunk into a little ball made by his own body, two sets of hands throw themselves on top of him, shaking him up like he was a pancake mix that needed to be done, or bread dough ready to be knead.

“Dream!” Sapnap exclaimed. “You’re awake!”

“Are you okey Dream?!”

He slaps their hands away, half sitting, sending them an (not really) angry glare.
“I was okey up until you started to waggle me. You guys realize that I’m still kinda injured, right?”

Both lifted their hands, instantly, regret in their expression.

“Sorry!!”, “I’m sorry I didn’t know–”

He copied their action, as a way to silence them, leaving his own hand up for a few second. Then, he proceeded to stretch, (ignoring the horrified face that his friends did when almost every bone in his body cracked), finally deciding to speak– except that Sapnap wins the round, asking first.

“Does it still hurt? How bad is it?”

“It’s fine. I’m better, just a little shook up. These days sucked tho. Zero out of five, would not recommend.”

While Sapnap chuckles at his amazing humor, George doesn’t seem so entertained, instantly glaring at him, to which he replies lifting his arms in mock surrender.

“I can’t believe I’m going to end up hoary so soon in my life. This is the worst. Dream is going to make me die of a heart attack at my 26, I’m calling it.”

“To be fair, you’re already the oldest, you know?”

“Sapnap, I will beat you with a stick.”

“Nuh huh! I’ll beat you first!”

“Guys, seriously, don’t start again.” Dream whined, pouting at his friends. “Can we just have a nice moment for like. Five minutes? I’m tired and as soon as I stand up I’ll have to go non-stop again.”

That seemed to catch their attention, and to ruin the mood too. Both of his friends had grim expressions, the weight of the situation joining along to his current status. He sighs, a little sad that it occurred the exact opposite of what he wanted, but in the end, it is kind of his job to fix all this; both of his teammates know about the situation, so it was only matter of time for the discussion to be had. Better now than ever.

“How much do you know, Pandas?”

“George filled me in. The egg is free, right?”

He glances at the older boy, who shook his head. (Sapnap doesn’t know about the seal. That’s good. He’s thankful).

“Yeah. It is free. Like I told you, we need to find the bloom before it settles and starts expanding. Have either of you seen the situation outside?”

Both ponder it for a minute, and with no answer, he decides to try and go for a different route.

“Okey, okey. So, how about this. What happened while I was out?”

To that, the response is immediate.
Sapnap is the one to fill him in with the general stuff. Schlatt and Quackity currently being held on the court room, Punz, Callahan and Ponk warding the place. Wilbur, Philza and Technoblade are negotiating a peace treaty between Technoblade, hater of governments, and New L’manburg, which is currently being rebuilt mostly by Jack and Fundy as a punishment. Eret, Nikki and whoever want are joining in from day to day to help out, (including the badlands, sans Skeppy), because apparently the amount of TNT was ridiculous and it almost reached the bedrock, plus the three withers that Quackity spawned while on the run (and where the fuck did he get material for those in such short notice when he spent most of his time doing Schlatt’s paperwork?). Among other things, not as important.

George, on the other side, makes a comment or two to correct some things. Like Tubbo, Tommy, Purpled and Ant reuniting materials, how Schlatt is alive only because Philza managed to calm almost everyone

“He said that we had to take it easy,” George mutters, annoyed. “That killing more people wouldn’t help. Technoblade agreed, but only because he said that it was your choice to take his life or not, considering he killed you.”

The older one continues with the details. The discussion that Fundy and Wilbur had, the arrest of Schlatt. He clarifies that the rest is second-hand, told to him by Bad and Ant; Karl finding the hidden room (where the control room should’ve been, because the world had to remind him of his mistakes, of course), Quackity starting the first two withers to escape, and the third to try to get away, only to be dropkicked by Tommy and fully stopped by Tubbo last second.

In the end, everyone but the two perpetrators learn about his condition by Eret’s and Bad’s intervention.

There’s been visitors at the community house, keeping tabs on his condition while he’s out, giving small gifts like cookies and so. His friends stay there all week, most of the time only leaving to get food and check on the rest.

(He’s forgetting something. He’s sure of it. Has everyone been mentioned? Has everyone come to the community house while he was asleep? He feels like he’s forgetting something and he can’t put his finger on it.

It’s probably going to bite him in the ass later, but right now, he’s still not in the condition to worry about that.

He’ll just have to suffer the consequences later).

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” He sighs, pouting. “Ah, if only the stupid egg didn’t exist. I wish we could just let it at this and go do a manhunt or something.”

“Well. We can still do something fun! Once this is all over!”

George chuckled. “I agree. We’ll do a manhunt or something once that egg is fried.”

Dream smiled.

(He wished that it’d be like that. Oh, how he wished).

“For now, I’m gonna take a few days more to sleep. Can you guys try to find the bloom? I’ll join you two soon.”

George gasped, dramatically and clearly faked. “What is this?! Dream?! Are you choosing to rest?! Is this real?!”

“Oh ho ho! Dream resting! This is a new one!”

The door slammed open, Bad on the other side, eyes wide open.

“Dream is awake?! Dream!”

“Bad!”

‘You’re okey! “

“I a– Wait! Wait wait wait don’t jump on me I’m still not–!! Oof!”.

CaptainPuffy has been whitelisted.

FoolishG has been whitelisted.

Ranboo has been whitelisted.

Chapter Text

There’s a pressure building up in his chest, and that’s how he wakes up this time.

He coughs, ignoring the sound of the door opening. A passing thought runs by him, faintly remembering that last time it wasn’t this bad, but he quickly shoves it aside in favor of focusing to regain his breath.

A hand pats him in the back, as if he’s chocking, and it’s kinda annoying, so weakly he pushes it aside, keeping the hand in the middle.

“Sorry! I–”

Shaking his head, he finally stops coughing.
“I’m–” He pauses to clear his throat, and once the action is done, he continues. “I’m fine. Sorry.”

It’s Tubbo, he recognizes. The kid is (finally) using his clothes from before the whole presidential drama. He also looks more relaxed.
Well, right now he looks anxious and worried, as one probably would considering he just entered into Dream coughing his lungs out; but it’s the way he stands that shows the admin what he wants to know. Slouching a little, hair a mess, hands stained with dirt; the same way as someone his age should.

“Are you sure, big man? It was a tough week. Do you want to rest some more?”

“Ah– no, no. I’m fine, really. I must have eaten a fly or something while I was sleeping.” He mumbles the last sentence, pouting and patting his own chest.

Tubbo smiles, the tension in his shoulders disappearing completely. He drags a chair to the side of Dream’s bed, and sits there.

“Are you feeling better? You gave us a big scare when you didn’t re-appear after what Schlatt-!” The kid frowns, somewhat frustrated at the memory. “After what Schlatt did.”

He is already sitting. The whole attack he had just moments ago pushed him into that position. It’s a good thing, because that way he can easily crawl to the kid, patting him in the head and messing his hair even more. Dream clears his throat and speaks.

“Cheer up. You’re okey, that’s what worried me.”

There’s a pang of guilt in Tubbo’s face, but the kid quickly changes that into a thankful face directed at Dream.

“Thank you. And– I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Why? It wasn’t your fault.”

Tubbo looks away, clearly ashamed. “You tried to warn me that they knew, but I didn’t listen. If I had listened to you we wouldn’t have been in that situation, and you wouldn’t have lost one of your lives.”

Dream bites his lip a little and clears his throat before answering.
“Maybe, yeah. But what’s done is done. There’s no use crying over spilt milk. What matters is that no one else got seriously injured… right?”

“Yeah, no! Everyone is okey!” The younger boy exclaims, straightening. “Besides L’manburg and the festival, everything else is intact! There were a couple of deaths because of the Withers, and Quackity killed himself to spawn on the button room. But no canon ones.”

He smiles in response. “That’s good! That’s good. I’m glad things worked out in the end.”

“Yeah! And what about you? You slept a whole week! I have been visiting all week, but you’re never up. Wilbur tried to come too but I don’t think George likes him very much.”

“Oh. I got bugged. I don’t know. The respawn system got weird.”

It’s a lie, of course. But until they find the bloom, he doesn’t want to involve anyone else. Especially the minors of the server. Not this time.

“Oh! Is that why George and Sapnap wanted to interrogate Schlatt? Is it… is it the weapon he used?”

Tubbo’s voice gradually gets lower, and the happy face he was making slowly transforms into guilt once again.

“Probably. I do need to go ask Schlatt.”

There’s a small pause. The minor is clearly hesitating to talk about something, and Dream doesn’t want to pressure him, so he waits.

“I… uh. I don’t know if you’ll be able to see him. I mean– of course you can! But… Should you? After what he did…”

The kid is looking away again. There’s another seconds of silence while Dream stares at the kid, once again waiting, this time for the minor to elaborate. When he notices that there’s no more to it, Dream sighs.

“I understand, but I do have to talk to him. What he did is probably going to need some kind of punishment.”

“…Can’t… Can’t Wilbur and Eret do that? I just–”

He interrupts this time.
“Tubbo.” The kid jumps, looking finally at Dream’s eyes (sorta). “You don’t have to go near Schlatt if you don’t want to. I wasn’t there all the time, but I know he hurt you and Quackity. You’re under no obligation to go anywhere near him.”

It’s obvious that Tubbo wants to say something else, scrunching his face in a funny way.

“Although… It’s true that, in the end, it’s Eret’s and Wilbur’s decision. They’re the current leaders. I just want to give some ideas.” He explains, a little small in his face in an attempt to calm him down.

“He hurt you too.” Tubbo mutters.

He hears it, perfectly. Still, he lets out a confused “huh?”, blinking slowly.

“You don’t have to be near him either, you know?” It’s honestly kind of scary, seeing Tubbo get an angry, dangerous expression, grim face as he thinks of Schlatt. “He tried to make you kill me. He separated Fundy and Wilbur. He destroyed everything I worked for, and was a piece of shit. And then he killed you. If he’s alive is only because Eret and Phil thought that you’d want to give your opinion on the matter, but that’s it.”

A teen that a few days ago seemed so scared and weak, looking murderous and ready to snap Schlatt’s neck. Dream shivered.

(It’s for him. Tubbo is worried for him. He thought that the whole ‘don’t go see Schlatt’ was because the kid just hated Schlatt and didn’t want to risk Dream doing something to help the other man or something, but it was because he’s… worried.

He doesn’t understand how the teen got to that conclusion, that Dream was scared or nervous of Schlatt. I mean, he kind of was, because getting stabbed in the neck is not fun and it hurts a lot, but all things considered, he had gone through worse. It wasn’t that bad.

Still, he felt… touched. That Tubbo was worried about him. That the minor cared. A warm feeling that filled his chest… it was… nice).

Tubbo sighs.
“But it’s your choice.” The heavy atmosphere clears up in an instant, the teenager smiling brightly, (and holy fuck, seeing something like that in another person is really nerve-wracking). “Just remember to take it easy! Sapnap said you were hurting a lot!”

He clears his throat, and says: “Don’t worry. ‘Taking it easy’ is my second name!”

“…You passed out of exhaustion a few months ag–”

“And! talking about that! I kinda need to rest! shoo. Shoo.”

The teen snorted. “Okey, okey. I’ll tell Wilbur and Tommy that they can come visit, is that okey?”

“Yeah. Just tell them so send me a message before.”

“Sounds good! In that case, see you later Dream!”

“Later, bee!”

_______________________________________

“Bye Dream! Take care!”

“Later, Nikki!”

After the door closed behind the girl, he sighed, throwing himself against the bed.
Don’t get it wrong, he’s glad that everyone cares enough to visit him, but to some degree, all this visiting is tiring him even more than the actual festival.

While Sapnap and George are on the lookout for the bloom of the egg, searching around the mainland, he has to stay home, resting in the community house.

Well, they call it resting. To him, this is basically house arrest. Bad and Ant are the two guards of his small prison, (and that makes him shiver for some reason he can’t really remember), and it’s slowly driving him crazy. He’s thankful that they are taking care of him but the inability to go out, to run or do anything really is going to kill him one of this fucking long days.

Yesterday it was Punz, Ponk, Karl and Callahan. Today, Purpled and Nikki. Tubbo too has been visiting daily, giving him some honey collected by him and Tommy to help with his scratchy throat.

Speaking of Tommy, is he and Wilbur the two people that haven’t visited him yet. Also Technoblade, but that’s to be expected.

He also is kinda hoping to talk to Philza, and thank him for appearing in what’s probably one of the best moments possible.

It is a shame that everything still got blown up, but at least no one else (like Tubbo, for example) got seriously injured, or worse; killed. With Jack and Fundy still on Schlatt’s side, that could’ve quickly transformed into a shitty situation. Most were still in shock, and whoever wasn’t, was detained by the threat of the TNT. Hell, if Phil hadn’t arrived, Tubbo probably would’ve died, still stuck on the small concrete jail while the TNT went off.

Yeah, he had to thank Phil. He’ll probably gift him a god apple or a totem. Something to… keep him alive.

(He still remembers the gross smell of burnt meat, Puffy’s and Phil’s charred flowers and feathers as the only recognizable thing left from the explosion. He had to do anything to keep them alive this time).

Oh.

Yeah.

Puffy.

He huffed. The fact that he had to invite her (Foolish had already been invited, a few hours ago. His invitation hadn’t been as hard to send, and he accepted. It was only Puffy who was left) for the rehabilitation center he was planning on creating for Quackity and Schlatt was still there, hanging in the air from a string directly from his memory.

Even after her sacrifice, he still was a little resented from her abandonment. He wanted to forgive her, like he had done with George and Sapnap, and even Bad or Wilbur. But a part of him just didn’t really wanted to let go.

He’s really not sure what’s the difference between his friends and Puffy, but there’s one. If he wants to properly help those two bastards, he shouldn’t let his feelings get in the way, and still…

And still he can’t forget that the woman just up and left him when he was completely alone. She had sworn for family, smiled at him and told him that she would be there by his side no matter what. But when he was on the ground, humiliated, abandoned, broken and begging for his last life, she just stood there on the back, watching with disdain and shame, disgusted by him, ready to go adopt another person just a few days after he was thrown into prison.

She never even visited.

At least Sapnap and Bad visited.

Hell, fucking Tommy visited.

But she?

He bit his lip, staring at the transmisor.

Quackity had already set up the outside communication. He just had to pick the station, find her code, and ask her. It was so easy, so simple.

‘She left you alone,’ his traitor mind provides. ‘She left you to die.’

It’s the truth. The truth and nothing more.
He knew it was unfair of him. He was giving Quackity the benefit of the doubt, but not her? She was competent and smart.

‘She left you to die.’

‘And when Tommy lifted the axe to give the final blow, she stood there.’

‘She left you to die’.

He sends the message, and throws the transmisor away, not ready to see any answer. It arrives almost instantly, if the ping that sounds across the room is any indication, but he truly cannot find it in himself to stand and go look. He just doesn’t care.

Later, in the night, he’ll do so, and sigh somewhat relieved that she agreed to come help with the two crazy bastards that are currently in a courthouse, probably bored to hell and back.

But right now, he was angry and hurt, and Puffy was a problem for the future, when he had the mental (and physical) strength to stand up and go look for the transmisor.

___________________________________________

The whole ‘sleepy’ family is standing in front of him.

He just woke up, so for a second, and half sitting as he is, he really thinks that it might be his imagination. Maybe dead Tommy and dead Wilbur are here with dead Philza and (maybe?) dead Techno, faking being alive to have some laughs at his expense. Maybe he is dead, and this is all the egg torturing him for the lols in a personal hell, which would check perfectly with its previous attitude.

“Hey mate!”

He blinks slowly, barely moving, thinking that maybe if he waits, the illusion will go away.

“I think Schlatt broke him. Can we go punch that goat bastard?”

“No Tommy, we’re not going to go punch Schlatt. Yet.”

Technoblade snorts.
“You look like a total loser. You also have bed hair, and it looks stupid.”

He huffs, offended, clearing his throat before speaking.

“I wonder why. As you can see, I am currently in bed. Where are your glasses anyways?”

“Home. I wasn’t super excited to see your face.”

“Oh, so you are blind, bacon?”

“I wish. Maybe I wouldn’t have to see your dumb smiley face, teletubby.”

“Still jealous you can’t be as handsome?”

“I’m sure. Yet here you are, covering your face. That’s pretty sus, Dr–”

“Yeah, yeah. Stop hogging Dream, Techno, we all want to talk to him.”

Both rivals sputtered, dumbfounded by Tommy’s comment. Philza and Wilbur of course, find both the comment and their reactions hilarious. However, is Wilbur the one that’s laughing to his heart content. At least the angel of death has the decency to maintain his composure and cover his annoying smile behind one of his hands.

“Phil why are you laughing. Phil this is betrayal.”

To that, Wilbur laughs even more loudly, and Phil just snorts.
Tommy looks proud. Like, so proud anyone could think he just bested Techno and Dream in a 2v1 pvp game. Dream just rolls his eyes, shaking his head, a bit amused. He clears his throat and asks:

“Well, to what do I owe the honor?”

“Well, to helping us take down Schlatt and fall on the way, of course.” Wilbur says with a smile that slowly dissolves into a frown. “I want to apologize for that too, actually. I wasn’t– I didn’t know that Schlatt was that desperate.”

He shrugs. The constant apologizing from everyone is a little tiring, (he doesn’t deserve it, anyways), and to be honest, he doesn’t care. He’s just mad that his death resulted in the egg being free once again. If it weren’t for that, he probably wouldn’t give a second thought to the fact that he just lost one of his canons lives.

Aside from that, he was kinda expecting someone to attack him. It just happened to be later than he thought, and in a painful way, in a not so great moment.

Details.

Clearing his throat, Dream shakes his hand, minimizing the incident. “It’s fine. My fault. I should’ve noticed it was a trap. Still, I’m glad the gremlin child went un-injured.”

“Hey!! Don’t speak as if I’m not here, you fuck! I can hear you!”

A smug smile settled on his lips, payback for Tommy’s earlier comment quickly set on the air.

“If anything, I kinda owe Philza for getting me out of trouble. If he had arrived any second later, I don’t know how everything would’ve gone.” He pauses, clearing his throat, then frowning and looking away from the family. “I didn’t want to hurt Tubbo. So, it probably would’ve ended the same.”

Of course, in his position, he can’t see what the reaction of the men behind him is, but he hears movement.

“It’s fine. L’manburg can be rebuilt. If it’s by our hands, with our people, is still L’manburg.”

“But… are you sure you’re okey, mate?”

“Yeah! We couldn’t come earlier because some ass was being a jerk about the treaties–”

“I will not join your little country, Tommy.”

“–But we heard that you had a bug! A big, painful one! We heard that you screamed like a little pu–!”

“We were worried,” Wilbur intersects Tommy’s sentence, shooting it down instantly. That catches his attention, making him look towards them once again. “You didn’t come back and we didn’t know if you had respawned or not until later, just to learn that you got bugged. It was… a little upsetting.”

Worried, he says.
Besides George and Sapnap, and maybe Bad, has anyone been worried for him?

Maybe before the server was opened for his friends, yeah. But after Tommy and Wilbur–
He stops, annoyed with himself. Once again, trying to shift the blame for being a piece of shit. Focus on the present, Dream. You’re the villain, not them.

“Thank you,” he mutters, “for visiting. And caring”.

Phil and Wilbur smile, both with some degree of softness in their expressions. Tommy just looking away, and Techno doing the same.
He, too, smiles, moved by the appreciation.

“Of course Dream.”

“Whatever, big D! You better get better soon! We have a lot of things to do! Tubbo said that you promised to go find some bees with us and you better, you bitch!”

Techno muses. “We haven’t sparred in a while. And the cows got used to your annoying presence on the farm. They’ve been making a ruckus, and you have to go calm them down. It’s kind of your responsibility for getting them used to having a lot of noise.”

A little laugh escapes him, and he nods.

“Yeah, sure. I miss them too. I started to name the little ones!”

The hybrid groans. “Names, too? Don’t”

“Too late!”

“Oh, and hey, I finished composing another song. We should reunite– you know. Where. You need to hear it.”

He nods in agreement, clearing his throat before speaking,

“And then? Is everyone else okey? How’s the re-building?”

This time is Wilbur who shrugs.
“It’s going well. There’s still a little of damage around, but almost everything has been re-built. Most houses are already done, and we’re focusing on the main path.”

“You should see my house! It’s the most amazing thing in L’manburg of course!”

“Tommy you just made it slightly bigger.”

“The most amazing thing in L’manburg! Ha!”

He can hear Techno’s snort and he can see Wilbur rolling his eyes, and also Tommy opening his mouth to angrily shout back at them for their reactions, just the same moment Philza pats him in the head, some strength behind it, as it pushes the minor back slightly, confusing him.

“Relax, Tommy. We’re trying to be guests here. Don’t start a fight.”

“They started it first!”

“Hmm, I dunno about that. I haven’t done anything.”

“Yeah, I agree with Techno.”

Tommy frowns deeply, annoyed at the response, but resolves to not answer back, crossing his arms and turning towards Dream.

“Ignore them, Dream. They’re just really jealous because they know that my house is the best fucking construction and that you’re gonna like it more than whatever they built.”

“I’m sure, Tommy”

With that, the room becomes silent, it slowly transforming from a comfortable silence into an awkward one. He’s not quite sure what to say, and even if he had some idea, having the four men here sure doesn’t help, because he can’t divulge all the information.

“Uh– yeah. By the way, big D.”

He clears his throat, and answers. “Yeah, Tommy?”

“I… Thanks. For helping us out. And I’m… I’m sorry I blamed you and screamed at you that time. In Pogtopia.”

(Thank you.

It leaves a warm feeling in his chest.

He has heard those words before, of course. But never in this kind of setting.
If he hears it, it’s usually for some minor task he helped at, or because it’s directed to someone else. If he thinks, really thinks about it, he doesn’t remember a single time in his original timeline where he heard those words said towards him. Hell, before the server was open again, it still had been years if not more since he heard some degree of gratitude towards his actions.)

He smiles. “It’s no problem. I’m glad you guys are okey.”

(It’s the truth.
He hated every single thing he had to do last time. His stupid self, terrified of once again losing everything to war and crimson had been his overall downfall. His obsession with being strong: with being unbreakable, so the egg could never leave, was what ended up leaving him open for a demon possession, and with that, letting It free to roam around the lands once again. And then, even after failing, he continued pushing, acting as if he really was strong, brave, unbreakable, even when he was obviously broken. Afraid, alone, and broken. Perfect recipe for disaster. He hated the fear he had, the pressure, the way an internal clock seemed to tik every single second, booming the noise in his ears in a mockery towards his failed attempts to protect his home.

Every single day, he remembered with shame his actions. The screaming, the threats. He had done so in an attempt to protect everyone, to protect himself, but in that pathetic attempt, he had put everything in a silver plate for the egg to conquer. Including himself.

Especially himself).

“And, uh. Yeah. That. I just… If you ever need help. In anything. As stupid as your, uh, work might be. Just… I’ll be there. Okey? So… Stop pushing yourself so much, dumbass. Don’t go and collapse in the woods again.”

There’s blinking.
Like, he’s pretty sure that everyone just blinked at the same moment, in the same slow motion.

“Wow.” Techno is the first to talk after Tommy. “That’s– That’s so sappy.”

“Shut up, Technoblade!”

“Tommy. No. Seriously.” Wilbur says this time. “That was really. Really. Sappy.”

“Ugh! Whatever! You’re all stupid! Fuck off!”

Famous last words before the gremlin child all but dashed through the room, opening the door and slamming it behind him in a single, swift motion, leaving no time for the rest of the family or Dream to say a single thing.

But after the door is shut, and several stomps that slowly decrease in volume are heard, everyone shares a laugh.

Wilbur stops first, turning to Dream.
“No, but seriously now. Thank you, Dream. I know I said it sometimes already, but I’m actually thankful. I do owe you, more than one. You saved Nikki, you saved Tubbo. You didn’t fight with us, but you still did everything in your power to help us. I am indebted, and I’ll be here for anything you need.”

(And even barely sparing a glance at the musician, Dream can see all the honesty that the Wilbur from his original timeline never expressed.

It’s funny, how a single decision can change everything.

No, Dream?).

“Thank you.”

The ex-president waved his hand in fake disinterest, smiling proudly as he backed away to the door.

“Well, see you soon. Better get better quickly. Everyone is waiting to have you around.”

“Oh– Wilbur.”

The man stopped, turning his head to Dream.
“Yeah?”

Frowning, the admin asked: “What about… Schlatt–?” He cleared his throat and continued. “– And Quackity?”

“Oh. That.”

Wilbur turns completely, giving all his attention to the man in the bed.

“Eret and I decided that, for the time being, they’re to be held at the courthouse. There were some that wanted to take their lives, or just ban them from the server, but you being the admin, we were waiting for your choice too.”

Techno hummed, and continued Wilbur’s speech. “We had a tie, between if they were to live or not. And considering that banning them was an option too, you are the last voice.”

He bites down one of his nails, the poor think instantly cracking under the pressure.

“We’re keeping them alive,” He says. “I sent a message to a few… acquaintances. I’ll get Foolish to build a recovery center, and captain Puffy to be their psychologist. If things get too bad, I’ll blacklist them from the server. But I want to give it a try before doing something drastic.”

Wilbur sighs. And loudly, at that. Techno looks mostly amused.
Is Philza the only one who looks dumbfounded. Which is… curious? He was honestly expecting more confused stares to his decree.

“Of course you’d try to help the two assholes who killed you. Honestly, Dream.”

Dream just smiles sheepishly and scratches his neck.

(He was expecting surprise because he was, after all, a monster. Wouldn’t this be surprising? Rare? Instead of instantly vanishing them or attacking them like he would have in the original timeline, he was trying to help them.

And why was everyone acting as if he was an idiot for doing so? He was just trying to help!).

“You’re acting as if I’d proclaimed I’d just turn the other cheek and let those jerks kill me again.”

“I’m not. But it does makes sense that you, who helped us build L’manburg even when I started it to spite you, would try to help those two instead of punishing them. You’re too nice. You’re gonna get yourself killed again.”

Dream pauses. Really pauses. There’s some part of him that comes to understand. Grimly, he corrects Wilbur.

“Don’t confuse this with kindness, Wilbur. I’m not doing this out of the good of my heart.”

There are now three surprised faces looking at him. He huffs, looking away, clearing his throat.

“I just… Think of it like redemption. I’m doing all of this because I owe some people. I’m not a good person.”

He said it. They probably will hate him now; understand that he’s doing all this out of selfishness and–

“Dream come on. Stop being so edgy. We all know you’re a softie.”

He sputters.
“What?! What?! What is wrong with you, Techno?!”

The hyb– actually, forget that. The three man are looking at him, finding this fun. What a bunch of jerks, seriously.
Techno, the fucker, has the audacity to look smug, while Phil has a fond smile, and Wilbur is just amused overall.

“Dream. You’re like, the softest person in the server. You are like the kind of dumbass who would try to act as a villain to unite everyone or something. I mean, you would if anyone saw you as such. But you already showed everyone you’re a big softie so that plan isn’t working any time soon.”

“I wou– I’m not a softie!”

“No, Dream. You really are.”

“Wilbur, shut up!”

“Later, Dream!”

“You–”

It’s too late. Wilbur escapes his fury by going through the door and closing it once he’s out, ignoring completely Dream’s protests and avoiding by seconds the one pillow he threw. He huffs, deeply offended by the simple suggestion that he isn’t a complete monster, (because really, they just don’t know what they’re talking about), and looks at Techno, frowning.

“You’re a jerk.”

“I’m the best.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Agree to disagree, smiley.”

“Oh, fuck off, bacon.”

Chapter Text

“I could totally beat you in a duel if that’s what you want.”

“Ah, but how about parkour warriors? I’d make you eat dust.”

“Not everyone can be an obnoxious little man who jumps over boats over lava and stuff.”

“Little?! We’re the same height!”

“Whatever you say, obnoxious little man.”

“What is wrong wit–”

He stops.
The attempt to hold in the coughs proves to be useless. It’s been building up for a little while, but the more he talks, the more the itching increases, more painful each time. Right now he still hasn’t coughed, but he has to clear his throat constantly, and now he can’t continue the bickering without having an attack.

He doesn’t even notice how Philza and Techno share a look, before the angel of death gets closer. Finally, he has to lift a hand to make the winged man come to a stop, so he can cough without being rude and spitting all over the man. At first is easy just covering it with the inside of one of his elbows, but it becomes increasingly difficult to do that. In a matter of seconds, he is trying to push himself away from the bed, arms shaking– whole body uncontrollably shaking.
There’s blood on the sheet, a hand in his back, and a combination of gross coppery crimson and saliva sliding down his chin, and decorating the corner of his mouth.

He really could puke because of the exertion. He doesn’t want to, and is trying to hold it in.

Thankfully, the coughing stops before the situation gets worse.

The hand in his back helps him sit up, and he’s thankful, because he could’ve just collapsed on the bed.

It’s Philza. The man is serious, no longer smiling from afar at the bickering between the rivals, but instead assessing the situation. Dream has no energy left to complain, or to argue, and Philza takes that as an opportunity to inspect the death scar.

Dream trembles when the man touches the back of his neck, pulling him in him to check it. He can feel the fingers of the angel of death in the scar tissue, although its attenuated in comparison to the rest of the skin.

“I’ve seen something like this before, in another server. It’s thankfully not that bad, considering the direction. It didn’t permanently cut anything important, but it probably damaged the vocal chords.”

He opens his mouth to ask, but Phil stops him.

“It means that you shouldn’t speak a lot. If you do, you’ll rebound, like you did just now. You’ll probably do better if you start eating enchanted food with regeneration. If not, you’ll have to wait a week or so after a rebound to speak. Or you’ll end up cutting the vocal chords, and lose your ability to speak until it’s regenerated. Even permanently, if you can’t get something to fix it before it naturally heals.”

Dream covers his mouth. There’s a slight tremble in his hand, and he’s thankful that neither men mentions it, because he might cry if they do.
Phil sighs, straightening away from the admin, disappointment and frustration clear in his frown.

“Sorry, Mate. I think there’s probably an operation to fix it, but not in this server. You’ll need to search it outside. And even then, I’m not really sure. If you do find it, It’ll take its time to be done and work.”

There’s a silence now.
Dream uses the sleeve of his hoodie to clean the blood that is still in his face, looking away, exhaling deeply.

“It should strengthen with time. It’ll take a year or so before your vocal chords regain enough strength to stop breaking and hurting. It might be even quicker with regeneration pots. It won’t be a fix, but it’ll make rebounds rarer, maybe stop them altogether, and you’ll have more freedom to speak.”

He nods. What else can he do? Phil just told him that is still a probability that he loses his voice permanently. He knows that the warning is good, and that Phil is trying and caring for him, but he can’t keep the hot fury and frustration that are forming in his chest. At this point, the blood in the sheets and his clothes is the least he cares about, so he drops on the bed like dead weight.

“I’ll leave, now. Sorry for the bad news, mate.”

Dream shakes his head.
He’s angry, of course, but is not at Phil. He’s thankful. (He is irritated with the man for ruining the excitement he had, but it can’t be helped. It was something that he needed to know, and the earlier the better. It would’ve been far worse if he had learned about this when his voice was already gone for good).

“Rest well,” Phil says, almost a whisper. “I’ll tell your friends about it, okey?”

He thinks a second about it, and nods. George is already annoyed with him for causing so much problem, and it’s probably better that he, Sapnap and Bad come to terms with it while he’s asleep.
(It’s a bitch move, he knows. But he can’t keep this hidden for long, he currently can’t speak, and he’s just so fucking tired of all this stupid situation and just wants to sleep forever. Can he be selfish just this once? When the only one in danger is him? When he’s sure that no one but him is gonna come injured out of this one?)

The angel of death finally leaves the room, the door making a squeaking noise when moving, and a soft snap when the man closes it completely.
He covers his fac– mask. With his arm. It doesn’t let the light in. He’s well aware that Techno is still in the room, but he’s low-key hoping that the hybrid understands that he wants to be left alone to process everything.

Unfortunately, despite noticing his troubling situation, Techno doesn’t really care, and he hears a chair being dragged across the room, the noise getting closer, and stopping right on the edge of his bed, followed by a soft thud that indicates that Techno-fucking-blade decided to ignore his clear frustration and stay.

“I know that this is probably the last thing you want right now, but we need to talk.”

Naturally, Dream isn’t happy about the choice of words, so he rises his arm and glares at the piglin hybrid with such eyes that if looks could kill, Technoblade would have to change his “Technoblade never dies” motto.

To that, the other man responds by rising his hands in surrender. “Terrible choice of words. Sorry.”

Dream sighs, sitting once again, taking out his transmisor as to have a way to answer.

“Okey, so I didn’t answer you last time because I wasn’t fully aware of the situation, but chat got very insistent you needed help, so I finally paid attention, and yeah… You’re really fucked, man”.

He drops the transmisor, opening his mouth to speak, cringing at the pain that slams him the second he attempts to talk. Also, he can feel blood starting to rise, so he gulps and takes the item in his bed once more.
To that Techno answers by taking out his comunicator, ready to look at his questions.

The awkward and fast sound of his fingers hastily tapping the buttons was the only thing to be heard, and that sincerely didn’t do shit to calm his nerves. Clumsily, after a couple of attempts, he sends the message.

You whisper to Technoblade: so you know?

“The general details, mostly. I know about the failed omelet mission, the amount of lives lost, which honestly, bummer, about your time in prison, and a few more stuff.”

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Techno knows.

He backs away from the edge of the bed, laying against the wall, not caring if his current incredulity makes him act as an idiot. Techno knows. Is he supposed to be relieved? To cry? scream? Should he attack Techno?
Well no, he’s not going to attack Techno, but should he? Would that be the smart thing to do, or is that just his panic screaming in his head, desperate to make him feel in control once more by any means necessary?

“Of course, I’m not going to tell anyone, that would be kind of rude of me. Not my secret to tell. Considering what they say you did to get in prison, I would totally see why you don’t want anyone to know.”

He hisses, lowly, clear anger in the sound that makes the other man nod.

“Yeah, I also see why you’d act like that. Really, Dream. I’m not snitching on you. Personally I think everyone was in the wrong and everyone sucks. Like, manipulating kids is kind of weirdchamp, not gonna lie, but it was also pretty sucky of them to make you the villain when they were being the jerks.”

This isn’t helping.
(He’s the villain, he fucked everything up. Don’t tempt him, Techno, because he felt that self-righteous fury before and he doesn’t want to indulge in it again. It just worsens things).

You whisper to Technoblade: do you know how we lost?

Techno hums as a positive answer.
“Yeah. I know about the bombing and the separation. It does seem like something I’d do if Phil died. But that’s not happening now. No one’s dying this time. We’re making sure.”

We, he says.

(George and Sapnap also said we, in the past timeline, and it all went terrible.

The pro-omelet team also said we, and Tommy died, and Philza and Puffy died, and Techno left.

Karl and Ranboo said also said we, and Karl was captured, and Ranboo got injured.

But, everyone said we, too, in the new timeline.
And for once, instead of doubting any of them, instead of doubting Techno, he feels warm, relaxed; relieved).

You whisper to Technoblade: well, we better keep that promise, because I’m tired of seeing people die

The piglin hybrid huffs in amusement.
“Really? I thought it was your main hobby.”

You whisper to Technoblade: shut up.

“Just sayin’. Or do you like more dying yourself?”

He doesn’t answer, just staring at Techno in silence. The other man seems to notice that the topic wasn’t the best as of now, and he looked away.

“Oh. Yeah. Oops. Sorry”

Dream rolls his eyes, sighing at the same time he starts to type again.

You whisper to Technoblade: Do you know about Ranboo?

“More or less,” the response is almost instantaneous. “I know that he’s half ender hybrid half prime-knows-what, and that I didn’t completely hate him from the start, which has to be something. They got too stupid and started to say ‘Ranboo my beloved’ instead of explaining me anything.”

Well, that was a start.
It’s probably for the better that Techno doesn’t know everything. Otherwise, he might refuse to befriend the minor, and while neither would suffer, he would feel very guilty if another friendship got ruined because of him. If they had the chance to naturally bond, things will go far better than just outright forcing them to be friends too. Natural bonds usually end in a good note.

You whisper to Technoblade: the server whitelisted him. He’s most likely coming soon.

“Good. I wanna see what’s the ruckus all about. He better be at least cool. Gotta maintain my clout. I’m not about to help another Tommy.”

A small laugh escapes him, (followed by a groan because fuck, that hurts), and he nods.

You whisper to Technoblade: It’s fine. He’ll most likely be a little shy at the start, but he’s a nice boy.
You whisper to Technoblade: He also punched me in the face
You whisper to Technoblade: I’ll give that to him
You whisper to Technoblade: for all he was terrified of me, he didn’t hesitate a single second to throw a punch

“Oh, I already like him. Anyone who kicks your ass like that is my friend.”

You whisper to Technoblade: Get out

“Nah. I’m taking a break. You’re stuck with me until I get bored.”

He can already feel the headache, and frowns with fake annoyment at the other’s smirk. If he could groan, he’d be doing just that.

“This is my revenge. You stopped visiting the farm after you got the animals used to your annoying presence. So now I’m going to annoy you back.”

You whisper to Technoblade: I hate you

“Sure you do, I believe you.” Techno says, not believing him at all.

__________________________________

Days go by.
By the end of the second week, he’s feeling better. Well rested, well eaten, able to speak, (and apparently everyone in the server now knows about his little issue, which yay, fun. Super excited about that). (To be fair, everyone would know eventually. It’s probably better that they deal with it on their own while the situation fully sets in. He hates the pity, and how everyone is acting as if his made of glass, considering that last time they acted as if he was made of bedrock, but you know how things are. Can’t have everything). Some nightmares still wake him up, but the amount of general sleep he has proven to work the moment he finally stands up and feels like new.

Well. New with a big scar in the middle of his throat, and a little one in the middle of the torso.

He had to admit that both Quackity and Schlatt had good aim. Hitting the exact middle of their targets, that’s commendable.

It’d be, of course, better if it his body wasn’t their fucking target, but hey; credit where it’s due.

There’s still no sign of the egg. He barely sees his two friends because they’re busy trying to catch the bloom before anyone else does, and leave early in the morning, and arrive late at night. While he’s still ‘healing’, he has no chance to see them, but after almost a whole month, Dream can finally join the effort.

(He wasn’t even that injured. The releasing lasted two days, and recuperation about a week and a half. Sure, he knows that this time the release was a lot worse than in the OG timeline, but his friends were being ridiculous by forcing him in bed for three weeks! He had stuff to do, people!).

Today, however, it was a new day, and as long as nobody notices him leaving the mainland, nothing was stopping him from looking for that parasi–

Was that a notification of Foolish joining the server?
That was a notification of Foolish joining the server.

Which meant that he had to go speak with him. Cool. Just a nice chat, set the price and go join his friends with the search. This should be easy!!

____________________________

It wasn’t easy.
The server hadn’t informed him that Puffy was also in. Which thanks, server, you’re totally being useful right now. 10/10. Not being sarcastic at all. He saw both sweet mother and nice son walking around the place, giving themselves a tour everywhere; even L’manburg that was finally done being rebuilt, (and he’d never ever admit that he missed the streets of the rebel nation, and that he was glad to see it complete, even if he didn’t saw the place blown up, even if he stayed home for so long; he had an idea of how it looked in pieces, and he was glad to not see it like that. The big nation, finally peaceful. It was… nice). And call him a coward, but he’s not quite ready to face her again.

So he’s… not. Following them both from afar, Dream just tries to calm himself down while making sure that both are safe, using a crossbow to keep mobs away and generally just staying in the shadows.

It might not be the best choice, because at this time he would’ve liked to spend time with his team, searching for the egg instead of being an ass and following the new people like a weirdo. But… sue him. This is something he has to do. (Deal with Puffy. He has to deal with Puffy and be sure that he can interact with her without being an idiot, because her support depends on him being nice, like apparently fucking everything in the world–).

Now, Dream loves his mask. It’s comfortable, it lets him be slightly more expressive than what he should be, and more than that; he doesn’t have to fake being happy and comfortable near Puffy. Sure, he has to control his mouth from pulling a quick one on him and let his distaste for the sheep hybrid show… but in comparison, that’s nothing to what he had to endure while working with Schlatt!

So, that’s why he takes a deep breath, and decides that following them on the shadows is… super creepy and weird, and he’s past those behaviors, so it’s time to go and greet them.

It’s when they arrive to the community house that he acts. He pearls himself to the opposite side, dashing to get to the door just when they reach for the handle.

He stares wide-eyed at them, who share a glance before looking at him, slammed door closed behind him, half-closed door waiting behind them.

Then, clearing his throat and rising his hand, he says: “Hi.” Lamely.

What a loser. He kind of wishes for a time break right now, so he can slap himself a couple of times.

Puffy rises a brow, somewhat confused.

“Dream? You look… really tired.”

He is. Getting rid of creepers and endermen while trying to stay hidden and trying to stay near them, all at the same time is kind of hard. If it were a comedy movie, he’d be an idiot on the back dying to explosions and fighting to death with the end-dwellers while these two enjoy their travel, oblivious to his pain.

“Oh, yeah. I was, uh, running.”

“Weren’t you resting? Everyone said you’d be here, taking it easy after a bug or something”.

Foolish, you’re joining the traitor list, with Purpled at the top.
Actually, everyone who told them that should be at the list. Foolish is innocent, victim to the circumstances. He doesn’t know better!

“They also asked me to tell them if you weren’t, so…”

Forget that.
Foolish, traitor list.

“No, no. It’s fine. I was just getting really anxious while staying here. Alone. Doing nothing.”

“But if you were injured–”

He cuts him up, a little annoyed.
“Thank you, but I’m really fine. They’re just exaggerating. I’ve been okey for like, an entire week. And I just needed to do something.” He clears his throat, lowering his voice. “I just… feel bored and useless in here.”

“I get that,” This time Puffy is the one to speak. “But you look like you just ran through the whole mainland. Don’t push yourself, either.”

Resisting to huff is hard, but he does it anyway, (resisting, not huffing, even if that’s what he wants to do), because his families raised him as a nice, respectful boy, and he wasn’t going to throw that away.

“Yeah, sure.”

Of course, as he usually does, he regrets that instantly, because his tone sounds far harsher than intended, and both parties wince at his response. There’s also an awkward silence.

Fun stuff. Perfect. This is the exact reason why he failed to save the server the first time, but here he is, messing it up again. Honestly they should start paying him for fucking everything up, since he’s so good at doing that.

Clearing his throat, Dream resolves to speak:
“Uh, so, I kinda already explained what I invited you two here for. I know Foolish is a great builder, and I-” he stops to clear his throat once again. “–I heard that Captain Puffy was also a good, uh, therapist. And we have two dangerous people that need the help. Of course, there will be payment for your work, and there’s no need to accept. Whether or not we have your support with the… uh… the rehabilitation center, you two are free to stay in the server.”

“I already said I’ll help!” Foolish pitches in, a big toothy– fangy? smile in his face.

“I’ll– well, we–, reunite the materials for the center this week. I’ll get you seven diamond blocks and some netherite as payment, but I’m open for negotiation.”

“It’s not a big place. That’s more than enough!”

“Sure.” He turns to Puffy, and even though he tries, the excitement that danced in his tone just now completely disappeared when speaking to her. “And you? we still have to discuss payment, considering that it’s gonna be on a longer term than the process of building it, but…”

She smiles. “I’ll help, of course. No worries about payment. Consider it my thanks for letting me stay; I heard it was quite nice in here”.

He blinks.

“We had a literal war a few weeks ago.”

Puffy laughs, whole-heartedly, and while Dream doesn’t understand, he kind of forces a smile.

“Well, one or two bad weeks don’t define the whole year. Besides, everyone here has spoken so well about you! You seem like a great admin, Dream.”

He blinks again, slowly this time, not entirely sure if he was supposed to believe that or if it was a joke. His adhd would sometimes do that; someone would say something and no matter if he’d heard that before, he wouldn’t recognize if they meant well, or if it was sarcastic or not. However, this time it wasn’t his adhd speaking. Who in their right mind would say anything good about Dream? Even his friends usually would mention the bad stuff first, and understandably so. There was a lot of bad things, and very little good ones.

He shrugs.

“I’m trying.”

It’s clearly not working, if L’manburg was blown up and the egg got freed, but no one could fault him for trying.

Or they could. Who knows? He had experience having the short end of the stick.

Puffy, of course, couldn’t hear his self-hatred, and took that as humility, like Dream was some kind of good person who was doing things for the common good, going the high ground and helping everyone because it was the good thing to do, and not because he was some egoistical asshole who just wanted validation, redemption, and to just rest.

“Well, you’re doing great.”

He looked away, uncomfortable and suddenly feeling like choking, so to change topics, he once again clears his throat and shakes a hand in a disinterested manner.

“Anyways, feel free to stay here in the community house until you have where to stay. Grab stuff from the chests if you want to, don’t need to tell anyone. It’s for everyone.”

“Thanks, Dream, but I’m going to get my own house as soon as possible,” Foolish say, winking, excited. “I’m just gonna grab some iron for tools, and I’ll go explore!”

“Sure, yeah, that’s fine.” He says, frowning softly at the uncomfortable feeling starting to set in his throat. He clears it. Again. (Repetitive, painful, annoying. He was a complete idiot. Falling for such a trap).

“See ya later, Dream!”

With that, the minor god took a couple of ingots from the chest, and ran away, ready to re-iterate his position as a great builder. He sighed, a little smile in his face.

“I’ll stay with Nikki. We’re friends, and she offered. Feel free to call me when you need to introduce me to Schlatt and Quackity, and when we have to start the sessions.”

For her, he just nods, not trusting himself to speak with no other witnesses in the place. She smiles, softly, motherly.

Dream hates it.

Puffy walks towards the door, opening it slowly and just stopping for a second to think if she should or not say the next words.
She shouldn’t, but nevertheless, she does.

“Rest well. And next time you follow us, just warn us! Or I might just start calling you duckling!”

The captain laughs, leaving the place, the sound of the door closing making echo in the place, (it’s not, not really, or at least not in the physical realm, because in his head, it does, and far more loudly than anything else). Dream has a clear forced smile in his face, but she doesn’t stop for enough time to see it, and so she just leaves him alone (again) with a pain in his chest that’s not exactly physical but it sure feels like it (again), letting him aching for something that he craves and he can never ever have again, (again).

He hiccups, and she’s long gone, but he still cries in silence like she just left. Like she just stood there while Tommy killed him, or like she never visited when he was alone in prison, or like she looked at him with disdain when he joined the rebellion, or like she hesitated too much to open up to him when he was just a broken man trying to belong somewhere in a destroyed and corrupted world. Dream doesn’t close his eyes, and he lowers his head, because he fears that if he thinks too much about her, she’ll come back and disarm him; and beat him, in his imagination, or in the real life.

Vulnerability is not an option. Not with her, not -again-. He already lost that bet, and if he lets it open again, it might be too much this time.

If he wants to beat the egg, if he wants to save his world, he has to be what he couldn’t last time: unbreakable.

Chapter Text

With Foolish and Puffy gone, off to do their thing and settle down, there’s nothing else to do. It’s too late to start his search for the egg; his friends will come back soon, and if he goes missing at this hour, there’ll probably be another manhunt and another week of house arrest. He is feeling better, of course, but he’s not quite in the zone to go and test his luck just yet.

And speaking of not being at full energy, that was… interesting, if he was being honest. There’s theoretically no difference on the og timeline and this one. He spent the same time unwell, it was just as frustrating, the same little shit escaped him… And still, he couldn’t help but feel… drained. And okey, yeah, the pain was way worse this time around, he’s aware of that! but this strange feeling of being incomplete was starting to get annoying.

He knew that the first time the seal broke, it weakened him, and that’s why he isn’t surprised that the pain was such a bitch this timeline. But that does not explain the emptiness inside of him. It’s as if part of him just… disappeared.

And not only that, but his memories were too starting to get fuzzy. It wasn’t something he cared about a lot while doing his mission under Schlatt, but now, with the time to think about it, he can’t help but feel worried.

It started with minor things. Having to ask people about something that they’re sure he asked just minutes ago, failing to recall little things that everyone asked him to do, repeating things over and over again. He hadn’t minded because that was normal for him. And if it was starting to get worse? Probably just the stress. He was under constant, underwhelming stress, of course his memory was starting to fail!

But then he couldn’t remember things about the times after Tommy came to the server. He wasn’t sure why he had three wars in mind when he only fully remembered one, (Schlatt’s and Quackity’s takedown just a few weeks ago, during the festival), or where was Spirit, and where had Alyssa gone to. Fleeting moments where something really important to him just… went away, and then came back incomplete.

(He forgot Tubbo’s name one time while the minor was visiting.

And when Skeppy passed by to drop some muffins, Dream didn’t remember who was the one to send them.

And when he found an ender pearl in his things, he forgot the name of an injured friend in the future that had a relation to the object.

And when he had to check on Puffy and Foolish, he forgot which road led to L’manburg).

There was no need to panic about it (yet), but it was worrisome how some things that are part of his daily life just completely disappear from his mind for some minutes.

He can’t help but wonder if this is how Ranboo feels when he can’t remember something he did, and he feels guilty for letting the Enderwalking version of the teen hide his relation to Dream from his normal version, because having missing pieces from your life is not a nice feeling.

A door opens, the one directly in front of him, revealing Sapnap, covered with mud from head to toe, and an unamused face, George behind him looking suspiciously happy. Well, the memory issue is something to focus on later. He’ll just have to think of a way to keep is memories with him, even if his brain decides to yeet everything out of his head.

“Having fun, George?”

“Lots.” The brown-haired man exclaims, smile expanding, head turning away from Sapnap as the younger man gaped, frowning, deeply offended.

“He pushed me down a ravine!”

“It wasn’t a ravine. It was, like, a super small. Like, ten blocks deep, quit crying.”

“I could’ve died!”

“There was water at the bottom, you were full health, you’re fine. Stop being a child”

Sapnap slammed his muddy hand in George’s back, staining the blue shirt brown, making the older one gasp.

“Sapnap! Goddammit Sapnap! Now I have to clean this shirt!”

“Well it’s payback! I have to take a bath this late because of you!”

“Ugh! You’re such a child!”

“Well you’re dumb!”

“Ladies, ladies,” he interrupts, pushing both of his friends away from the other before a brawling started in the middle of the room. “You’re both pretty. And you’re getting the floor dirty. Calm down and go wash, you two. I could smell you from miles away.”

However, the moment his two friends shared a glance, slightly smiling at the sudden idea that appeared in their heads at the same time, he stepped back slowly.

“Oh, Dream!”

“Guys, think about the floor, the walls. You two are gonna have to clean so much–”

“Come here, Dream!”

“Sapnap– no. George! Step back!”

“Stop! You’re getting mud all over the place!”

“Well, let us get you and we won’t anymore!”

“No!”

“Ah, come on! The couch!”

“Dream!!”

“Get away from me, leave me alone!”

They get him, in the end.
Actually he kind of lets them. It’s late, they’re tired after so much time searching for the egg, his throat is starting to itch from the yelling, and the poor community house is completely filled with mud. It’s also been a few weeks since he had so much movement, so he gets tired a little quicker than usual. (In the future he wouldn’t have dreamt of running as much as he just did, but he was starting to get used to his stamina in the present time, and he didn’t like feeling tired so quickly). That’s why, when Sapnap dashes towards him, boosting himself with a wall, he slows down just enough for his friend to catch him by the arm, pulling him towards the younger one, sighing when he feels the black haired hybrid hugging him, accepting his fate as George jumps on top of them, half crushing them.

“Now that you’re dirty too, you have to help us clean!”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh.”

“Nope. I warned you two that you would have to clean up. I’m going to take a shower.”

That instantly made Sapnap stand up, dashing to the stairs.

“No! Me first.”

George got up next, dashing through the room. “No, me first! Sapnap!”

And he? He took one of the remaining ender pearls that he used during the day to follow Puffy and Foolish, appearing in the middle of the stairs, smiling smugly at his two friends who just look at him, dumbfounded.

“That’s cheating!”, “Dream you–”

“Later, guys! Enjoy the wait!” He jumps up the stairs, skipping some and pushing himself with the wall as a last attempt to reach the bathroom before the other two.

He sees two pearls going for the same place he is, and so he slides, closing the door behind him just in time for the two pearls to hit there. Both of his friends slamming on the closed entrance, a couple of huffs and ‘ouch’ making him wheeze.

“Enjoy the wait!” He repeats, louder, scrambling with the lock as to noisily announce that is closed for good.

“Well you don’t have a towel, jerk!”

“I always leave my towels inside, Sapnap.”

“…fuck you, Dream!”

“Love you, Pandas!”

_____________________________________

He really wasn’t enjoying his friend’s way to deter him from doing his work.

“Well,” Sapnap had said, innocently (as if) smiling. “George and I were thinking that after running all night, first from us and then to the bath, you would be really tired.”

“You two are being really petty.”

“So!” George was the one to speak next, continuing the phrase while he violently shook the towel over his head, drying his hair (in the worst of ways, prime, George, have some respect for the hair) and throwing water all over the place. “We’re letting you rest some more!”

Of course, usually that wouldn’t work. He planned to roll his eyes, go to sleep, wake up early enough to catch the two of his friends in the middle of leaving, and give them no choice but to let him go with them. What he wasn’t expecting was to wake up at around five am only to find the place empty, the two bastards probably skipping sleep altogether so to avoid having the admin with them.

Jerks, traitors.

He considered leaving on his own, starting a search alone. But everyone in the server had put a price on his head, not as literally as the last time line; he was supposed to be ‘under vigilance’ because he was ‘a threat to his own health’, and the only way to get out of the mainland was with someone by his side. (And rude! He could take of himself! He had survived for a long time! It wasn’t about quality, really).
Sure, he was a master at escaping. But having the whole server hunting him down while he tried to find that pest didn’t sound appealing, so he just sighed, went back to bed, and slept some more.

(It was weird, having so much free time when he was used to burying himself in work and activities until his inevitable collapse. It’s not that it wasn’t nice, it was! But some part of him just felt plain guilty for wasting so much time doing essentially nothing.

It gave him so much time to think, too.

And he didn’t want to think.

Not about the memories that are slowly escaping from him, not about his mistakes, definitely not about the blood in his hands.

Not about the egg. The egg. Crimson. Egg. Egg. Egg. Dream. Dream. You know you want to give in. You know you want to rest. You can rest. Egg. Crimson. Dream. Rest. Egg. Dream. Crimson. Give in. Give in. Give–).

Next time he wakes up, he gasps, then coughs some blood, because he probably over exerted himself last night and the rebound was starting to hit.
It was a nightmare, what shot him up so quickly. Not a terrible one, so he really doesn’t mind it as much. It was annoying, but at this point he’s used to it. He’s gone through worse. And even if the aftermath leaves him with a hand reaching for the roof and Tommy’s name in the tip of his tongue, and with his body feeling as heavy as an anvil, he just pushes straight through it and stands up, because even if he can’t follow his team, there are things to do now that he has the opportunity to leave the community house.

With that, the sun high up but still far from the center of the sky, and a lot of determination, he started his journey through his lands.

Visiting Techno was in his list. Just, not today.
He deeply missed annoying his rival, but the travel would take a lot of his time, even if he nether traveled, and he just had a lot of things to do.

However, visiting L’manburg is a nice idea. He goes there, and smiles when everyone receives him with open arms. Nikki all but drags him to her bakery, and Tubbo follows right behind, laughing in excitement, with Tommy following crossed-arm some steps behind, despite having the biggest smile.

(Puffy isn’t there. She’s probably reuniting materials for her own house, or looking for her charges at the court house. Whatever the reason, he’s thankful).

“Fundy and Jack are under house arrest, for the next month or so,” Tubbo tells him, biting a cupcake decorated like a red rose. “Although I heard Wilbur say that Fundy would be grounded for longer.”

“Should’ve heard him, big man! He was crying! ‘But dad! I’m an adult now! You can’t ground me like that!’” Tommy imitated Fundy badly, whining and dragging the words. “Of course Wilby-…ur. Wilbur, told him to fuck off and go home, and the bitch did so.”

“Wilbur told Fundy to fuck off? With those words?” He manages to say before having to clear his throat again.

“Well, no– not with those words. But he should have! I can’t believe that bitch held you at gun-point! That’s just so fucking shitty!”

He shrugs. “He was following Schlatt’s order. We kind of did the same.”

“Still,” Nikki interceded, frowning. “That was so… wrong. Just… I know they aren’t the ones at fault, but the fact that they just followed every order, barely hesitating… I just can’t believe it.”

“Well, you have Jack Manifold and a Furry. What were we expecting?” Tommy scoffed.

Not liking the mood, Dream clears his throat again and tries to change topics.

“By the way, you all did a great job with the- uh, the rebuilding. Sorry I couldn’t help.”

Tubbo stood up immediately.
“It’s fine! You should focus on resting!”

Nikki, the traitor, said “I agree.”

“Honestly Dream, I’m not one to say someone should slow down and stuff, but like, you got stabbed on the neck. Then the bug. Slow the fuck down, you idiot.”

He glared at Tommy, no real bite behind it.

(Crimson. Tommy with his mouth wide open, eyes just as wide if not more, blood sliding down his chin, down his forehead, staining his clothes).

Then, he blinks and shakes his head.

“I’m okey. I rested a lot. I just want to do something right now.” The admission fell easily through his lips, and so he bit down on a cookie, making sure to be unable to speak more.

“Well, how about going for some honey? I’m sure the bees already did some!”

Tommy grumbled, not super excited about the idea, and Nikki just smiled. He however, hesitated. He had plans for the day, (and the rest of the week too), but he just wasn’t sure he wanted to break the kid’s heart.

“That does sounds fun! Would it be okey if I accompany you?”

Nikki said this, looking straight to Dream, and while he knew it technically wasn’t possible that she read his mind, he also felt suddenly exposed. The pink-haired woman saw straight through him, and said something specifically to force him to stay. He doesn’t sigh, but it got really close.

“Yeah,” he says, letting a shy smile show up. “Yeah, let’s go!”

He gives in, because Tubbo (and Tommy, despite his expression) seemed really excited, and Nikki was just staring at him with this Break-His-Heart-I-Dare-You look on her face. That’s how, instead of visiting Wilbur after Nikki and the minors like he had intended, he ended up in Tubbo’s farm, watching at the Tommy scream in desperation as he ran for his life, angry swarm of bees just a few meters behind him, with Tubbo focused on his work, Nikki choosing to stay away, safe from the bees, and him sitting on a bench, excusing himself from helping because ‘everyone told him to rest, so he is resting’.

It’s fine. Tommy ends up with a couple of bee stings, a best friend laughing at him while poor Nikki patches him up.

“Really, Tommy,” Wilbur says, his guitar hanging in his back as he approaches the farm with a mocking smile. “You’ve done this before. One would think that you’d know not to fight the bees.”

“It’s not my fault one headbutted me! Of course I would hit it! It jumped me!”

“’Jumped me’, you say that as if it tried robbing you or something.”

“Have you been stung, asshole? Might as well stab you, it hurts like a bitch!”

“Well, just don’t get stung, duh” Tubbo says very smartly, winning a couple of stares.
“What! It’s the truth! “

“Tubbo, big man, I care about you, but say something like that again and I will chase you with an axe.”

He laughs. “Don’t worry Tubbo, people hate other for saying the truth. You keep doing your best.”

“Dream don’t encourage him.”

“Me? I would never!”

“Dream.”

“What?”

“I’ll throw you at the bees, don’t test me.”

“Ah, and the gremlin child attacks again.”

Tommy sputters, with the expression of someone who has been personally offended, like Wilbur had gone and stolen his cows and tinted his entire house blue or something equally evil.

“I’m not a child! I’m a man! The mannest man in the world!”

“Tommy that’s not a world.”

“Well it is now!”

By the end of their discussion, the sun was already on its way to hide, and a whole day had quickly passed.

(In another timeline, days went slow, even before he had lost way to track them inside the obsidian cell. Each tik of time seemed to last hours and he did so many things in a single day that rarely he had nothing to do; and when he did, it just caused time to slow down even more, letting him go through years of painful memories in just hours.

This time it did the opposite.
Where did the time go? The sun was just about to hit the middle of the sky, brightening all around, making everyone hide under leafy trees, drinking water like they hadn’t had a single drop of it in days, and now the sky was turning purple, some stars starting to show up.

If he were any more bitter, if his ego were bigger, if he took things more personally– and he was and had all of those things–, he might have thought that it was something bad, horrible, done specifically to fuck him over even more, torturing him by taking the best things away quickly and to leave him to suffer slowly.

But the thing about time is that, once you go so far, you understand that it’s important for the good things to be short, so you don’t get used to the feeling.
It doesn’t mean that bad things should be the norm, or that you shouldn’t be happy at all, but old souls know that you just can’t be happy forever, and the more you get used to something, the less you appreciate it.

He wants to remember forever this, he wants to treasure it and be sure that even if he ends up having nothing, one day he had this).

“I have to go help Puffy,” Nikki says as she prepares to leave, dusting her skirt. “She spent the day with Bad, doing her house, but there’s still a couple of objects she wanted to add, plus furniture.”

Dream waves, “have a nice night, Nikki!”

“Don’t be like this idiot and rest well, Nikki!”

He ‘hey’s Tommy, glaring at him (once again) with no venom while the teen smiles at him cockily.

“Goodnight, Nikki!”, “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight, guys!”

Tubbo turned to Dream.

“Are you going back to the community house?”

He blinked, not expecting the question.
“Well, I was hoping to do a couple of things today, but I lost track of time. I still have things to do.”

“But it’s kinda late! You should rest!”

“Yeah, big D! You can’t just go around doing everything in one day! Don’t be stupid! Go home and rest, you old fuck!”

Despite his mask, everyone can see the storm of emotions that go through his face in the next couple of seconds. (Doing everything in one day? Resting so early, at like six pm? Old?!). It’s clear that Wilbur finds this amusing, because to no one’s surprise, he’s laughing to his heart content while the two teens look at Dream very serious with their requests.

“I’m– uh– I–”

Finally, he closes his mouth shut when Wilbur slams– with little force behind it but still full on throwing– his arm in Dream’s back, half hugging him and awkwardly dragging the admin towards the musician.

“Don’t worry kids, I’ll get him safe and sound to the community house.”

“We’re not–”

“Thank you, Wilbur!”

“–kids!”

Wilbur, completely ignoring Tommy and Dream, who just opened his mouth to complain, drags the other man, handling him like a ragdoll, starting to walk in direction of his home.

“Goodbye Dream! Bye Wilbur!”

“Later, bitches! Don’t die midway, big D”

He rolls his eyes, and answers. “Bye bee, bye gremlin child!”

“I’M NOT–! Fuck! Not the bees again!”

Dream chuckles, and Wilbur snorts, both very amused by the resident chaos’ lack of luck. Once they’re out of sight for the minors, he half pushes Wilbur away, setting himself free from the arm, finally able to walk normally.

“Hugs reserved after the second date, or the cinema date.”

“Ah, chucks. Then I really gotta start planning, before George catches up and sabotages my ideas.”

“Oh, no worries, I won’t say a thing. I like fair play when it doesn’t involve me.”

“Of course, wouldn’t expect less. And you help with my survival too. I’m sure George would absolutely love to stab me with a sword repeatedly, and being honest I don’t like that idea as much.”

“Nah, he prefers long range weapons. It’d be more like… shooting you repeatedly!”

Wilbur looks at him, done with his shit, and absolutely loving each second of the stupid conversation.

“My mistake. I was thinking more of the ‘repeatedly’ part than the weapon part”.

“An usual mistake, yes. But it’s fine, you’re forgiven.”

“Ah, perfect. I was terrified of losing your favor over something like this, and just before the first date.”

“What first date?”

He coughs up, instantly stopping, Wilbur supporting him as he all but dies at the sudden apparition of his two friends, who should have been searching and not scaring him to death.

“Gogy, Sapnap! How kind of you to accompany us this afternoon. You’ve been disappearing god knows where this last few days.”

“Wilbur, I’m pretty sure I told you to fuck off last time.”

The taller one shrugs, a cocky smile in his face while he pats Dream’s back, who’s still kind of dying in the back.

“You did, but Dream didn’t, and as friends, we want to get along. Right, Dream?”

Of course, the admin is still coughing, and unable to respond, and so he half glares Wilbur, at the same time Sapnap and George look at the same man, unimpressed and low-key considering murder.

“Oh, come on. I’m serious.”

“Just get away from Dream.” Sapnap huff, getting near to help, just for Wilbur to suddenly drag the admin away, putting himself in the middle.

“Yeah, we don’t want another stupid squabble over drugs. Don’t you have, like, a nation to take care of? Now that Schlatt’s gone?”

“Hmm, yeah, you don’t know…”

“Know what?”

Finally, Dream stops dying on air, and so he clears his throat and straightens, taking Wilbur’s hand off of him, also looking to the musician with curiosity. The man isn’t smiling. Well, he is, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and he honestly looks kind of annoyed at Sapnap and George.

“Well, considering how everything started, we all voted that I wasn’t fit to be president, and I’m stepping down. Nikki will take over soon. We’ll take… longer periods before changing presidents. Like, a year or so, to at least let things get stable. So now I have more time to be with Dream.”

There’s a silence that doesn’t last long.

“No.”

George, the one who seemed like he was hoping for an opportunity to test the bow that he didn’t use on the festival, reached for Dream and straightened, now really annoyed when Wilbur stood in his way for a second time.

“It’s not really up to you, is it?”

Now the true silence began.
He vaguely remembers old friends from another life reading stories about a girl in the middle of a love triangle, and he always laughed it off because it’s not important. Of course this wasn’t a romance thing, (dear god he hoped it wasn’t because he’s so gonna get in trouble for flirting with everyone as a joke, oh god, oh fuck), but if he imagined one of those situation it’d be something like this.

The tense air felt really uncomfortable, and he had trouble breathing after his little attack, so he could just scrunch his face under the mask and pray to the higher beings for some miracle.

There were no weapons out, but the position of Sapnap hands indicated that he was hovering over his options, and while George was a lot smaller than Wilbur, he didn’t look any less intimidating that the musician.

“Uh, guys, not to– ejem… interrupt, or something, but this is really awkward. We’re all friends here, come on.”

“Yeah, Gogy, we’re all friends here!”

“I will literally stab you if you don’t move right now, Wilbur.”

He side eyed the musician, who looked more amused than scared, and who just shrugged, lifting his hands in mock surrender and moving aside, finally letting George and Sapnap reach Dream.

“You okey, dude?”

“Did he do anything?”

“Guys, I hate to sound like Tommy, but. Like. I’m a big boy, you know? I can take care of myself.”

“In the last months you got lost, passed out in the middle of the woods, collapsed at least once, and got found with severe symptoms of dehydration, you absolutely cannot.”

“Hey!”

“Wow, George, dude, you just killed him.”

“Besides,” The googled man glared at Wilbur. Again. “Whether you can take care of yourself or not doesn’t mean people isn’t going to try and take advantage of you.”

Wilbur just extended his smile.

(He knows that Wilbur is fully capable of manipulating whoever into starting drama once again. He recognizes the glint in his eyes when he’s having fun, and how his fingers twitch when he wants to do something more to keep the discussion at hand going.

But different from the other timeline, he feels something in Wilbur. Something that the man didn’t have before, and something he isn’t quite sure where it originated, but it was important, and it made the man refrain from pushing everyone’s buttons).

“Seriously, I’m fine. I am friends with Wilbur.”

“Maybe more, if the pizza date goes well. Saturday noon?”

“Wha–”

“No! Hey!”

“Sure. Tho… Maybe sunday? Techno threatened to cancel our sparring if I don’t go calm down his cows soon, and I have some stuff to do.”

“Dream!” Sapnap scream-whispered.

“Of course. Then sunday noon, you know where. See you then, Dream.”

Wilbur spares one last glance at him, winking and waving goodbye before turning around and walking away. He, too, waves, rolling his eyes at the little wink, knowing well that it was just a last push to annoy his two friends.

“Are you seriously going on a date?! With him?”

He pokes George in the nose.
“Calm down, George. Don’t be jealous, is a friend outing.”

As George usually does when teased, his short friend blushed and sputtered.

“I’m?! Not jealous!!”

Honestly, Sapnap who wasn’t very on board with Dream ‘going out’ with Wilbur, seemed to have forgotten what caused the whole discussion in favor of laughing of George, who was terribly embarrassed.
Dream just smiled, happy that the heavy atmosphere had changed so quickly, and just as quickly, he turned, once again walking towards the community house.

“Yeah, sure, if you say so.”

“I’m not! Shut up!”

“George, just admit it, it’s fine.”

“I’m not!”

“Just say you love me!”

“Fuck off.”

“But… like… it really is just a friends outing, right?”

“Yes, Sapnap.”

“Like, one hundred percent sure? Because I’d rather be best men at George’s and yours wedding. I don’t want a you-Wilbur wedding.”

“I’m not marrying either, Sapnap.”

“Oh. Okey.”

“Seriously tho, I’m okey if you wanna marry anyone. Just. Not Wilbur.”

“ajum.”

“Or Karl, he’s mine.”

“Yeah, Sapnap, we know.”

“Okey.”

“But you’re really not marry–”

“I am not going to marry Wilbur. He’s just being annoying. Relax.”

“I was gonna say George.”

“We’re not marrying, Sapnap.”

“Sure, you say that now. But what if–”

“Sapnap, I swear to god.”

“Okey. Sorry. I’m sorry!”

Chapter Text

Slowly but sure, days go by, unbothered by his worries.
One day he’s visiting Punz and Ponk, without really entering the courthouse, and the next, he accompanies all minors (Purpled, Tubbo and Tommy) to the nether to help them raid two bastions, taking only the god apple that was in one of the chests for himself. He reunites the materials for the rehabilitation center with Callahan, gives them to Foolish, and annoys Techno and Philza on the farm, too.

George is now actively not letting him join the search because “You should rest more”, and “Why don’t you ask Wilbur to let you search for the egg with him, huh?”, the jealous jerk. (It hurts, a little. A little too much).

He’s also avoiding to see Puffy, and putting on hold his visit to Schlatt and Quackity, because he really doesn’t want to see any of the three mentioned before.

Today, in his desperation for doing something that does not include seeing someone he’s resentful of, he decided to visit Fundy.
Not Jack; he doesn’t hate the man, or anything. It’s just that they’ve never been close, barely even spoke at all, and it’d be really awkward to go and stand in his house ominously after the other held his friends (meaning both their friends, because Jack was supposed to be friends with Wilbur and specially Tommy and Tubbo too), so he’s not going to.

Fortunately, it’s not hard to find Fundy for two reasons: one, no one minds answering his questions, and two, the fox hybrid is in house arrest.

Nikki supplies him with a bag of cookies, and he ‘steals’ (under Tubbo’s supervision and approval) some honey for a tea party that he’s gonna have whether Fundy wants it or not. (He’s bringing coffee too, he’s not a complete jerk. He’s not sure if Fundy drinks either, but he’s still giving him options).

It’s not really surprising to find that there’s no one to secure the house when he arrives, so he just pushes the thought of greeting anyone else with cookies and outright goes to knock on Fundy’s door.

“Coming!” The fox hybrid’s voice echoes around the house.

He hums in response, fully knowing that Fundy won’t hear him, and he just kind of lays against the wall, hearing the steps quickly approaching.

“Dad, I already told you tha– Eeep!” Fundy yelps, jumping away and leaving the door open. “D-…Dream!”

“Hey, Fundy!”

Dream doesn’t really sound threatening, but his greeting still causes the poor hybrid to give a step back and make a face like he just say someone kicking puppies.

“He- hey Dream! Fan– uh… Fancy… Fancy seeing you here!”

There’s a pause.
Of course Dream knows exactly what he came to do here, but not wanting to just barge in and give an aneurism to Fundy, he kind of waits outside for the fox to invite him, but seconds pass by and the atmosphere gets kind of tense and the silence gets more awkward by the tik, so he clears his throat and ends up asking;

“Can I come in? I think we need to talk. I brought, uh, cookies. And honey, tea and coffee, if you want any.”

That makes the other man come back to reality. He straightens and hastily nods several times.

“Yeah! yes! Come in!” Fundy moves to the side, leaving some space for the admin to enter.

As always, his expression goes unnoticed, concealed by the mask, but nevertheless he lets a sheepish and kind of ashamed face form. He walks in, letting Fundy close the door behind him without looking back, (and he feels bad because he knows that faking trust is just to manipulate Fundy but it’s the easiest way to make the other one relax). (It pays out. He’s sure that Fundy doesn’t even notice, but his shoulders fall slightly, air that the hybrid didn’t even realized he was containing finally free to leave the fox’s lungs).

“Oh, your house is pretty.”

“Thanks! It went through… renovations, after… you know.”

“Yeah.”

The air becomes awkward again as Fundy guides him to the dining room.
There’s a vague memory in his head of a woman telling him that you can learn almost everything about a person by seeing their house, and he agrees; it’s mostly clean, cream colors painting the walls, some wires scattered in the ground, same as some tools that are just in the ground, or on top of furniture. There’s a lot of photos, some with little fire damage, some smoked but complete, and some that look like new. There’s something covered by a sheet in a far corner, and he can hear music coming from the second floor.

He sits down, leaving the cookies and the bottle filled with honey on the table.

“Uh– ah… Do you… want me to make the tea? Or the coffee?”

“Sure!” is his answer, and he kind of spaces out for a second or two before realizing that it was a question of which and not a question of yes or no. “I… is tea okey?”

“Yeah! yeah. Just, give me a minute, I’ll go boil the water.”

Fundy flies. He goes so fast to the kitchen that he could’ve wondered if Ranboo was actually the only one who could teleport. He understands, of course. This situation isn’t easy. Last time they were near each other, Fundy threatened to kill him if he didn’t comply to Schlatt’s orders, and then Dream proceeded to completely fuck everything up and let Quackity explode L’manburg. It’d be weird if they just acted like old friends and enjoyed the afternoon talking about some of Fundy’s project, or Dream current mission with the egg (that was still missing, Nether running as always and not a single root to prove that the big pest was around).

There’s some noise in the kitchen. Metal clashing, maybe a spoon falling, the hybrid murmuring some stuff high enough to be heard but not to be understood.

And Dream? Well he had nothing to do, and that was making him anxious. Looking around wasn’t interesting enough, and besides tapping everything and wiggling in his seat, there wasn’t a whole lot to do.

The higher beings listen to his desperation after a few minutes, and Fundy soon comes with a teapot and two cups and three small spoons, setting them down on the table.

“Do you prefer the tea or the coffee?” He asks as he goes through his things searching for either of the two things, finding first the small paper bags with the tea, and then the recipient with the smashed coffee beans.

“Uh… tea?”

It was a question, and he lifted a brow, staring in confusion for a few seconds before remembering that, to Fundy, it was just a judgmental smiley face on top of a white mask. He took the two bags out, passing one to the fox hybrid (who mumbles a weak ‘thanks’) and taking one for himself. Fundy poured water for the two, sliding one of the cups and spoons his way. With the (burning, shit, and today that he wasn’t wearing any gloves) cup of water in his hand, the only other thing to do is to put the tea bag inside, and he does just that because as much of an idiot he might be, he knows how to do tea like this.

Then, because he’s not a super fan of leaf water, he takes the spoon that’s meant for the honey and proceeds to convert his cup of tea into a cup of honey with a little of tea on top.

Fundy is trying hard to conceal a smile, failing hard, but he doesn’t mind, pretending not to notice at the amusement of the hybrid fox, who soon does the same as he does, with a little (lot) less honey.

“So,” Dream says, unfortunately killing the sweet atmosphere that formed thanks to his idiocy, letting the spoon clink with the cup as he stirs his weird drink. “Like I said, I feel like we need to talk.”

Fundy, uncomfortable, looks away, nodding softly.

“Hey, relax, I just kinda want to know what happened.”

The fox hybrid takes a deep breath before speaking.
“I… well. I was trying to act as a spy. Nobody knew what side I was on, and I thought that maybe I could just… act as Schlatt’s friend, or something, and just sabotage anything that he asked me to do. And when the time came, just… force him to give up. Break whatever he had on plan to use against dad and the rest in a crucial moment. I didn’t know a lot about the festival, it went pretty last minute, and I wasn’t sure if we could win so I… I thought that following orders was for the best. So Jack wouldn’t shoot dad or Tommy. I’m… sorry I threatened you.”

Dream hums in response, analyzing everything that Fundy just admitted to.
It… made sense. Fundy wasn’t one to support bad stuff, generally looking to do the good thing, even if he usually ended up siding with jerks. (Quackity, usually he ended up siding with Quackity).

“I see.” Is the only thing he can say, lifting the mask and drinking the tea in silence.

It probably wasn’t the smart thing to do, the thought only crossing his mind when he saw Fundy shrinking in himself, a grim expression painted in the poor hybrid’s face.

He sighed.
“While I’m not happy you pointed the bow at me, and that you dragged me anywhere near Quackity, I understand your reasons.”

The fox ears rose up, and the hybrid’s head followed.

“It doesn’t mean you did good,” he shoots, making the other man slouch, but nod too. “But I kinda did the same, helping Schlatt get the damn TNT. We both get a punishment for it, I guess It’s fine.”

That makes Fundy frown.

“I think your ‘punishment’ was overboard. Are you okey? I… heard of the bug.” Fundy groans, frustrated. “I’m sorry. Maybe if I didn’t help Schlatt…”

Dream shakes his head a no. “It’s fine. What’s done is done. Everyone else is fine. Better me than the rest.”

The fox hybrid still doesn’t look happy. If anything, it looks like his comment made the other man mood worsen.

“I’m sorry, Dream. I let you and Tubbo suffer because I was scared we could fail and lose L’manburg.”

“Fundy–”

Interrupting, the mentioned one continues: “No matter the reason, I did wrong, and you got really hurt because of it. I get it now, that L’manburg can be rebuilt, that our houses and things can come back… But your life isn’t coming back anytime soon. Tubbo is always going to remember the betrayal, and Tommy and dad are always going to be disappointed and cautious of me because i left them behind without explaining. Just… caring so much about a place that can be rebuilt was… really… stupid. Of me. I’m sorry.”

He blinks.

(He presses his lips, keeping the forced into a straight line. It was funny, hilarious, really, and if he didn’t control it, he’d show his deranged side to poor Fundy who was apologizing.

But, higher beings, he could’ve had the laugh of his life thanks to this. To think that the lesson that he tried to hammer and bomb and slash into everyone’s brain in his original timeline had been learned so easily in this new attempt.

To think that the months he spent alone, fighting his way through life, to survive, to protect, trying to make them understand, to make them rise up, to make them stronger and smarter, all were for nothing. That he was beaten bloody and killed for a lesson he tried so hard to teach them; that everything they cared about was the wrong subject. That their obsession with items and places and things was mislaid. That the obsession should become care should become love, and not for dumb material things, but for each other.

He gave his lives.

He gave everything.

And here he was, in the past, giving his everything again just to be slapped with the realization that the only way everyone would ever learn this was through his death.

A smile pushed. It didn’t appear but it pushed, wanting to come out, and honestly, he wanted to let the bitter sign out, because gods above, wasn’t that just perfect? Wasn’t this what that god wanted? Of course, if there was something he could do to fix the world, it was dying.

He just wondered how long until the next lesson had to be learnt).

“It’s okey, Fundy”.

In his hand, a small dandelion materialized, and he gave it to the fox as a peace offer, who smiled, a small hint of sadness hidden in his eyes, but not a word coming from his mouth.

“Everyone can learn, can be better. And everyone too deserves to heal from what happened.”

‘But me’, is the thing lost from his sentence. ‘Everyone but me’. And the guilt and anger and disappointment form a storm in his head, the eyes of every dead and corrupted person from the original timeline burning his neck, the crimson in his hands starting to itch, the voice of the egg starting to get higher and higher in the back of his head, starting like a whisper that soon is the only thing to be heard.
He sees Fundy speaking, and he only catches up a ‘Thank you’ out of everything the hybrid says, nodding and forcing a smile.

Fundy, none the wiser, takes this well and continues drinking his own tea, and Dream, suddenly feeling very exhausted, zones out. They talk, and talk, and he listens to Fundy speak about a new machine, and he listens about a movie that Fundy loves and wants to see with Dream one day, and he just nods along, with his eyes lost into the infinite and not really understanding where he is or what he’s doing, his whole body in auto-pilot. It’s starting to get late, (if he were conscious, he’d notice that’s around five pm, and that Fundy is starting to notice his state of dissociation and is very worried. But he’s not, and so for him the only thing that exist is the emptiness in his chest and the voice in his head, his voice, reminding him that he’s only meant to live as long as he’s useful), when he just mutters an ‘I have to go. Thanks for letting me visit’, and waves as a goodbye, taking a bunch of loose cookies from the table before going for the door.

He doesn’t know if the other man answers, or if he tries to accompany him, or anything, because soon the border of his eyes is filled with dark shadows and vines that aren’t really there, and the only thing he can hear is screaming and a ringing noise, and he blinks a second and when he’s back into reality, he’s sitting in the ground, in the middle of the community house, his hand filled with scratches and injuries and lots of blood.

(How did he got there? When? Why is there blood? Why does everything hurt? Why does his hands burn? Why is the crimson expanding? Why- why- why-?).

And he gasps, because the fact that there’s a knife by his side reveals that he’s the bastard guilty of injuring himself.

“I should get a healing potion before they come back.” He says aloud, like a crazy man.

He agrees with his voice. He agrees, but still stays sitting down, enjoying the pain that grounds him into reality with each little movement that he makes. He closes his hands, forming fists and pressing, letting the blood sliding down his arms cementing the truth, and the aching setting into his muscles and reminding him who he is.

What he is.

A monster.

One that can only bring good with its death.

In the end, he decides to reach for a healing pot, and cleans the blood, and for the first time in a whole week, he stays home, alone, just not wanting to see anyone else for the rest of the day. He’s asleep when his friends come home, and if he’s being honest, he wishes to stay asleep for the rest of his life.

____________________________________________

He groans when he wakes up, body stiff, hurting slightly, throat itching, a regeneration pot sitting in the bedside table and his will to live yeeted and buried under the bedrock.

There’s no noise. Not even the birds that should be outside, or the usual bubbling noises that come from the aquarium in the middle of the community house. There’s sunlight coming from outside through his windows, and he musters all the willpower he has to rise his hands up.

There’s not a single scar that he didn’t already have, no proof of the breakdown he has last day before he went up and passed out on his bed for at least half a day. Not that it mattered right now, because his friends weren’t there to see.

(They left. They left him behind again. They went and searched without him. He’s alone and he’s useless and he should just give u–).

In a sudden movement, he lifts his mask up, and bites down on his left hand. He stops quickly, just wanted to check if it was a dream, nightmare or real life. He didn’t feel pain while sleeping, even when he dreamt memories of his time in prison, or chunks of the missing time in the eggpire clutches. So now that he has a mark of teeth, a small pain in the zone he just bit, and a lot of saliva he just kind of cleans up with the sheets.

It takes even more strength to sit up, and he could’ve really been a god after the amount of effort it took him to stand up.

If he wanted to finish his mission with the egg, he had to stay alive. And right now, to stay alive, he had to work, to keep those nasty and annoying thoughts out of his head.

Crimson, vines, he’s surrounded by bloodshot eyes and netherrack, and he just needs to blink once for everything to disappear.

(The memory shit, the lack of finding the egg, now this too? Higher beings above, you have to be shitting him. Can’t he just do his work quick and nicely without having everything against him? even himself?)

He cursed aloud, hitting his head a couple of times with his hand.
“I don’t have time for this shit.” With that, he turned, downed the potion, and fixed his mask, putting his hoodie on, and slamming the door open, not caring to eat something before leaving in direction to the courthouse.
He had a pair of bastards to see.

The little adventure is short. He’s usually quick on his feet, and today, feeling restless as he is, a ten-minute walk transforms into a six-minute walk, and soon he finds himself standing in front of the structure that currently holds Quackity and Schlatt prisoner.

Punz and Ponk are there, in front, playing something with cards.

“Do you… have a three?”

Ah. That’s what they’re playing.
Ponk looks his way, probably noticing the movement on the corner of his eye. Dream’s sure that Punz also saw him, but there’s no way to really know.

“Hey Dream.”, “Dream! Hey! Came to visit those two?”

As he thought, Punz is the first to call his name, smirking slightly, proud of his ability. In response to Ponk’s question, he nods and hums positively.

“Yeah. Figured it was time! I already took too long to come, and Foolish already started to build the rehabilitation center.”

“Oh! yeah. I saw it, it’s the thing near badlands, yeah?”

“Yup. We have a strong alliance with them, and they’re overall pretty good at defending. Besides, it’s probably better that they stay away from L’manburg.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

He walks up the stairs, throwing a couple of apples to both guards, who look happy for the gift.

“Anything I should know before entering?”

Ponk is the one to answer, Punz too deep into his apple to answer:

“Hum… Tubbo came the first week they were here, and had us separate them because Schlatt was punching Quackity. And Karl has been visiting to patch up Quackity, and bring food to both of them.”

He frowns. Schlatt? Actively hitting Quackity in front of other people? The fuck?

“Okey, yeah. Thanks Ponk.”

“Be careful,” Punz says, after gulping down the pieces of munched fruit. “If anything happens, or either of them try anything, call us, and we’ll be there.”

“I can take care of myself.” It’s sounds a little harsher than intended, but he exhales and scratch his neck sheepishly, to let them know that he doesn’t mean it in a bad way, but like a literal ‘I’m an adult, and a known threat to society, I’m not gonna die to two disarmed man, I’m fine’.

Some weird emotion flashes in Punz face (Dream fears that it’s disappointment, or disgust, but he doesn’t really get to see what it is), and the man sighs.

“Just remember that we’re here if you need us, for whatever reason.”

He can’t help but blink. There’s really not anything else to do. Slowly, he nods, and waves a last time before entering the building, a dumbfounded expression hidden by his mask.

In the distance he sees the two small cells, on opposite sides, and a wall that wasn’t originally there blocking them from looking at each other.

The first to notice him is, unfortunately, Schlatt, who is sitting against the wall and directly looking at the entrance. The ram hybrid looks like shit, comfortable but big clothes instead of the suit he used to wear, hair/fur sticking all over the place and big bags under his eyes. But his whole face shifts from a bored and empty stare to a mocking and excited expression. He’s quick to rise, extending his arms as if he wanted to receive a hug.

“Dream! My friend.”

“Quit the bullshit, Schlatt. I’m here to be serious, not to joke around.” He snaps, speed walking to the front of Schlatt’s cell, not sparing a single glance at Quackity. He really is not in the mood to keep doing this shit, fooling around with the bastard that freed the egg. “Did you know about the parasite?” He clears his throat at the end, and that makes the hybrid smile, to his annoyment.

Schlatt crackles, and lowers his arm, a fun expression in his face. “Parasite? What parasite?” The ram hybrid does know, but instead of caring, he just finds Dream’s anger hilarious, and continues to poke at it.

Dream scoffs, “You used a three bladed dagger, something that can only be healed with regeneration, not even healing. You had full intention to force me to die.”

“Oh! So you saw, even with all the shit that was happening. Gotta give it to you, you’re fucking good. Recognizing that weapon just by having it inside of you. That’s pretty fucking cool, huh? But hey, you’re taking it too personal. Maybe I just really wanted you dead, motherfucker! You betrayed me after all.”

He refrains from slamming the bars, or stomping on the floor, but not because he doesn’t want to. He just can’t be seen acting like a child, no matter how desperate he is to hit something.

“I said quit the bullshit. If you had the revival book, I can fucking believe that you had more shit. What else did you find, and where?”

“Hmm. I don’t know, Dream. What are you willing to give me? I already lost so much because of you. Why should I give you that information?”

Dream grits his teeth.
Personally, he was kinda thinking on going back to violence. Everyone would probably turn a blind eye on this. Everyone did when Dream was the one in the ground, so he was sure everyone would do the same for Schlatt.

His fingers fiddled in a hopeful way, the sensation of an axe missing from his hands. Would it be so bad? This was far more important than himself and his peace of mind. Everyone would understand, and if anything, it’d be just one life. Wouldn’t that be fair? Wouldn’t it be even more than fair, considering that he was knowingly endangering the whole server?

‘Give in, Dream. Give in. Come to me, Ender. Give in. Give in give in give–’

He sighs, crossing his arms and just judging the man in front of him.

“I have other stuff to do, Schlatt. Just answer me.”

The man just shrugs and sits back down, appearing to be bored.
“Maybe, I don’t know. Why should I care?”

“Well, if you know, I’m sure you also have to know how dangerous it is?”

“Please, Dream, I’m not fucking stupid. Like I’m going to believe any shit you say.”

He inhales deeply, suddenly wanting to take out his axe again. There’s just no way this fucking idiot just went and freed the egg without knowing how dangerous it was. This is just a joke, the asshole trying to get him to react badly.

“Schlatt. Why do you think I sealed that parasite inside of me?” He asks, pressing his teeth with so much strength that something cracks in his mandible, his tone slow, low and dangerous too. “For funsies?”

“I don’t know, don’t really give a shit. It had a cult, you’re an admin. I guess that’s why.”

His hands slide on his hair, lifting it and grabbing it, and so he fucking pulls, exasperated and wanting to commit murder, or to cry.

“You fucking–”

Chapter Text

The need to murder the ram hybrid is real, and he’s containing himself only because he knows that violence will get him nowhere but in another jail to spend the rest of his miserable days, waiting for the parasite to dominate all and then go for him.

“You fuckin–”

If he stops himself from finishing his cursing, it’s not because of the goodness of his heart; his throat hurts from the yelling. Plus, he’s well aware that Quackity is just a wall and some bars away, and he already screamed too much about the egg. The last thing he needs is another asshole trying to kill him to let a ‘just a cult’ continue. He also didn’t come here just for Schlatt. He has the answer; wherever the asshole got his information from, it was a good source, but not a complete one. It’s clear that he knows about the egg, but not about what the egg means, and that he just was using this as a punishment for Dream’s betrayal.

Well, that last is debatable. Maybe he just really wanted to ruin Dream’s evening even more. It seemed to be a common wish around the server, even if it was subsiding in this timeline.

A deep sigh comes out, and he just can’t find it in himself to care. He’ll get there sooner or later.

“Well, I’m obligated to inform you and Quackity that your verdict has been decided.”

That sparks curiosity in Schlatt, who looks again at Dream, somewhat more calm than just a seconds ago, when he was shitting on Dream’s hopes by letting him know that Schlatt really is just an idiot with delusions of power.

“Oh? Really?”

Honestly, at least Wilbur did fun stuff when he was the delusional one. At least Wilbur joked around and did stuff himself and had actual power beyond a title. What did Schlatt had to his name? Half of the knowledge about things in the server, and a lot of TNT that Dream gave him far more scared of what the other man could do than what he should’ve.

If they had just talked to Jack and Fundy, and everyone dragged Quackity away, maybe all the drama would’ve been solved quicker, in just a day or two. Fear, he realizes, is something that makes small things like something that could get out of control at any second. But now that the other man is behind bars, and he has an annoying injury in his neck, it’s easy to see that it was all bullshit.

It’s really easy to see now that he went all out on the original timeline over a problem that was easily solved, and he did it again just now, a few weeks ago.

“Yeah. I’ll tell Quackity about it soon,” Dream said before clearing his throat, ignoring a grunt that came from behind, passing the wall that’s on his back. “But about you? You’re going to a recovery center, you’re gonna go clean from drugs and alcohol, and you’re going to therapy. You’ll meet your new therapist around the week, don’t worry about that.”

The other man blinks slowly, like he’s wondering how did Dream had the audacity to say something like that.

“What the fuck?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, hope you like it, asshole. You’re staying there for a long while.”

He turns around, starting to walk towards Quackity’s side.

“Hey! Wait, wait, wait. You can’t be fucking serious!”

Bored, he looks back, staring at Schlatt and waiting for an explanation. The other man looks furious. Forget betrayal, and losing, and everything. Dream might have as well told him that he was ready to execute him tomorrow at the same reconstructed stage where he tried to kill Tubbo and where he stabbed Dream, and the admin feels like even that wouldn’t get a reaction like this out of the other man.

“You shitting me? Recovery center? What’s that bullshit about!?”

Dream shrugs. “If I ban you from the server, you might try something similar in another place. And killing you wouldn’t solve anything. It never does.”

Schlatt spits a laugh, his face twisting into a deranged expression.

“Saying that from experience, asshole? All the people you killed were enough? Feeling guilty about them?”

He freezes, returning his head towards Schlatt, a cold stare going so hard that the other man winces, even with Dream’s face covered by the smiley mask. Despite being frozen in place, his blood is boiling, and all the composure he regained through the conversation is thrown out of the window, murderous intent coming back.

“What do you even know about that?” He asks harshly, his scratchy voice croaking and hurting him.

Schlatt smiles, like he just took the bait, and he probably did, but he’s too angry to think about it.

“Oh. Does the truth hurt, Dreamy? Does the blood in your hands itches that much? A full family, murdered by a cold blooded asshole just because they were in a cult. Not a single hint of mercy. The records are quite… descriptive of their deaths.”

(He killed them. Of course he did. He cried as he rose his sword and cleaned his way to the egg. He sobbed while he held the body of the youngest brother, who thanked him for rescuing him from the egg control, even if it was with his death. He let the blood from the mother stain his robe while she hugged him, a crimson painted edge coming from a hole in her torso, shushing him and telling him it was fine. He closed his eyes while the eldest sister hummed the song that he taught her, stopping at what was the second of ten verses, life drained for her the same as her blood. He screamed when the dad apologized in his last seconds as a puppet for not believing him before.

He killed them all, and then sealed the egg, that laughed noisily as it told him that the seal would’ve saved them all if he had just spared their lives).

Dream opens his eyes, not remembering when he closed them but deciding that it wasn’t important.

“What do you know?” His voice came weak, hurt. The other man extends his smile when he notices that a nerve was struck, and Dream just stares at him with the exhaustion of someone that has lived for a long time. He clears his throat. “You don’t know shit, Schlatt. Whatever you think you know, it’s only your fucking delusion so you can hold something over the rest. I’ve seen this story before. I’ve lived it. You get nothing out of it. You live a miserable life, and you lose everything you have, and you just live to see your mistakes or die and have everyone forget you. It’s not even that you don’t have an opportunity to change. It’s just that you don’t want it. You’re gonna keep going down that path, hurting everyone who loves you, isolating yourself, and one day you’re gonna stand there, knowing that you lost your chance. One day, seeing that you went too far, and that whoever wanted for you to get better, to be better? will be gone. And you’re gonna be all alone, forever. And I want to help you before you reach the point of no return, Schlatt. But I can’t save you if you don’t wanna be saved.”

He doesn’t look back at Schlatt. His expression at that last comment will forever remain a mystery for the admin, but it had to do something, because the other man doesn’t answer.
There’s a part of him that’s aware that his sermon was mostly to himself. He’s well aware that that’s something he wishes someone told him before he embraced villainy. But it was too late. The only thing he could do now was try to do this for them.

So, taking a deep breath and supporting himself against the wall that served as a division, he reunited all his willpower to walk towards Quackity’s cell.

The man is sitting, his back against the wall. He has some nasty bruises in the face and in his arms that are starting to turn yellow and green. His eyes are focused on the wall in front of him, and despite knowing that Dream is by his side, he looks too tired to care.

(He wonders if this is what Quackity saw each time that he entered his cell to continue his little game of torture. He wonders if his expression was as detached as Quackity’s is right now.

A little voice inside of him was smiling, ecstatic that the duck business man could produce an expression like that, but it was quickly crushed by guilt, and frustration, and pity. He, better than no one, knew what that position was like, and that no person deserved this).

“Quackity–” his voice sounds far raspier than when he spoke to Schlatt, the itching in his neck easing when he stopped talking.

The other man interrupts him, not sparing a glance his way. “Save it. I heard it all. We’re going to a fucking recovery center, getting therapy, and living happily ever after.” He scoffs, the detached expression turning sour. “As if.”

He sighs.

“I know that Schlatt’s an asshole. He’s not going away anytime soon. We’re also not letting you two be on the same space, because even if you’re also a jerk, you don’t deserve… this.”

Quackity wears a grimace at the last word, but says nothing, and focuses on ignoring Dream. Relieved, Dream continues.

“Schlatt’s staying at the center. And you’re going to be under house arrest. I have yet to make those arrangements, but… It’s not going any other way. You’re still gonna have to enter the–” He stops to clear his throat and cough a little, before continuing. “–the center, and have therapy. But you’ll be staying in a house near the Badlands, that will be all yours.”

Silence. The duck man turns to him, a tired expression in his face. He can see the glassy eyes and the scrunched nose and mouth.

“Why?” Quackity tries to say, but his voice breaks midway. “Just– I–… Fuck.”

He shrugs.
“Like I told Schlatt. I know what is like when you’re being an asshole. Some idiots do it just because, like Schlatt. Some others think they don’t have a choice, or they actually don’t have any other choice. Whatever’s the reason, I had my second chance, and I didn’t deserve it. I think you two, that do deserve it, should get it too.”

There’s an ugly sob, and Quackity shrinks in himself, hiding his face in his arms for a second before coming out.

“Fuck you.”

There’s no true venom behind the words. It’s clear that the other man is angry at himself, and not at Dream. But to Dream it just sounds the same as he remembers during the hours of fucking torture and the desperation that he went through, and he can’t help but wince at the tone that the other man holds in his voice.

“I’ll talk to Nikki, Bad and Eret. They’ll finish the process, you’ll go to your home, Schlatt to–” He coughs again, feeling pain and something warm starting to fill his throat. He clears it, swallowing down the coopery liquid, and continues. “–Schlatt to the center. You two won’t be allowed near New L’manburg, you will have therapy, Puffy will come in the next two or three days to meet you, and after that, I’m never coming back to see you.”

Quackity seems hurt, but relieved at the same time, and Dream feels just the same. He’s not sure what kind of complicated feelings are rushing through the man’s mind, but he understands, somewhat.

In another time, in another place, under other circumstances, they might have been good friends. But on this server, and with the sides they both chose, there was nothing to form but distasteful memories and a sick rivalry, something completely different from the healthy one that Techno and he had.

They just weren’t meant to befriend each other in this universe. Dream would always hold something over Quackity, destroying everything the other man wanted, and Quackity would always dislike Dream for that, striking him down each time he could, in whatever form he could.

It was for the best, really. This way, they could both heal from whatever injuries they had inflicted in each other.

Quackity opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated and in the end closed it back, turning away, finishing their conversation. Dream nodded, and walked away.

Oddly, he feels… relaxed. Nothing like he had thought he would feel after confronting this two. Of course, Schlatt had been mad, but mad he could deal with Tommy, Tubbo, Wilbur, his friends, Sam, the entire eggpire, everyone. Mad was something he knew. Quackity devoid of emotions had been worse to handle than Schlatt’s mockery and anger, and thankfully, it wasn’t really hard to speak to him.

He opens the door, finding himself face to face with Karl, who jumps, scared at his sudden appearance.

“Oh!, oh, hey Dream! You’re already out!”

“I am,” he agrees, nodding. “You seem fine. Coming to visit Quackity?”

That surprised the time traveler from the present, who frowned in response, hesitating.

“Y…Yeah. Is… Is that, like. Okay? I know what he did. Like, I helped stop him and all, but if you don’t want me to– Like. I know what he did, and… uh-”

He interrupts the other man, shaking his hands in a ‘no’ gesture. “No! no! I mean– Of course it’s fine! Like. Uh– I’m… I’m not going to stop you, it’s fine!”

That made Karl relaxed, slouching slightly in a more relaxed position, and his anxious look became a sheepish one.

“Oh. Sorry. I just– I know that you probably don’t like Quackity a lot, after what he and Schlatt did. But I just… wanted to talk to him and… well, I ended up visiting a lot, I guess. But I’m not planning to get them out, or anything.”

“You’re okay, Karl. I trust you. Just be–” He clears his throat, trying not to cough. “Just be careful.”

“Of course!”

They passed each other, Dream ready to supervise the progress on the center and Karl going to visit Quackity.

“Oh, by the way–”

Dream stopped, looking back at the present time traveler, who was too looking back, smiling at the admin.

“Sapnap and I were planning something! Tell him to take a day off of whatever he’s doing so he can come help me please!”

“Sure.” He smiles back.

He skips down the stairs, (half of them, and half of them, everything in two jumps), bowing at the mock clapping in the background. When he looks, Punz and Ponk are smiling (at least he thinks Ponk is, using his eyes as reference) at him.

“I’m guessing everything went well? You look a little more hyped than before.”

He shrugs without erasing the smile that’s on his face.

“It went without a problem, although talking with friends after a bad moment always helps.”

“So talking with us would put you on a better mood?” Punz says, a smirk on his face.

(Friends.

He considered George and Sapnap friends because that’s what they’ve always been. He considered Ranboo and Karl friends because survival does makes you closer to other people. He considered Technoblade a friend because he was the only one to accept him after he went psycho mode on the original timeline. But here, now…

Can he really call them friends?).

“Dunno, Punz. Will it? Shot at me, what you got?”

The mercenary barks a laugh, the smirk transforming into a softer smile.

(He can.

He can.

Friends…

What a warm feeling.

Oh how he hopes it would last).

“Well, Eret’s been asking for you. We’re doing a ‘you’re alive’ party for you in a couple of days. You have to come. Their majesty insists, and you kind of have to, like, obey.”

“Ha! Sure, yeah, I’ll go. Just remember to tell me when it is so I can dress nicely.”

“Oh, like, you have something else besides your hoodie? Jeez.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Is it like a hoodie but a nicer green?”

“Punz, I swear.”

“Or do you mean your totally formal netherite armor?”

“I will burn your house down.”

“Careful not to burn your hoodie while you’re on it. We don’t want you to lose your only piece of clothing.”

“You say that as if you don’t wear the same exact white hoodie every day.”

“I don’t. I have several in different tones of gray, because it’s important to keep the trademark. But nice of you to admit that you do.”

“I never did.”

“You just said that I too wear the same exact hoodie every day.”

“No, I said that you did. I never said that I did.”

“Sure you didn’t”

“I– You– Whatever.”

His smile didn’t waver when Punz looked at him, smug. Quite the opposite, really. Ponk also seems entertained.

“Well, you going anywhere?”

His eyes go to Ponk, the one who asked, and he nods.

“I’m going to go see how much has Foolish done, and maybe send a message to Puffy so we–” He coughs, a little of blood coming out of his mouth and staining his teeth, making both men alarm, but already getting used to this, he just appears a golden apple and bites it down, letting the magic flow through his body, healing the injured vocal chords. So, once again, Dream clears his throat, taking the half-eaten apple into his inventory, and he continues. “So we come to the courthouse so she can meet her charges or something like that.”

Both men blink slowly, frowning and just generally judging Dream.

“Is– Is that normal?”

“Is what normal?”

Oh, he does know what they’re talking about, but the dumbfounded expression and the confusion and how they just scrunch their faces, questioning Dream’s mental health is just so worth it.

“The ‘coughing blood’ thing.”

“What do you mean? I’ve always done that.”

“Dream.” Punz warns.

He can’t help but laugh. “Okay, yeah, yes. That’s new. You know how the after canon death is.”

The mercenary hides his face between his hands, inhaling deeply (and probably considering murder very deeply too), before pointing towards him in a ‘boi’ question. Ponk just, doesn’t know if to scream or cry.

“I’m going to murder Schlatt.”

“You and all the server.” Ponk pitches in at the end, in a lower tone.

Dream rises a brow in confusion, before shaking his head and turning away, ready to walk towards the Badlands.

“Well. See you later guys. Take care and don’t overdo.”

“Same to you, Dream!”

“Hehe…”

“Same. To you. Dream.”

And he escapes, speed walking as he ignores the murderous edge in Punz repetition of Ponk’s goodbye, a not at all subtle warning.

____________________________________

Despite his breakdown yesterday, today he’s feeling very energetic.

Well, his normal personality is energetic. But sometimes he just doesn’t find it in himself to act on it.

However, today he does, (as long as he ignores the overwhelming feeling of impending doom settled on his stomach, of course), and that’s a good thing, because he has to do so much.

(Actually… does he? Like, everyone seemed to be happy and relaxed without him. If anything, his intervention had made things worse. At this point he’s not even helping with his own work, just roaming around the server looking for people to help or dealing with the aftermath of his mistakes.

No, bad brain. You’re clearly not supposed to focus on that! He just thought about that!).

Patting his mask as if he tried to slap the bad feelings and thoughts away, Dream decides to continue. It’s not the moment to deal with self-pity and what not.

“Dream! Hey!”

He freezes.

(Fully freezes. He knows that voice. He knows what it wants. So many things, it wants so many things. That voice inspires a fear in Dream that not even Quackity could, but he can’t even remember why. He just knows that this voice was the one that took everything from him).

His head turns slowly, with caution. There was probably little to be cautious of, because he was in the past and everyone was really nice and he wasn’t fighting for his life against everything in his own server, surviving on bitter feelings and desperation for better days. He knows this. But seeing Sam in front of him, (eyes forming a half moon up, revealing that there’s a smile under the creeper hybrid gas mask), just fucked him over in a thousand different ways.

“Sam,” He mutters, his voice barely coming out in a pitiful croak. Dream clears his throat, and repeats himself, straightening for the sake of fooling both of them. “Sam.”

“It’s been a while since I last saw you! You okay? I heard you went through a… nasty bug”.

Something is wrong.

Something is really wrong and Dream just doesn’t know what it is. It might be that Sam is standing in an unnatural pose. Maybe Sam eyes look a little off, a little too excited. Maybe Sam is wearing more black and green than he’s used to. Maybe nothing is wrong at all, maybe is just his head racing against his heart, both going so fast that he feels he might faint.

“I’m… fine. I’m fine. It went okay after a… uh… while. Just… had to rest.”

The hybrid gets closer, and Dream is just so… gone, that he can’t help but give a step back, to the other’s confusion.

“Dream? Are you okay?”

That makes him snap, if only slightly, and he stops.

“Yeah, yeah.”

A long sigh escapes him, and he forces his body to completely lose the tension, driving one hand through the mask and then his hair, all the way to the neck, where he leaves it to rest as he looks back at Sam.

(There’s this fear that stays in the bottom of Dream’s stomach, stirring everything in his body. His fingers are cold to the touch, which is strange because he’s been under the sun for a while. Everything in him is screaming to run, but he just can’t remember what the fuck is that makes him so afraid of Sam.

Sure, the creeper hybrid was an ass that let Quackity torture him, but never went too far besides not giving him food and water, and leaving him alone for far more time than necessary, but it wasn’t like Dream didn’t deserve those; it wasn’t like Dream hadn’t gone through similar stuff before. It didn’t make sense that his first reaction to hearing or seeing the other man caused this amount of panic. It just didn’t make any sense.

And here he was, at the border of a panic attack.

It was… pathetic.

Isn’t it, Dream? Just pathetic?)

“I’m fine. Sorry. Just… a little on the edge.”

“Well, I don’t blame you. We all saw that esp– uh, what happened. It wasn’t nice to see, so one can only imagine how much it sucked to be on the receiving end.”

“Heh,” He laughs, a small smile creeping up on his face. It sounds fake. Really fake. But there’s nothing he can do to make it better, so he just continues. “Yeah. It wasn’t fun. But everyone’s okey, so I guess it’s not that bad.”

The other man hums, (and fuck, no reaction is so fucking worse than an outright bad reaction), nodding along.

“True. The more people the better.”

Dream can’t help but frown in confusion. ‘The fuck does that mean?’ is the only thing that his brain can provide, and he can’t disagree, because what the fuck does that mean?

He doesn’t get any more time to think about it, because the other man looks directly at where his eyes are supposed to be hidden behind the mask, and he gulps as the hybrid continues to speak.

“By the way, I heard you invited Foolish and asked him to build a rehabilitation center?”

A single curse goes through his mind before he answers.

“Yeah. I thought It’d be nice to have uh… more people? Foolish is nice, you know.” He blinks before the realization hits him that maybe Sam is annoyed that he changed him for Foolish. Rising his hands in self-defense, he stutters out his reasons. “And– uh! That– The construction– building it– uh- like– it seemed like a good idea! you know– to invite him– to the server, I mean–”

Sam interrupts him with a laugh, making him feel ashamed for the sudden explosion of anxious excuses (and for doubting Sam, good old Sam that has been his friend for a long time and that only did what he did because Dream deserved it).

“No, hey. Don’t worry, you’re okay. I’m also more of an engineer than a builder. I understand. Eret too wanted some modifications to their castle and asked Foolish to do them. I really don’t mind. Besides, I’m currently doing something.”

“Oh! Really? What is it?”

“You’ll see, when it’s done. I’m working really hard and I don’t want the surprise ruined.”

“Okay! I’m looking forward to it!”

“I’m glad. Well, see you around, Dream! Don’t get bugged again, man”

“Sure. You too stay safe, Sam!”

“Of course!”

They turn different ways, but Dream can’t hear any footsteps. By the time he glances back, there’s nothing but an uncertain feeling that follows him as he departs from the place and goes towards the new building.

Chapter Text

“Dream!” Foolish calls for him from the top of the half-done building. “Hey! Over here!”

He looks up, a smile setting in his face at the other’s positive reaction, and waves, a silent greeting.

“Hey, Foolish!” he says anyways.

The building, even without being finished, looks amazing. Long concrete walls of a cream color, surrounded by pots and flowers and materials that have been dropped around, forgotten at the time, but nearby for when their time comes to be used. The clear glass that forms the windows let him see that most of the inside is empty besides the bigger furniture and some tools, plus a lot of daylight that indicate that the roof wasn’t done; that would explain why Foolish was up there. At the distance one can see the Badlands in its glory, far enough that the statue on top of one of the buildings wasn’t really discernable but you could make out that it was supposed to be rat. A fine one floor place that would’ve be used to secure Schlatt in a nice way.

Not that Dream thought nicely of Schlatt, but it wasn’t like Dream was any good either, so no issue there.

The demi god jumps down. It’s tall, but not enough for him to receive damage, so neither worries about the fall.

“How are you? You look better than when you brought me the materials! And that wasn’t long ago!”

A soft laugh comes out from his mouth, and that makes the other man smile wider/

“Well, yeah! I wasn’t running around like last time. Today I’m fresh as a daisy!”

“I see that! I’m glad!”

Dream gets closer to the building, touching the iron door with his fingers, the cool metal making him shiver, an amused huff escaping him. Soon, he retracts it, turning again to Foolish.

“So everything is going well? How is your house going by the way?”

“Well, the place is mostly done! Just the roof and the interior left! about my house… Well, I got a little excited with the recovery center, so I just did the overlay of my house. But it’s fine! I already have everything ready for it.”

“Good! If you need anything else, any material, or object or anything, just message me! I’ll help you find it!”

“Thanks! But really, I got everything ready, just need to finish this and I’ll go do that!”

“Regardless! Just remember that i’m here to help”

There’s no answer, but Foolish looks at him with a smile that softens, giving him a slight nod before retreating his eyes towards the building at the same time Dream does.

“It looks amazing, Foolish. Seriously. I don’t know how you do it but you always make an amazing job.”

“I’m glad you like it! I got some paintings to decorate around, and I think they’ll look great.”

“Sounds good!”

There’s not a lot of wind, but what little there is, it makes the plants dance around comfortably in their place, and the sun hits just the right place to make it look more alive. It’s a crazy contrast from Pandora’s Vault. The prison was intimidating, even from the distance. It promised a cold void and unhappiness. This place looked like a small cottage. Fences surrounded the place as a way to keep people in and out, but it just looked friendly and calm. It still was pretty much a little jail, but this wasn’t anything like his prison, and that made him relax in an inexplicable way.

Like all the weight he had been carrying just… disappeared into thin air, finally leaving him alone.

“So? Any idea what to call it?”

He hummed. Now he had one.

“It might be weird, but what about Iaso’s temple?”

The demi god laughed.
“It is a little weird, but I get the reference. Iaso’s temple it is then!”

Healing.

Hopefully it’ll work, and those who need healing will do so smoothly. Hopefully things will be better this time around, and stay like that once he’s gone.

“Well, it’s time to take a break,” Foolish said right after his back cracked in a way that sounded painful but probably was comfortable, looking at Dream. “Wanna go see if there’s any muffins left with the Badlands guys?”

“You know what? sure, I could have a muffin or two. But we better get there because if Bad baked some, Skeppy will devour them and we won’t get any.”

“Then what are we waiting for, we might not get any if we get more?”

Dream’s relaxed smile slowly transformed into an evil one, and Foolish blinked twice before bolting towards the city nearby, closely followed by an admin that clearly wasn’t running full speed.

“Oh, Foolish!”

“Don’t! No! Not happening!”

“Foolish! Come back here!”

“Stop! No!”

“Foolish I’m getting those muffins first!”

“No! I’m getting them!”

Thankfully, Skeppy was out, planning some prank if Ant’s words were to be trusted (and usually they were), too busy with whatever he was doing to eat the freshly made muffins that Bad had been getting out of the oven when they arrived. Just a couple of glasses set on the table by Ant, Dream filling them with Milk, Foolish sitting down; a nice evening where they could just talk about non-important things and let the day just go by. It feels so nice that time becomes a blur; one second they’re talking about the rebuilding of L’manburg and the newcomers, (with Foolish excitedly speaking of his experience the few days he’s been in the server), and the next they’re planning a karaoke night for the entire server, Bad screaming of the different family games that he could bring to play–

“No Bad, we’re not playing mass monopoly, it would be a disaster”

“But I have to win the pink ones!”

“There’s not even enough space of figurines for everyone to play”

“But the pink ones!!”

–While Ant is already making a list of the songs to add.

Is Foolish who notices that is already starting to get dark outside, scrambling out of his seat, surprisingly leaving everything intact in his way up.

“Oh no– It’s getting late. I have to go back before monsters start to appear,” A slight pout formed in his face, “I don’t want to deal with that all the way back home.”

“I can–” all three of them say in unison, laughing in surprise.

Bad is the first one to speak afterwards. “Any of us can accompany you if you want, Foolish!”

“It’s fine! I can get there quick, no need to worry about me!”

“Still, you sure you don’t want anyone to go with you?”

“Yep. You guys worry too much!”

Dream felt two stares on his neck, by the side his two other friends were sitting by, and he couldn’t help but extend his smile, aggressively ignoring the eyes that were burning into his soul, just looking at Foolish amused face.

“Well, good night, see you later guys!”

They barely get their farewells out when the demi god is already closing the door behind himself, leaving them all alone in the room. Dream, too, stands up, gathering the used dishes, a fine equilibrium on his right arm, where even a small doubt could make him drop everything, sending the poor plates to the ground. Followed by Ant, who carries whatever Dream couldn’t, he goes to the small kitchen, and together both fill up the dishwasher.

“Don’t put a lot of soap!” Bad warns from the other room.

He looks at Ant who shrugs and continues his work.

“Skeppy took a few pieces for… something. And now it does too much foam. Last time we spent a whole day cleaning the house.”

That explains a thing or two about his first question, but it creates so many more that Ant doesn’t look willing to answer, giving him a face that says ‘conform with that’, and knowing that no matter what he says that’s final, Dream nods in agreement, finishing the task at hand.

As quickly as they went to the kitchen, they arrived back at the dining room, where Bad, too, was done with his self-imposed chore of cleaning the table.

“Are you leaving too, Dream?”

“Yeah,” he clears his throat. “I want to check with Sap and George about something, and I gotta ask Puffy to accompany me to the courthouse before the recovery center is done.”

“Oh! True! Are you going tomorrow?”

“Well, if she can, I guess.”

He winces slightly at the edge in his voice that drowns on his itchy throat. Thankfully, neither of the other two seem to notice, and instead of frowning or having a negative reaction towards him, they smile and nod.

“By the way, how is everything going there? I heard from Sam that Schlatt and Quackity were separated. Are they gonna be together on the Recovery Center?”

Sam? But– Punz never said anything about Sam going to the courthouse, had he? The frown that he didn’t know he had deepened in worry.
Did he… forgot about that? It might be; he was starting to forget a lot of things. Maybe that’s why he didn’t remember Sam visiting at all while he was in bed? He inhaled and shook his thoughts away.

“Uh– yeah–” A lightbulb could’ve appeared on top of him with the sudden reveal he had. “Actually! I’ve been meaning to ask something.”

“Well, go on! Don’t leave us guessing!”

“While I was working under Schlatt, I noticed that he was hurting Quackity, Tubbo noticed too. That’s why they put them on different… uh… cells,” he hesitated with the last word, just in time to clear his throat, and then continue. “That’s also why I don’t want them together on the community center. It’s a mostly open space, so there’s just no way to keep them apart.”

“You want one of them to live here?”

He nods at Ant’s question.
“Not necessarily inside the Badlands, but close enough that you can keep an eye on Quackity.”

Bad’s mouth transformed into an o, and then into a soft smile. Dream cleared his throat, looking away from the kind expression that Bad wore.

(He felt the genuine care in there, but the first thing that came to his mind when seeing that expression were bad memories and a voice that was sickly sweet, talking about things that were best forgotten while he stayed in this timeline).

“Of course! We’ll keep an eye on him!”

A small smile formed in his lips.
“Thank you. I’ll tell Eret, to make it official. But seriously, Thanks.”

“No problem!”

__________________________________

He presses the button to send, and lays down against the back of the couch, closing his eyes in an attempt to relax, but sadly, the ping of a message being received arrives at the next second. He huffs, rising the transmisor and opening just one of his eyes to kind of see the answer.

Is a yes.

The details, (time, place, anything in between), had already been sent, so he didn’t bother replying, and instead he threw the transmisor a couple of inches away.

Monsters were beginning to spawn outside, and his friends hadn’t arrived. At this point there weren’t a lot of things to do. Sure, he could probably sneak out, but he didn’t want to end up fighting with his friends if they didn’t found him in the community house once they arrived, so it was easier just… staying inside, waiting.

Waiting.

He shuddered at the thought, standing up so fast that anyone would’ve thought he saw a spider near him, and walked to the kitchen, hands twitching in anticipation.

Dream wasn’t a cook in any way; a traveler as he was couldn’t focus as much on the taste as they do with the usefulness. If he had to scrap burnt edges, he would, as long as he could fill his stomach and continue his adventures. But during his time on the resistance, cooking was something he tried under Puffy and Phil’s watch. Weird days when they decided that he couldn’t just stay on one room for eternity.

So know he knew how to make a tasty pasta, and sandwiches.

And that he would do. If he couldn’t join his friends, at least he could make sure that they ate correctly.

(It was so much better than sitting and waiting, because sitting and waiting meant that there was nothing he could do, it meant that he was trapped and useless, susceptible to the ugly thoughts that his mind could muster while stuck on his cell.

Cell. Cell. The obsidian cell that burned his skin no matter where he moved to, or the comfortable room that wasn’t more than a glorified cell, or the small jail that held Ranboo and him, or the small dog cell where he spent days and–

He never noticed how much time he has spent trapped in cells the last few years of his life. One could just hope that it won’t happen again, and yet he knows, somewhere inside of him, that hope is a fool’s blindfold).

Shaking his head energetically, he decides that all his focus must go to the food. Quick moves, taking everything out of the shelves almost as if dancing, (as if fighting), humming something while accommodating the utensils around, a kitchen knife in hand, (it’s the same one he found in his hands the other day, but clean, sharp), as he sets down some vegetables, ready to be cut.

Chop, chop, chop.

The knife slicing through the vegetables and hitting the wood sounds softly around the room. Bubbles from the boiling water popping in a quick sequence, the noodles soon to be ready.

A door is opened in the background, tired voices mumbling as the steps get closer, and Dream is finally filtering the noodles, separating them on a different container where a soft cream is already ready to be combined, small pieces of green floating around the dense liquid.

“Dream?” George says, his voice tired. “What are you doing?”

“Go take a bath, and come down to eat.”

“You know how to cook?”

“You know how to– of course I do, Sapnap!”

His two friends shared a glance, and sped through the living room, trying to reach the stairs before the other. Screams of ‘move!’ and ‘out of the way!’ reach him, making him huff in an amused way as he starts serving.

Is Sapnap the first one to get back, his face scrunched in frustration and arms crossed.

“Stupid… dumb… George… and his stupid… face.”

“Hey, cheer up, you can eat first!”

Dream slides the served plate and a glass with apple juice towards Sapnap. The jerk has the audacity to look suspicious, taking the fork and poking the noodles, like he’s waiting for them to attack or something.

“You sure this is ed–”

“Sapnap!”

“Okay! okay! Jeez!”

Sapnap’s fork twists on the plate, the noodles and cream adhering to the utensil, rising with it as the hybrid slowly drives it towards his mouth, hesitation controlling his movements.

“Sapnap.” He warns again, a little more annoyed.

The other man gulps, signs in resignation, and opens his mouth wide, stuffing the fork in his mouth. There’s a pause, a delay on the reaction, Sapnap first closing his eyes in fear and then opening them in surprise, before stuffing his mouth with pasta.

“Wolly shwit!”, Sapnap exclaims, eyes wide opened (and with his mouth full). Quickly, the hybrid chews as fast as possible, and gulps everything down, before speaking again. “Holy shit it tastes so good!”

He can’t help it when his chest puffs in pride, or the way his lips curl up into an excited smile at Sapnap’s positive reaction towards his cooking.
The plate is empty in a matter of minutes, and by the moment George’s steps start to get close, Dream is already putting away Sap’s dishes.

“Oh, you cooked?”

“No! Dream! Gimme more! Don’t give George any!”

“You, Sapnap, have to go take a bath.”

Sapnap pouted, puppy eyes directed at Dream, who points towards the exit.

“Mean. If it were George, you’d totally give him more you simp”

It’s all the younger one says before leaving towards the bath, running before any of his friends can stop him or tell him anything.
Dream, huffin, serves George on the same place he did Sapnap, and the other man sits down comfortably.

“Did you learn to cook on the future? I don’t remember you knowing how to.”

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, I did, actually.”

“Cool. Knew it”

George digs in, humming in surprise at the tastiness of the food.
“Oh, it’s really good.”

“Thanks!”

The googled man just smiles as a response, turning back and eating in silence. Dream soon sits down too to accompany him while dining. It’s a relaxing time, really. A comfortable silence in the presence of George, the one he trusts the most.

(It didn’t go well last time, did it, Dream?

Don’t you remember how his eyes looked at you, hurt and disappointed?

“Just say you hate me.”

Weren’t those his words? Wasn’t that his belief? Didn’t you do everything to protect them only for them to push you away in return, listening to Quackity and Tommy? Can you really trust them at all?)

Clearing his throat, Dream leaves the fork by the side of the dish with the half-eaten pasta on top, feeling more nauseous than hungry. George notices instantly, letting the fork drop almost silently on his nearly empty plate, his head perking up to look at Dream.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah I just… still get bad memories from time to time.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

There’s clear doubt. A full minute, maybe more, of silence, and George sighs and opens his mouth to say something, when Dream interrupts.

“Sometimes I think of our fight.” The admission falls easy through his lips. He closes his eyes, and for a second, he’s back on the open, George looking at him with a face painted by betrayal, and Sapnap’s furious look directed at him too. “Sometimes I still fear that that’s our endgame. That I will disappoint you again and you two will hate me again and… that I… That I’ll be…”

Left alone.

Left behind.

Those are the words that he wants to say, but that form a painful knot in his throat, escaping him, running from him. Unable to continue, he opens his eyes, watching at George with a pained expression that stays concealed by his mask.

Thankfully, it seems like these days everyone has learned how to read him with ease, because George frowns in a sad expression.

“Shit.”

By the low volume of the word, it clearly wasn’t intended that he heard it, but it was just impossible to not hear it in the empty room.

“Shit,” He repeats, more cursing accompanying it in a hushed rush, louder this time. “I’m– fuck. I didn’t think– Dream. I’m so fucking sorry– Dream.”

He never stops looking at George, but the other man still calls him, trying to get the attention that he’s never lost, his eyes looking straight at the taller man with a desperation that he hasn’t seen in George in forever.

“I… We didn’t think about that. I’m sorry.”

There’s a bit of confusion. A moment where Dream doesn’t understand why George’s apologizing, and that makes George bite his lip at the realization that his friend isn’t getting the reason. He looks like he’s just been struck by a bus. It might be guilt, or confusion. It’s probable that George finds it obvious, but Dream just isn’t understanding why an apology is necessary at all.

“Dream, I’m sorry we left you behind. We know the search is important to you, and that you were conflicted about talking with us because of the past– future– that thing. And… we’ve being avoiding you. Even when we asked you not to do that on the first place.” There’s a sigh, then a groan.” Shit. Dream, I’m so fucking sorry. “

That makes the admin straighten.
It’s true. He feels hurt that they aren’t letting him help when this is his fault in the first place. He’s hurt that they’re risking their lives for his mistakes, and more than that, he feels hurt that they’re away. That he can’t see them if he isn’t waiting for them awake every single day.

He knew he felt hurt by this, and still, it downed on him like a bucket of cold water. It downs of him like he didn’t actually knew he was so bothered by this. Like he knew it in theory and not in practice.

He’s been pushing the feelings so far away that now that he recognized them, they just slammed onto them without warning. Knowing them and experiencing were so different. His eyes started watering and he hiccupped without warning. He was starting to cry, and that came like a surprise to himself and George, who immediately stood up and ran to Dream, hugging him.

In any other situation he might’ve laughed at the irony of George usually being so detached and now hugging him again, and he might have teased the other man; but it wasn’t any other situation, and instead he sobbed, hugging back his friend and accepting the warm and nice gesture.

“Guy–”

Sapnap’s voice was cut off, and in its stead, the younger one’s steps echoed on the room, and a second set of arm fell on top of him. He hiccupped once again, letting himself be surrounded by those he loved.

By the time he was over, exhaustion was already stealing his mind, making things fuzzy and slow. It was weird being so tired after a chill day, but it couldn’t be helped. The forgotten plates with pasta we’re cleaned up by George as Sapnap accompanied him to his room. It was unnecessary, but he appreciated it anyways.

“Hey, Dream?”

He looks back, his eyes locking with Sapnap’s even with the mask in the middle?

“Ye–” he clears his throat, and continues. “Yeah, Sap?”

“We love you. Remember that?”

A small, tired, but honest smile forms in his face, and he nods.
“Always, Pandas.”

“And rest well, you idiot. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Ahum.” He muses in agreement, supporting himself against a wall. “Goodnight Sap.”

“Goodnight Dream.”

Chapter Text

“Are you sure? Any of us could go with Puffy instead of you.”

“George, it’s just Puffy, she’s not gonna stab me. Besides, I already told her I would do it.”

“But– Dream. Schlatt.”

“I already went yesterday. I don’t care about Schlatt.”

“And… Quackity?”

Dream pauses, frowning at the question. He’s not annoyed, not angry. Just… not sure how to answer that.

“Besides, I can tell you don’t really like Puffy.”

“Yeah,” Sapnap agreed. “You always do… a voice! when speaking of her!”

“About Puffy?” He huffed, making a face under the mask.

“Yeah! That one!”

“You know, like. You don’t have to force yourself to be her friend, you know? If she did something…”

A deep sigh fell through his lips despite his attempt not to, and he ended up nodding.

“Maybe I’ll tell you about it, some day. Just. Not now. I’m still dealing with some things I didn’t even know were a problem.”

“That’s fine.”

“You two are ready?”

“Yup. Today we continue the search, tomorrow we’re going to Eret’s castle to celebrate union and stuff, and then we’re all together into the search, right?”

“Perfect. If everything is planned, then–”

There’s knocking on the door, and only one person that they’re expecting. By the window, he can see the colorful and puffy (because is there other way to describe it?) hair that sticks behind the person he’s dreading to see, but already agreed to it and now has no choice.

He looks back, Sapnap smiling widely, and George too, but softly. He can’t help it, but that makes him feel better somehow, and he too smiles before turning to the door and opening it.

“Duckling! hi!”

If he had any less self-control, he might have scrunched his face. The nickname still felt like a punch in the guts, but for the sake of peace, he just let it slide, not wanting to be rude or anything, a half smile that looks more like he just smelt a rotten egg sliding in his face ungracefully.

“Hey… Captain, Puffy.”

“Just tell me Puffy, that’s just fine, Dream!”

There’s a nod, and he looks back to his friends.

“Well, see you later. Be nice and don’t come back home covered in mud.”

“That was one time! And it was George’s fault!”

“It was not. Dream, tell him it was not.”

Puffy snorts, and Dream just rolls his eyes, amused. Crossing his arms, he turns back to the exit.

“Don’t cause trouble!”

“And you stay alive, idiot!”

“Yeah, sure!”

A small ‘click’ sounds when he closes the door, and he’s out. It’s not exactly early, but it’s still morning. Puffy smiles at him, nodding in direction of the courthouse, and he takes the lead. There’s no talk during the walk. Technically, there is, and there could’ve been; Puffy sure tried her best to speak to him, asking him a couple of different things, but as ashamed as he is to admit that he’s rude as fuck and just replied curtly, he just… didn’t really want to talk with her.

Soon, the building appeared in front of them, Punz and Ponk still on the stairs, a different position than the other day, this time playing monopoly instead of cards.

“You’re cheating–”

“I’m not, you’re just bad–”

“I’m not bad! I’ll have you know–”

“Hey guys.”

“Dream!” Both said in unison, turning his heads at him.

“Hey Puffy!” Ponk waved at her.

“Captain,” Punz smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. “Here to meet the jerks that you’re going to take care of?”

She, too, nodded. “Yeah! Duckling here guiding me there!”

Punz snorted, (and so did Ponk, on a lesser noticeable way). Dream laughed awkwardly, eyes fixed elsewhere. Not that they’d know.

“Duckling?”

Puffy laughed too, tho she did in a livelier way, proud. “Yeah! Someone was following me and Foolish like a little duck when we first came here!”

To that, the mercenary rose a brow, looking at Dream with what seem to be suspicious but pierced into his very soul, accusing him of something he definitely did but would never admit.

“The day you arrived? Same day that was supposed to be Dream’s last rest day? When he should’ve been home all day?”

“Oh, I didn’t know that!”

It sounds chipper, but it’s clear that she’s also judging him.
(It’s also clear that she doesn’t really mean it, the disappointed glare has no strength behind it, it’s just a joke, and yet…)

“Yeah. Uh. We probably should… get this… over with.”

They all laugh, thanks higher beings above, but he still feels like slamming himself against a wall. He totally could. He couldn’t care less about how he does it as long as he defeats the egg. The only thing stopping him is the amount of people that could witness that and potentially get him in trouble. Or force him to join Schlatt and Quackity at the recovery center. Which is infinitely worse.
No one pushes further. Punz gives him a warning with his expression, that this isn’t the last time they’re talking about this, (and that’s unfair, because he’s pretty sure that that day he was free to go outside), but leaves space for them to continue their way.

Similar to the last time, Schlatt is sitting against a wall with his body facing the entrance, and Quackity is looking towards the back of the place, ignoring any visitors. The wall in between is still the same, as is everything else in the place.

To some degree this feels like the first time he’s been there. It isn’t, and of course, he knows that. But it still feels like he’s never been here before.
He wonders if he did, on the original timeline, and feels like he might have, but he can’t remember.

Did he have a trial before they dragged him kicking and punching towards the isolation cell in Pandora’s Vault?

He’s not sure.
Surely he did. It was a courthouse after all. If they had one, they must use it, even for the worst of the worst.

Dream can’t remember if he actually had a trial. His mind blank at the attempt of drawing out a memory. No matter how much he tried, the only thing that appeared in his mind about this place was the last visit to Schlatt and Quackity. Nothing else.

Speaking of which, Schlatt glares at him before turning away, trying to ignore him. Now, a lot of people try that. Everyone has tried to ignore Dream at least once. Everybody could try that! But the thing is that it never works. You can’t just ignore Dream. And less of all when there’s nowhere to run. He’s annoying like that.

So he smiles wildly, and savoring the sweet taste of revenge, he skips to the Ram hybrid’s cell.

“Schlatt! My vassal! How are you doing?”

“I said vessel that one time, you fucking idiot. And fuck off.”

“Aw. Come on.” He clears his throat. “Don’t you want to meet your new therapist?”

“Don’t you want to get stabbed again? That was fun.”

He huffed, as if offended. He’s not, he’s actually smiling as if he was a little kid and someone promised to give him candy. Is he being an asshole? completely, but he’s actively ignoring those thoughts, focusing on the light steps that announce Puffy’s presence slowly getting closer to them.

“Yeah, no. I’m doing great. Dunno about you. How are you holding up now that you don’t have anyone running your errands?”

The other man turned around, and Puffy fell still to his side.

“Told you to fuck off. Asshole. You can talk all the shit you want, but I still killed your ass and I will do it again at the slightest fucking chance i have.”

Dream, bored with the threats, turned to look at Puffy. The sheep hybrid was frowning, analyzing the situation and not really paying attention to Dream, something that made the admin turn serious, if a little curious at the focused eyes of the captain.

“I think he’s having withdrawal symptoms. They’re faint, now. Did he drink a lot? As in, alcohol? Because it’s weird that he’s having them now, after a month of not drinking.”

“I’m right here, you bi–”

“Yeah, he drank a lot. Ejem. But what do you mean symptoms? He looks… okay? I guess. I mean, as okay as you can be in a courthouse.”

“Well you mentioned how he changed moods instantly when you mentioned therapy. There’s also bags under his eyes, which probably means he hasn’t been sleeping well. His hands are trembling, etcetera. Like I said, they’re faint now.”

His eyes found their way to the ram, who was trying to get his second life via glaring. Puffy is right. He hadn’t paid attention to it for different reasons, one of them being the fact that the asshole killed him and he wasn’t too keen on caring for him besides keeping him alive, but Schlatt was certainly not looking good.

Which didn’t mean he was in a terrible estate. He sure wasn’t looking bad either; extremely tired, and really angry at the fact that they existed, but he didn’t seem outright sick. That was good. A cranky jerk was ten times better than a cranky and sick jerk.

“It’s not a bad thing. It means he’s getting detoxed. He’s been eating well, no?”

Clearing his throat, he nods and answers. “Yeah. They get three foods per day. Not master chef level dishes, but they’re eating just fine, and getting enough water too.”

“Good, then it should be just fine. We’ll work on the sleeping schedule when we’re on the recovery center.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure they dragged you here after the incident, so we have no issue there. We’ve confirmed that you can be carried, when the day arrives.”

The bars rattled at Schlatt’s sudden choice to slam his hands against them. Seething, carrying himself like an animal ready to attack. Dream wondered if he, once, looked like that in Pandora’s Vault. If his eyes expressed such thirst for blood, and if his face looked as vicious as Schlatt’s.

“Fuck you! You– motherfucker! Stupid! Bitch– Ugh!!”

The man fell back, letting himself be dead weight against the wall, the fire quickly extinguishing, replaced by resignation.

“Get out.”

Once more, he looked at Puffy, this time waiting for confirmation to leave Schlatt and go to Quackity’s side. She looked back at him and nodded.

“Yeah, let’s give him some space.”

The ram hybrid doesn’t comment: doesn’t even react, just watching the wall, maybe not even that. Lost in thought, outsider to the world he resided in.

(He hated how much he understood it, how he related).

Similarly, to his last visit, they just turned on the small wall that only served as a deterrent from letting them see each other. Puffy reached out first to the duck business man, settling a hand against one of the bars that impeded the man from escaping. Dream just stood from afar, laying against the same wall they just crossed, not exactly excited to see Quackity.

“Quackity?’ Puffy’s voice echoed softly on the courthouse. The man rose his head, looking straight to her, evading Dream as much as Dream was evading him. ”How are you doing?“

A small ‘tsk’ came up, and Quackity’s eyes drifted away.
“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? It’s been a few weeks you’ve been here. I know it’s not the most comfortable.”

“Well it’s not like I’m going to be in a five-star hotel after the shit I did, huh?”

“You’re right,” she agreed, before switching the direction of her question. “But has it been that bad?”

Quackity blinked, as if confused, and looked at her in a sheepish way.
“I… guess it’s been okay.”

“Karl’s been coming here too, so at least Quackity has had some–”

“He-! he hasn’t! He’s not–”

Interesting.
The mention of Karl sent the younger one into a panic. For all he was trying to avoid looking at Dream, he was now against the bars, his expression terrified, a slight tremble that revealed how much strength supported his hold. It contrasted a lot against Schlatt furious glare, still leaving a similar energy.

“Wow- wow. Quackity, calm–”

Quackity interrupts her, once again pushing at Dream.

“He’s done nothing, I swear! He–”

There’s a storm of emotions making a wreck of Quackity. Horror, stress, sadness, a hint of something crazy and broken. Dream stops breathing for a second, because he’s sure that, the moment Quackity’s eyes lock on his, the other man is ready to use the voice.

(The memories of Pandora’s Vault that weren’t supposed to be known to anyone. That George barely knew, and that Sapnap never had to learn, and the ones that somehow were reignited by Quackity, that doesn’t know and still is aware and–).

“Please.”

His voice is small. So small that Dream almost didn’t hear it, so small that the request is almost lost forever. No longer looking at him, but at the ground, Quackity looks really different from his confident and crazy persona. Vulnerable.

(He really loves Karl. He really loved Karl and Sapnap. That made him a person. Maybe he wasn’t the sanest, or the nicest, but it did show some degree of consciousness.

Dream mind divides into several parts, each driving itself into different directions.

“How can a person be able to do anything like what he did in the Vault?”

“No one has to know if I pushed his buttons a little. If anything, they’re gonna hate me eventually, so why not start now?”

“How much did we push Quackity to transform him into the asshole that tortured me?”

“He’s more of a person that I’ve ever been”.

Spiraling out of control, the sound of static slowly rising in the back, crimson tones flashing out around him–)

A hand settling on his shoulder snaps him out of whatever is trying to fuck with him right now, and he shakes the bad thoughts away. For once, he is grateful that Puffy is accompanying him. No matter how bitter, he can’t deny that the only one capable of handling all this mess is her.

(It’s his fault, really, that she wasn’t able to do anything for him. Too far gone, broken beyond repair, pieces of a former protector that were stuck together with faulty tape and left alone to play pretend as a villain.  Who could’ve done anything to save him? Why would they even try?)

“We all know what Karl’s doing, Quackity,” He bluntly answers, wincing slightly at the raspy voice that comes from him, before clearing his throat and continuing. “He isn’t in trouble for being nice. And honestly you need someone who is good for you. Maybe Karl will be that person.”

Karl was that person for Dream. Ranboo, and now George and Sapnap. Someone who sat down and explained why the things they did were wrong. Someone who would not forgive them and leave it at that as if they did nothing wrong, but instead helped them fix their messes, and overall a motivation to be better; to strive to be the best person they could be.

Quackity, still on the ground, instantly relaxed. His fingers paled when he let go of the bars, and his flushed, panicked face morphed into relief. His breathing slowly started regulating and overall, it was clear that for him this was the best case scenario.

“What did you think was going to happen?”

“I… don’t know. I mean, we killed you for supporting those idi– uh. Tommy and Wilbur.”

Dream scoffed.

“So I should just take it out on Karl because you killed me? That’s not how it works. I’m not going to hurt a friend just because he’s friends with you.”

There was no answer. Quackity’s lips were pressed on a thin line, as if considering whether Dream was saying or not the truth, considering if it made sense. He sighed and turned away, tired of this place, tired of this people, with a small headache starting to form.

“Just… ugh. I don’t know.”

Puffy patted him in the back, and it didn’t make things better but at least it brought another thing to think about. He gives a step or two away towards de exit, ready to leave, but stops, aware that leaving at the moment might cause more trouble.

He clears his throat, and ends up with a weak: “I… sorry.”

The last part is muttered. It’s intended for them, but he honestly doesn’t care if they actually hear him or not.

“It’s okay Dream. I’ll take it from here.”

The reason is misunderstood, but it works in his favor, so that’s fine, too. He turns to Puffy, and mouths a ‘see ya later’. Her response is but a smile and a nod, and off he goes, away from everything that he’s too much of a coward to deal with.

______________________________________

“I just can’t believe you have like, an actual suit.”

“Oh my god! Of course I do! Why wouldn’t I have a suit? It’s like, basic clothing one o one!”

“I don’t know, dude! I’ve just never seen you wearing one, so I assumed… well, you know!”

“I just don’t get a lot of chances to use one. I’m not the kind of person that goes to, like, formal places and stuff.”

“And you only have one.”

“Wh- no! I don- okay, shut up, George. You’re so mean.”

“I’m just honest. You have only one suit.”

Whining, Dream turned his head away, towards Sapnap, who seemed to be having the day of his life.

“Sap! Tell him something!”

“What do you want me to tell him!”

“I don’t know! Something so he stops being mean!”

“George! Something so he stops being mean!”

He gasps, deeply offended. There’s no way for any of them to tell that there is a face of utter betrayal under his mask, but they giggle anyways, fully aware of it.

Clearing his throat, he glares at the youngest. “I can’t believe this. Sapnap, my brother, he stole my cows, burnt my crops, supported George! Of all people! And in my face!”

“Sorry, Dream, I just hate lying.”

He fakes a sneeze; a real-passing one, and they mutter ‘bless you’s under their laughter.

“Sorry, Sap, I’m just allergic to bullshit.”

“Dream, come on, just say you hate us.”

He stops.

Not just walking. Full on stops everything. No breathing, no seeing, no hearing. Just a full load of static and panic. Static and whispers that become voices that become screams. His vision is black and black and black and crimson and–

“Dream.”

His head lifts slightly, (and now he’s sitting on the edge of the road, not sure if it’s been minutes, hours, or mere seconds since everything disappeared for him), looking at George and Sapnap, both of his hands being held by them.

“Can you hear me?”

“Ye–” His voice cuts off by a knot in his throat, but physical and emotional. The frustrating need to clear his throat hits him again, (which is fair, had he been faster, smarter, he wouldn’t be going through this, and he wasn’t). “Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, you gave us a scare.”

“Did…” George licks his leaps before speaking, whatever he wants to ask clearly bothering him. “Did I… trigger something?”

A grunt comes from him, along with a short nod.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. You didn’t know.”

There’s a minute of silence where Dream slips his hand under the mask, rubbing his face.

“It’s the… uh… phrase you… used. When we… fought. And separated.”

A small shit that clearly comes from George reaches his ears, and he frees his hand from his friend to grab him softly by the shoulder.

“George, you didn’t know.”

“But I still– fuck. I’m sorry.”

“I’m serious. Don’t blame yourself for it. You didn’t know.”

“But I said that! I… our team…”

“It wasn’t you.”

“It was.”

“George–”

“Dream.”

‘Sapnap? “

They looked at poor Sapnap, that was uncomfortably holding onto Dream’s hand, the face of someone who was watching their parents fight about the tv remote. Dream snorted a laugh, pulling his hand away with no strength, smiling thankfully as Sapnap lets it go without a fight.

“Can… you at least tell us? What to avoid?”

“Well, if you don’t ask a lot of questions–”

“Dream.”

“I’m serious! There’s… a lot I’m still not sure how to talk about. I will eventually, but if I tell you that hearing of Quackity will trigger me, I don’t need you to push it until I tell you.”

He squirms under George’s knowing eyes. They aren’t happy about it, of course, but seem to understand his reasons, and against all odds, they agree. So he promises that later he’ll make a small notebook with anything that could trigger him.

He dusts his suit, and so do they, before continuing their way to Eret’s castle in silence. (Not an uncomfortable, or tense one. One of those that are relaxing and enjoyable and between family. The kind of silence that is filled with the tapping of shoes and the singing of birds and small insects jumping around. One that could easily become the greatest of silences).

“Ugh. Not him.”

Sadly, the silence is killed by George aggressive tone towards something he saw in front of them.

“Out of everyone that could be waiting for us outside, it had to be him. Not Callahan, or Punz. Not even Tommy or Tubbo. Him.”

“Dream!”

“Wilbur!” He looks at the musician, excited.

He doesn’t make it far towards Wilbur when Sapnap and George step in front of him, forming a small barrier between them, facing the other man.

“Oh, come on guys, we are close to the castle, just let him accompany us?”

“No.”

The answer was unanimous and firm, both of his friends barely glancing back at him with a disgusted face at the idea of sharing more than a single second of their time with Wilbur.

“It’s okay, Dream. We’ll get to sit together!”

That drove their attention back to the other man, a clash of hateful expressions versus a single condescending one that proudly stood in front of them.

“Not if I kill you before–”

Dream is the one that interrupts George threat by catching him from the torso as he tried to dash to Wilbur, a sword appearing in his hand almost at the same time that his feet stop touching the ground. Despite the fact that he almost got chased and killed by the googled man, Wilbur looks amused, not a hint of worry on him.

“George. Please calm down?”

There’s a minute of silence before his friend huffs and disappears the weapon into his inventory, making a small movement to let Dream know that he can let him go, and so the taller one does just that.

“Thank you.”

“Yes, Gogy, thank yo– oh shit– Fucking-!”

“George!”

Sapnap and him run behind his friends, who is just full on trying to reach Wilbur, likely to murder him if he actually does, the musician running for his life towards the castle.

“And that’s why Wilbur has a black eye.”

“See? I did nothing wrong!”

“I wouldn’t say you did nothing wrong. You breath. That’s plenty wrong you’ve done”

Callahan pats the older man in the back, and that makes George back down, if slightly, laying his body against the back of his own chair, and getting closer to Dream. Sapnap, too, dragged his chair slightly towards his sworn brother. The admin just smiled awkwardly at the monarch, that was amused by the entire situation, trying not to laugh for Dream’s sake but unable to fully contain themself.

“I’m surrounded by literal children” Is what Puffy says despite the smile that she wears.

“And you haven’t seen Philza,” Wilbur reaches for a glass of water as he speaks. “…which… by the way, where is he?”

“Yeah, he’s still missing.”

“Now that you mention it,” Punz mutters, looking around. “Still no sign of Purpled or Ponk, and no Sam.”

“Didn’t they said they’d go find him?”

“They did.”

“Well,” Eret says, motioning to the food. “If they need help, they’ll message someone. Don’t worry too much.”

That helps the rest of the SMP residents to relax, and with the question out of the way, the keep enjoying themselves. The lax chatter fills the enormous place, everyone comfortable with each other (if we ignore the small jabs between the dream team and the two sleepy bois plus Tubbo).

It’s not until some minutes later that the peace spell is broken when Dream’s transmisor pings.

The voices stop, everyone looking with curiosity at the poor admin, that was sweating bullets when he transformed into the center of attention. Clearing his throat, he took the machine out and looked at the message.

Ph1lzA whispers to you: hey m8
Ph1lzA whispers to you: you might want to come to the nether quick

He frowned.

“Dream? Everything okay?”

His body turned towards Eret, that seemed worried at the sudden change of atmosphere around Dream. Looking around, the monarch wasn’t the only one worried about the situation.

“It’s Philza.”

That draws even more attention.

“Is he okay?”

“Did something happen?”

A hand sets on his shoulder, Sapnap’s, and he looks at his friend with uncertainty.

“Is it…?”

“I think it is.”

Another ping echoes on the now silent room.

Technoblade whispers to you: loser
Technoblade whispers to you: we need you at the nether

The chair squealed against the ground when he pushed it away so he could stand up.

“Stay here–”

“Dream?”

“Sapnap, George, do you have the-?”

“Prime water, yeah-”

“I brought the ender chest-”

“Wait what is happening–”

“Guys?”

“What the fuck–”

As Sapnap set down the chest, the three of them grabbed everything that seemed to be useful for their small mission, under the incredulous look of the rest of the server.

“Dream–”

He interrupted Punz, his anxiety at the roof and his need to move making his fingers twitch, feeling like a wild animal surrounded by hunters. (Feeling once again on the same room where Tommy took his two lives and he was captured and dragged to Pandora’s Vault).

“Guys. I can’t explain right now. I will, I promise, but right now I need you to stay here and to not go into the nether while we get back.”

“Wh- You can’t just go off like that!”

“Yeah, you fucking asshole! Just let us help!”

A groan came from him.
“Please. Just… I need you to trust me on this!”

“But Dr–”

Wilbur stood in front of Tubbo and the rest, stopping them from getting close to the dream team, that was already close to the door, Eret stood up, and they nodded at Dream.

“Come on, guys,” Wilbur said, his back turned on the team, (and Dream could still hear the stupid condescending and sweet smile in his voice), “Let them do their work, we’ll have a great explanation once they come back”.

Wilbur’s head slightly crooked so he can look at Dream, eyes cold and calculating, a silent warning that it wasn’t just a stall, but a promise. It brought shivers to the admin.
Eret, from their sit, just sighed, rubbing their temples in frustration.

“Just come back safe. Please.”

A small smile formed in his lips, and Dream nodded enthusiastically.

“I’ll explain when we get back. So please be patient.”

And with his two friends at the side, and the handle of his trusted axe humming with enchantments on his hand, the time to face that fucking parasite came to him in silver platter.

Chapter Text

The trip to the nearest portal to the nether is short, barely a few minutes with they speed they’re currently running at. The air feels tense around them, and it only got worse as they got closer and closer to the entrance. The purple swirls and particles that floated from the obsidian door were the normal part; the supernatural part were the small red vines that moved slowly towards the clean overworld. A small dash was what he used to reach the place in time to cut the offending plants right before they touched the dirt.

“Shit.”

“Holy fuck, holy fuck–”

Without hesitation, he launched himself towards the portal, letting himself be swallowed by the cool sensation of the magic that was used to transport them to the other dimension.

The sound of his two friends teleporting followed soon after, but he ignored in favor of blocking an incoming attack from a wither skeleton. George took aim and shoot it before it tried to attack again, the mob disappearing into dust and nothing more.

“Wither skeletons over here?”

“The nether is–” he has to stop to block an arrow aiming for Sapnap, pushing him behind himself. “–acting up. Which means it’s settled here!”

George peeked out by the corner of Dream’s shield, shooting at the piglin that had attacked them. Sapnap took his shield too, holding it up as a barrier for them to advance.

“Be careful with the vines.”

He warns them at the same moment he slams his foot against one rebel vine that’s trying to tangle on his foot, killing it without a hint of remorse.

“We need to find Philza and Techno and get them out. If you see anyone else nearby, we have to get them out too, and once we’re out we’ll use the–” he stopped to cough, and continued. “–the prime water, okey?”

“Copy that!”

The nether feels hot; not usual hot, it felt far worse, more suffocating and abrasive than it should, burning deep into his skin as if he was close to the lava despite being so far away. Everything seems fuzzy, distorted, and there was a lot more red particles and vines glowing around regardless of the zone. The amount of mobs is absurd too, and whether they attack them first or not, all are aggressive. A true pain in the ass. They try to continue their journey, but it’s hard to do so with the countless projectiles and different enemies that are on middle, trying to kill them.

“Techno! Phil!”

He chokes on his itchy throat and the smoke. Block the enderman, stab, fall back, parry the fire towards one of the ghasts, push the piglin off the bridge, block an incoming attack, hit the wither skeleton, curse because it caught him and now he’s rotting with the stupid effect, kick the goddamn skeleton off the bridge too because it’s an asshole, block another stupid blow to the side, cover Sapnap who’s having a hard time with the zombie piglins, stop to breath, continue–

“Techno! Phil! Are you there?!”

There’s no answer yet, which means he has to continue pushing through the mobs mob with his friends to the side, not knowing how far into hell they need to go to find the two anarchists.

Step on the vine, push the enderman towards the incoming plant that’s trying to reach them, get out of the way so George doesn’t kill him while attempting to take down a ghast, block the wither skeleton, get hit again by the wither skeleton, push another asshole skeleton to the lava where it and its stupid rot effect can perish, drink a whole bucket of milk and eat a golden apple because his hearts are low and he has no time to die, push Sapnap away from another (fucking bi–) wither skeleton and slamming down his axe’s edge into that thing’s skull, dodge an arrow, use the shield to stop an incoming rain of arrows, cover George as he kills the stupid piglins that can’t stick their nose in anyone else’s business, (no! it had to be the dream team, the center of their stupid attention).

“Is this really how the nether gets with that egg?” Sapnap asked between huff, breathing heavily and killing a blaze. “Sorry buddy, can’t keep you alive if you’re trying to kill us.”

“Usually? no!”

“Then what’s going on?!”

“It’s probably focusing on the nether! some important resources are here, so if it cuts us off…”

“So it just fucking dropped an army on us?”

“I don’t know! This is new for me too! It usually focuses on the overworld!”

“Maybe it got stuck here!”

“We’ll see! Hopefully it did! I rather block the nether and live peacefully on the overworld!”

If it’s really here, stuck in the nether, it’s weird that it hasn’t tried communicating with them. Usually the egg loves to fuck with him, push spores into the people close to him and make them hallucinate until they try to kill him, but right now he can’t smell any spores. Just a shit ton of smoke and blood that belongs to the monsters falling left and right as they go through them. Besides the vines that are following and trying to trip them so they lose time (or lives), there’s not a single sign that the egg is actually there, trying anything. Well, there’s the ridiculous amount of monsters, sure. But the egg is more… personal, prefers to be there to mock him if possible, wants to let him know that it’s there, waiting, planning, doing.

This is so unlike the egg.

“Hey, Teletubby!”

He stops, skidding slightly before fully stopping and turning to the direction of the call. There stood, on a floating platform surrounded by piglins, Techno fending the endermen off while Philza shoots at the ghasts with practiced aim.

“Bacon! Fancy seeing you here! You having fun up there?!”

“Lots! Think you can match my count? I’m almost on the five hundred!”

“only five hundred? your losing your touch!”

“Keep telling yourself that, might believe it one day!”

“Easy to believe the tr–”

“Dream!” “Techno!”

“Okay, yeah, probably should get out of here.”

“Sap, George, cover me!”

There’s no answer to his petition, but as he jumps and starts building a path to the other two, both of his friends do a perfect job with keeping the mobs at bay. Most, anyways. (Stupid Wither skeletons that have to be anywhere but their dumb biome…).

“Can i know why you stayed here instead of, like, just going away?”

“We tried, but a ghast blew up our way back, and we’re out of pearls.”

“And as you can clearly see, it’s kind of hard to go down with the amount of piglins, so yeah.”

A small frown forms under the mask, and he kind of looks at Philza’s wings. The explanation then reveals itself, a few drops of blood sliding down the lower feathers, some staining the green fabric.

“Well, just cross the bridge, I’ll cover you from behind. Sapnap and George will stall for us.”

“How about you go first instead?”

The incredulous look he shoots at Techno stays behind the mask, but the message goes across just fine.

“Look, I’ve seen stuff, okay? I know how to recognize a protagonist and stuff, Dream. Last thing we want is for you to lose another canon life dramatically falling to the piglins while trying to save one of us or something.”

“Techno, what the… I’m… wha… what the fuck?”

“I’m just saying, man.”

Dream’s head turns toward Phil slowly, hoping that the act conveys nicely his utter confusion. The man sighs and shrugs, already used to this kind of random reaction from the other hybrid.

“Look, just, do it. If anything, I’ll pearl at the end, I still have a bunch of them.”

“Just don’t die on the way back. It’d be pretty awkward to explain, and if you do, I will totally use that to mock you the rest of your li-… No, actually you do that. It’s gonna be great material. It’s gonna be great material.”

“Go to the bridge!”

“Okey, jeez, relax, we’re going. Jesus.”

In the end, he does fall to his death (and doesn’t actually die, because he has quick reflexes and the pearl is almost in his hand for cases like this one). More than dramatic or painful, it’s stupid, and everyone is laughing, but how is it his fault that the stupid ghast fired the moment he stepped on the dirt bridge? If anything, wasn’t it their fault? (He doesn’t actually blame anyone. If anything, he finds the irony as funny as the rest. Just sucks to be the butt of the joke, but it’s not like they’re being actually mean about it.

Well, Techno is always a jerk, but that’s besides the point).

The way back feels easier, and it probably has to do with the fact that they have extra hands to protect their flanks, Sapnap and Dream on the back, stopping enemies from following them while Phil and George focusing on the sides, Techno slamming any enemy that dares try to stop them from the front, until they reach the exit and go through the portal.

Agitated, Dream steps on a small vine trying to follow them out, kicking it back inside and cutting off the portal with a block, forcing it closed. Trying to recover his breath, Dream looks at the rest; specifically, at Philza and Techno.

“Sapnap–”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Two bottles filled with prime water materialized on the younger’s hand with a single movement, (and he playfully glares at Sapnap when one of the crystal bottles almost falls to the ground, barely caught by the poor hybrid that just closed his eyes in exasperation at the mistake).

“Ejem.”

“we all saw that”

“No, you didn’t!”

“Sap, we all saw that.”

“I– you– shut up! Drink the water!”

A brow rose on Techno’s face, confusion clear at the order, still accepting the bottle along with Phil.

“It’s a cure, for the egg. Dunno if you got infected, but better safe than sorry. It’s not permanent, but it wears its control thinner.”

“The egg?” Phil asked, taken aback.

“You remember this parasite thing the chat told me about? The one that wanted to like, destroy the whole server and stuff? Like the villain of a terribly bad superhero movies with no other motivation than just being bad for the sake of the plot?”

“That was the parasite?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

The piglin hybrid turned to Dream, “Is that everything it does? No offense, I don’t mean it to like, demean your future where. You know.”

Techno kind of gestures, uncomfortable, as a way to refer to the events that the admin went through before going back in time, and Dream can only roll his eyes at the sudden insecurity that the other man wears.

“No, that’s not everything it does, and it’s fine.” He clears his throat and continues, “They both know. And I’m sure that you would eventually tell everything to Phil. Better to just get it over with.”

“Oh,” Techno sighed in relief, the air he didn’t notice he was holding finally freed into the world. “fair, yeah.”

Phil, on the background, drinks his bottle on one shot, (brows quirking up, probably surprised that the water has no flavor, most likely had expected to be disgusting or weird), and returns soon to the conversation.

“Anyone gonna explain or am I just supposed to, like, understand.”

“I’m from the future.”

Obviously, the poor avian just scrunches his face in confusion and incredulity, but no one else has a similar reaction, and after a few seconds, he coughs uncomfortable, not knowing how to continue the conversation, how to answer at the sudden declaration.

“Like. From the future, future? Or…”

“What other future is he supposed to come from?”

“Okay, I know it sounds stupid–”

“Yeah no joke. If the voices didn’t insist so much I’d think you went crazy or something. I mean, I’d end up thinking that anyways, eventually.”

“–But.” He harshly continues, glaring at Techno over the interruption, who despite the mask seemed to notice the expression, and drove his head away whistling with fake innocence, then downing the prime water. “It’s real. I can’t really explain everything because it’s a very convoluted story, but long story short, it started on the badlands and while we were busy fighting for power, it went and mind fucked everyone into following it. Then it killed the rest.”

“Like, everyone? Is there anyone who survived?”

“Yeah. Karl, someone who isn’t in the server yet, maybe Techno, we don’t know, and me.”

A small pause, where Phil hesitates, the expression of someone who’s just been told something ridiculous, unbelievable; like pigs started flying, and endermen loved to look at everyone’s eyes, or… you know… someone coming back in time. It’s understandable. He’s still surprised that anyone actually believed him at all. (Sapnap and George truly were a heaven-send. And Techno was a nether-sent. Appreciated, but still a hell of a person to deal with).

“Look, we had our doubts too.”

“Still do sometimes,” George admitted. “It’s just… really random, sorry.”

“Nah, I get it.” It hurt, somewhat, but Dream understood. He would’ve never believed himself had he not been in this position.

“But–” Sapnap regained their attention. “We just… It… makes sense? In a way?” The blaze hybrid huffs, frustrated. “The point is… It sounds weird. And we might not be sure, but we trust Dream.”

 “Look, usually I’d rather be the farthest away from this drama, because let’s be honest this is just a really terrible plot for a story. Like, wars? exile? everything over dumb discs? a child president? an egg that has mind control and kills everyone? That sounds like a wattpad fanfic from a thirteen-year-old. I mean. Time travel to fix everything? That’s just bad writing man. Just continue the story and let everything burn. But the voices haven’t stopped talking about it, and saying stuff like ‘trust Dream’ and ‘there’s another time traveler’ and other, really annoying, stuff, so like. I was forced into believing this. It’s stupid, but apparently real, from what we saw.”

Philza sighed.

“Is there a way to defeat that… thing?”

Dream stood in silence, wondering for a second if he should tell them or wait. His two friends already knew about the sealing ceremony, but the other two didn’t. Just… the less people that knew, the better, right? It’s not like they’d actually worry, but in the case that they did…

“There’s a way to seal it,” George said, stealing Dream’s choice, sparing a single glance at his friend before continuing. “We’ve got most of the materials already. Just need to find the origin, the bloom, and kill it.”

“And how do we do that? Ain’t it in the nether? Do we have to enter and find it? Because not to pop your bubble but that might be a little difficult. Do we bring the res–”

“No, no. The egg can control minds. It’s a little weird, its possession and everything, but like I said before, the prime water just pushes it back, it doesn’t stop it. The more people that go there, the more we risk an infection breaking out, the more we risk getting people against us and making it harder to reach the bloom.”

“So… we don’t tell anyone?”

“That might be hard, considering the nether is a hunger games arena.”

“Oh- shit. The others.”

The rest seem to understand what he means; they left the party after gearing up without as much as an explanation, and it’s likely that they’re all waiting for them.

“Well, I guess that answers that.”

Dream agrees; Everyone is already reunited, and the risk just skyrocketed. It’s for the better if he explains everything to the rest of the server during the reunion. It seemed like the only part affected at the moment was the nether, so that made things easier for a quarantine.

“Then let’s go, before they out heads for leaving them wondering.”

______________________________________

He coughs when Tubbo body slams– hugs him, his hand covering his mouth while the two minors start inspecting him for injuries, like he couldn’t keep himself safe for more than a few minutes. (He can, thank you very much). (No we don’t talk about how he almost fell to lava. That doesn’t count).

“Are you guys okay?” Eret is the one who asks, similarly checking everyone from afar. “Did something bad happen?”

Neither of the newcomers answer, focusing on getting out of their armor, (Techno incredibly uncomfortable at the amount of people that was in the place), while Dream just recovered his breath after the minor’s attack.

It’s then that he noticed Purpled, Ponk and Sam in the back.

(Sam.

Sam, Sam, Warden, Friend, Sam Warden Warden Warden Exe–)

“Are you guys okay?” he asks, ignoring the rest. “Did you go through the nether?”

There’s an outburst. Everyone explodes in questions about what is happening. Why did they leave? Why is Techno here? What about the nether? Why are they so tired? What about the injuries and burnt smell? What is going on?

A sonorous whistle echoes through the room, and everyone goes silent, turning towards Wilbur, the man smiling, staring straight through Dream soul with knowing eyes, before nodding and letting them continue.

Purpled takes the chance, and answers.

“We’re fine. We arrived a few minutes ago.”

Sam puts a hand on his chin, considering. “We took so long because the nether was acting weird. There were mobs appearing everywhere regardless if it was their biome or not, so we turned back, closed the portal and came on the overworld.”

He sighs, relieved. If they didn’t go through the nether, it means that they’re most likely safe, clean from the egg’s spores.

But his relief is short-lived, as voices once again start to fill the place, this time in the form of whispers, of a low confusion that weaves a web, slowly trapping everyone. Dream can feel everyone’s eyes on him, and he freezes, feeling how the slow anxiety starts to rise from the tip of his fingers, closing his throat with a knot that barely lets him breath. And he gives a step back, because he’s suddenly surrounded by crimson and vines and people that were no longer his friends or even his enemies, but just puppets devoid of any emotion other than devotion for the parasite that ruined his server and replaced the beautiful creations that the people he invited in had created for ruins and despair.

A hand sets on his shoulder, and he snaps his head, finding the relaxed face of George.

He clears his throat, and turns to the rest, who once again fall silent.

“I know this is gonna sound… really, really fucking–”

“Language!”

“–weird, but I have to tell you all something.”

No one speaks, everyone waiting for his announcement. Despite just having done it, he clears his throat once again, and this time continues.

“The server was… infected. By a parasite. It’s making the nether act up, and if we don’t stop it there, it might come to the overworld too.”

More mumbling, people questioning what he just said, no one trusting him because why would anyone ever trust him? He’s Dream the villain, the manipulator, the monster, the one that hurt everyone at least once and–

“A parasite? Like, what kind?”

“How did it got in? Did someone bring it to the server?”

“Uh…” He’s surprised by the question, taken aback, before answering. “It’s… I’m not sure. It’s a plant originated in the nether. It has gotten out from there before. It’s pretty dangerous. It’s always been part of the server, I don’t think it exists anywhere else, but it was sealed.” He huffs, frustrated. “Schlatt intervention freed it.”

Several groans are heard, followed by different curses and a lot of people letting their distaste for the former president out on the open. Dream wholeheartedly agrees with each and all single statement done by the people on his server. Fucking Schlatt.

“What does it do?” Eret questions.

“It can mind control. Spreads through vines on the world and through spores through people and creatures, although it mostly affects players. I don’t think I’ve seen a mob be controlled by it, but can’t be too sure.”

“Mind control? The fuck does it mean that it can mind control?”

“Just that, Tommy. What does it mean ‘drink water’?”

“Shut up, Technoblade.”

“Is there any way to stop it?” Tubbo asks, frowning with worry.

Sapnap tries to reach Dream’s shoulder, to lean on it, but he’s too short for it, so he falls back huffing and just drops his weight on Dream’s side, making them both stumble.

“There is. Prime water slows down the corruption progress and it makes its control less powerful.”

“But it’s temporal. It can’t fully hold it back.”

With that, everyone is asking different things. How to stop it, how to fight it, what to do if they find it. The plan is suddenly being created, and put in motion. In just a couple of seconds, Eret and Nikki are coordinating everyone, sending some to break the nether portals, other group to reunite prime water for everyone to carry, everyone following orders and sharing their input.

And they believed him. He didn’t have to fight for their trust, he didn’t have to lie about higher beings, or reveal too much about his past; they just heard and accepted it and started helping.

“And if we need materials?”

Eret turned to Dream.
“Could we form teams for that? Getting a lot of people in the nether isn’t probably the best idea.”