Chapter Text
“What’s up guys? You are now listening to… uh… Car Seat Headrest!”
“I’m so sick of—”
Dream’s hand slammed down on the radio, nearly aimless as it looked for the off button, finding it easily and stopping the music before his parents could wake up. The clock on the radio read 6:32AM , and Dream fell back against his bed with a soft curse, throwing an arm over his eyes as he tried to wake up.
“Shit,” he said eloquently, rising rather quickly. He had things he needed to do, after all, things to get done, including, though not limited to, making sure his brother was awake and quiet so they could go to school together before their parents got a chance to wake up and start the daily argument they seemed intent on turning into part of their morning routine. His brother’s room was right next to his own, and Dream had learned at a young age how to move between their rooms silently, so he made his way over and gently shook his brother awake.
“Hey…” Dream whispered. He got a grumble in response, his younger brother pulling his blankets tighter around himself. He tried again. “Tubbo… hey…” When he didn’t get a response, he sighed, reached down, and pulled Tubbo’s blanket off him, leaving the other boy flailing in shock at the sudden cold.
“What?” Tubbo cried, then clamped a hand over his mouth at his own volume. “Dream, what the hell ?”
Dream rolled his eyes, turned to return to his own room. “Wake up the first time I tell you next time. Get ready for school, we’re leaving by 7:15.” He heard his brother swearing after him as he walked into his own room to get dressed, and couldn’t help laughing a little.
Creeping through the house at ass o’clock in the morning with his little brother, on a life-or-death mission to get to the kitchen, was decidedly more difficult then sneaking the 3 feet between their rooms, but they managed, and Dream shoved a hastily packed plastic baggie of Honey Nut Cheerios at Tubbo before grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the house. It was 7:20, which meant that they were not only behind schedule, but also that their parents would be waking up very soon, and Dream did not want to be home for that, and he was fairly certain Tubbo was on the same page as him, as the younger boy let himself be dragged to Dream’s slightly rundown car without protest.
“Hey, Dream,” Tubbo started, sliding into the passenger’s seat and shutting the door behind him as Dream did the same on the driver’s side. Dream cast his younger brother a suspicious glance, and Tubbo fumbled to keep speaking before Dream could cut him off. “... Can I control the music?”
Dream raised an eyebrow at him. “And what’s wrong with the radio station?” Everything was wrong with the radio. Their town had stations that appealed to the very modest and isolated and old-timey suburban people that lived in it, and Dream was very aware of that. Most of the stations played Christian Pop songs, and the rest played incredibly tame country music. There was one rock station that reached their town, but it was so staticky and far-off that it could function just as well as a white noise machine.
“Your stations are shit, Dream,” came his brother’s snark, and Dream found himself holding back a snort of laughter at the deadpan tone he spoke in.
“Yeah,” Dream agreed, reaching down to pass Tubbo the phone charger they used as an aux cord. “Yeah, you got me there.” Tubbo cheered in his seat as he plugged in his phone and started playing some songs from a playlist they’d made together. By the time they got to their school, the third song was ending, the artist singing about waiting for things to change in his life. Dream would think it was dumb, if he hadn’t found the song back in middle school and decided it would be his favorite, which meant he couldn’t hate it, even 5 years later.
As always, Tubbo and Dream separated almost as soon as they walked into school. The main reason for this wasn’t anything malicious; their lockers were just on opposite ends of the building, and they didn’t share any classes because of their age gap. Still, they separated as always, and Dream made his way to his locker, where Sapnap waited for him with a tired grin and a low-effort wave.
“Yo!” Sapnap called, having spotted Dream approaching from down the hall, next to their lockers. George, the third member of their stupid group, was probably already in class; the asshole never waited for them, even though they still had 20 minutes before first bell and they had gone through so much trouble to get the three of their lockers to be right next to each other—so many poor freshman, shoved away from their school-designated lockers to make room for three juniors, one of which didn’t even care enough to wait for them to arrive. The cruelty of it all almost made Dream feel guilty.
Almost, because Dream would never truly feel guilty about anything that let him be closer to his friends.
Dream smiled back at Sapnap as he got to his locker, opening its ironically lockless door with a small laugh. “Hey. George already went ahead?” Sure enough, Sapnap let out a laugh and nodded his head, one hand ruffling the hair at the back of his head. “Dick. Wanna bet he’s sleeping at his desk?”
“I’m not taking that bet, you ass,” Sapnap snorted, tightening the bandana he wore to keep his hair out of his face during lessons around his head. “We both know he is. I bet I could wake him up though.” Dream rolled his eyes, reaching over to shove at Sapnap’s shoulder.
“You say that like it’s hard.”
“It is!”
Dream laughed, reaching over to nudge at his friend’s shoulder as he moved past him, walking toward first period to meet up with George. Turning, and hoping he didn’t crash into anyone while walking backward, he grinned back at Sapnap. “Maybe you just suck!” Snickering, he turned to face forward, calling back over his shoulder, “Ever consider that?”
He could hear Sapnap grumbling after him as the shorter teen hurried to catch up, gently punching his shoulder once he was right next to him. “Ever consider that…” He seemed to be thinking hard—Dream did not pity whatever brain cells were hard at work right then. “Ever consider that your mom was in my bed last night? Owned.”
Dream let out a startled laugh as he stopped walking in front of their first period class. “What?”
“Owned. I just owned you, Dream, you can’t even argue.”
“What– no! Hello? It literally didn’t make sense!”
Sapnap sighed, feigning disappointment as he opened the door to the classroom and walked in, sitting down in the seat two down from where George was drooling on his desk. “Dream, it’s okay that you’re jealous of my game, I understand. People want the swag that they can’t have.” Dream didn’t respond as he sat down, smacking the back of George’s head as he settled in his seat between his friends with a small laugh, which grew louder as George startled awake and showed off the bright red imprint of his own hand on his forehead.
“Damn, George!” Sapnap whistled, a lopsided grin on his face as he leaned over, balancing himself on Dream’s shoulder to get a close look at their friend’s face. “Who’d you lose a fight to?” George sighed, shoving Sapnap’s face away with an open palm, almost making the other teen fall out of his chair—Dream was a little disappointed he hadn’t; it would’ve been funny.
“Your mom,” George replied, his voice completely deadpan in a way that did not at all match his mirthful expression. “You should tell her to give lessons, she’s really good.” Dream choked on a laugh, leaning over his desk as Sapnap pressed a hand to his chest, scandalized.
“George!” He cried. “Where did you get that mouth from? Do you speak to your mother like that?”
“No, of course not,” Dream looked up to see George rolling his eyes, and snickered.
“Yeah, Sapnap, obviously he speaks to your mother like that.” The three of them turned around at the familiar voice to see their close friend, Techno, sluggishly making his way to his seat across the room alongside his twin brother, Wilbur, who laughed, bright and way too cheery for the morning.
“Class starts in two minutes, I saw the teacher on the way over,” Wilbur warned, a good-natured smile on his face as he offered them a wave. “Dream, if you’re planning on skipping again, now’s your chance.”
Now… that was just offensive. Downright cruel, even. Dream had not skipped a single class in at least three days and to assume he would do so now was predicting the worst in him and he told them that, only for them to laugh at him and his (very serious) plight.
Unfortunately for Dream, the late bell rang and their teacher walked in before he could do anything to rectify the wrongdoings of his peers, so he let them be.
~*~
As it turned out, they were absolutely right to doubt him. By third period—which was Pre-Calculus, by the way, no one liked Pre-Calculus—Dream was pushing open the emergency exit doors that led to the least monitored entrance to the school, Sapnap and George trailing behind him with minimal persuading.
(“Dream, you know my mom will get pissed if I skip class too often!” George argued.
“Yeah!” Sapnap agreed. “My parents will kill me if I have to repeat a grade!” Dream sighed, knocking his knuckles together as he tried to think.
“I’ll buy you both those slushies you like?” He tried.
“We’d just get them anyway. We always do,” George refuted, which was a completely fair and true point. However, counterpoint:
“Yeah, but I’m paying.”
“Deal.”
“Deal.”)
It really didn’t take much to convince them, but Dream had to uphold his promise, which wasn’t really a big deal, considering it wasn’t like the trip to the small, rundown convenience store he worked at part-time was a detour of any kind. If anything, it was practically tradition. Some time, either during school hours or after, whoever from their friend group was available would go to the little convenience store and get slushies and snacks before walking through the small path in the woods that they’ve cleaned up over the years, leading to the old abandoned bridge that no longer connected to any roads.
It was nice, there; a quiet area only they really knew about, above a rushing river and hidden from the prying eyes of their rather uptight, religious town.
Acquiring a red slushie and two blue ones, because Sapnap and George lacked taste, as well as numerous bags of bright red spicy chips, Dream abandoned the convenience store with a careless nod to his tired coworker he only vaguely recognized. The man was wearing a striped bucket hat, and Dream knew he was a college student, so he figured that counted well enough on the recognition scale to warrant a nod.
“Hey!” Dream called out to his friends, who were waiting for him at the door of the store. “Take your disgusting drinks, I don’t want them to contaminate me!”
“Hm… I don’t know, Dream…” George started, hand coming up to hold his chin as if he was deep in thought. “You’re being awfully rude to us.”
“Yeah,” Sapnap joined in, as if he thought he was funny. “Dream, it feels a little callous, don’t you think?”
“I think I’m surprised you know the word callous.” Dream rolled his eyes, trying to shove their blue slushies at them without spilling his own, a balancing act he wished he could say he had perfected, but pulled off nonetheless. “Take your stupid drinks.”
“What if I don’t want to?” George asked.
“What if I spill it?” Dream replied, tilting one of the slushies to the side just enough for the blue ice mush inside to start moving, and dropping one of the bags of chips to the ground. Sapnap rushed forward to grab his drink out of Dream’s hands, laughing frantically.
“No!” He shouted, cradling his slushie in his arms in a way he had never held the fake baby from that health project he had received an F on. “No, Dream, I just don’t think the threats are necessary.” George snorted, claiming his own slushie, which freed Dream’s hands enough that he could reclaim the lost bag of chips that he’d dropped.
“I don’t think your mum is necessary,” George snickered.
“That was weak.”
Dream smacked the back of Sapnap’s head with a bag of chips, walking past them towards the path into the forest that would lead to the bridge. “Sapnap, we’ve talked about this. You have to be nice to George.”
“I am being nice,” Sapnap replied, and when Dream glanced over his shoulder he saw the other boy tighten his white bandana. “By being honest. I don’t have to be a simp like you.”
“Excuse me?” Dream gasped, turning around fully and nearly busting his ass on a tree root while walking backward. “I am not a simp!”
George walked up to his taller friend and patted his shoulder with a small, commiserating sigh. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Dream, but my wallet really says otherwise.”
“What? But I paid for Sapnap too, that’s not fair!”
Sapnap laughed at him. Asshole. “You can simp for more than one person, Dream! Don’t worry, baby, I love you too!”
“ Baby ?” Dream pretended to gag, pushing Sapnap away from him and dramatically draping himself over George, nearly toppling the both of them over due to their height difference. “ George , Sapnap’s being gross again!”
George pushed Dream off of him and kept walking down the path. He was also an asshole. “Get along, kids, we’re almost there. Don’t bother me while I’m driving.” He was right, they were almost there, but he legally couldn’t drive so it really wasn’t the best point for him to try and make, in Dream’s professional opinion; and it was, in fact, professional. He took a quiz online and everything, it even said “ #Certified ” on it.
Dream stumbled over a root as Sapnap pushed past him, slurping obnoxiously at his slushie while charging ahead, straight towards the bridge, probably so he could start playing his music before either of them could tell him off. George and Dream hurried after him, which wasn’t difficult considering they were following a path and they could hear Sapnap humming a song in the distance and drinking his blue slushie far louder than he needed to. They did get to the bridge quicker than usual, and sat down against a thick concrete pillar, Dream in the middle with one of the bags of chips open in his lap and their legs hanging off the side, only a few feet above the water.
If it was warmer out, spring or summer, they’d probably have jumped in, but it was the middle of winter, so they sat bundled up together above the rushing water, hands slowly being coated in spicy red dust from the chips and their lips being stained blue and red from their drinks.
“So,” Sapnap started, taking a long, obnoxiously loud sip of his disgusting slushy. “Dream.” Dream looked over at him, hand in the bag of chips as he grabbed another handful before the other two could finish it off.
“Hm?” Dream hummed, and felt George lean in closer to hear the pair of them better. “What’s up?”
Sapnap hesitated, visibly, and Dream was struck by the desire to change the topic of conversation before it could even start, but he wasn’t fast enough. “How’re… How’re your parents?” Dream felt George tense on his other side, and he let out a soft sigh.
“They’re… parents,” He laughed a little, bitterly, leaning back against the concrete column of the bridge and taking a sip of his (superiorly flavored) slushy. “You know?” It was about as much of a non-answer as it could be, and he winced as George elbowed him in the side.
“Dream…” He said, clearly disapproving as he adjusted his stupid white-rimmed glasses. He’d gotten them with those lens that change to sunglasses in the sun, and they made him look dumb but no one really had the heart to tell him. It was sort of endearing, if nothing else.
Dream looked up at the sky, avoiding eye contact with either of them as he set down his slushy and slowly ate his chips. They were quiet, too, but Dream could feel their eyes on him. The sky was pretty, he noticed. It was still around noon, probably an hour after, which meant their friends would join them in soon. It was a nice day, despite the cold weather, and Dream was almost tempted to jump into the freezing depths of the river and go for a swim.
George and Sapnap were still looking at him, even though Dream could tell they were both pretending not to, and he sighed, crossing his legs as he looked down at his lap.
“Look…” He began, quiet, feeling as though a wave of peace had washed over them and any sort of extra volume would disrupt it in such a way that it would be irreparable. “What do you want me to say? They’re… themselves, you know?”
Sapnap raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? How many times has Tubbo slept in your room this week, Dream?”
“...” He bit down on the inside of his cheek, shouldering his friend to the side. “Low blow, Sap.”
“But a solid point, right?”
“... Yeah.”
George pulled his knees to his chest on Dream’s other side, leaning his head closer to Dream and waiting until the younger teen made eye contact. “That place isn’t good for you, Dream. You or Tubbo.” And Dream scoffed, because:
“I know that, you dicks, but what can I do? I’m seventeen, Tubbo’s fifteen, and our parents are upstanding members of the community while their eldest son is a slacker ‘touched by the devil’.” Dream sighed, following it up with a bitter chuckle. “All I can do is wait until I’m old enough to get us out, and we all know it.” They pressed in closer on both his sides, and he pretended not to appreciate the support as he took a harsh, loud sip of his slushy.
“Dream–” Sapnap started, only to be cut off by Dream’s phone buzzing on the ground next to his backpack. George leaned over to grab it for him, pressing back into his side as soon as he’d passed over the phone.
Techno:
Where are you?
You’re late to debate idiot.
Dream snorted, moving to reply before his phone buzzed again.
Techno:
Did you actually skip?
You know what Wil said this morning
wasn’t meant to be a challenge, right?
Dream:
Sorry?
You know I can only last so long
in there, LMAO.
Techno:
You’re not sorry :/ .
I’ll see you at the bridge later.
Nerd.
Dream snickered down at his phone, setting it down between his legs after he heard Sapnap and George start laughing at the messages they’d read over his shoulder. He shoved them both, gently, a smile back on his face when he reached for another handful of chips and nearly fell over as they shoved him back. He laughed, lips twisting as he tried (and failed) to make his smile look more like a smirk. “You guys are such children , oh my god.”
“ We’re children?” George shouted, sounding genuinely offended for some reason. “You’re literally covered in the dust from those chips, and you’re calling us children? You eat like a toddler, Dream.”
“Yeah!” Sapnap punched a fist into the air, reaching over Dream’s head (forcing him to duck, as Sapnap was shorter than him) to high five George. “Get him, George!”
Dream laughed, loud and bright, and let his thoughts drift away from those of his parents; why should they matter, after all, when his real family was right here?