Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dream was walking back from dropping off Tubbo at Phil’s house. Tubbo being very close friends with Phil’s son Tommy. Dream always felt bad when he left Tubbo there, claiming not wanting to bother Phil so much. Tubbo being still 12 and young.

Of course Phil shutting down the claims just as fast as he made them. Phil always stated that Dream and Tubbo were like second sons to him and Kristen. Kristen saiding that he was secretly her favorite. The two of them laughing as an inside joke for them.

But now Dream was walking back home, his steps wavering the closer he got to his house. Schlatt isn’t the best father, Dream still remembered when he was. Tubbo being too young to remember when their dad would tell bedtime stories. Some days he would bring back ice cream for them to enjoy in the backyard.

Somehow remembering how his dad used to be made things worse to accept him now. The conflicting feelings of his father, some days doubting if his father is as bad as he thinks he is. But deep down in the back of his mind, the more rational part of him argues that the bruises and injuries make things even worse.

Stopping outside of the entrance of his house, his dad is supposed to be home from work. Dream wishes that his dad decided to go get black out drunk at some local bar today. That he has run out of bottles to drink at home.

The click of the lock, makes him stop. Closing his eyes he rips the band-aid right off, quick and fast. Letting the door creak open, the one wish he had gets proven to be wrong.

There laid Schlatt; what Dream hoped would be passed out drunk. Gulping, Dream took a hesitant step into his own home. Dreams' eyes never leave the figure. A creeping cat avoiding its owner's notice.

Dream's heart took a stop when Schlatt moved his arm, and now a deer in headlights Dream froze. Schlatt had settled down, but Dream didn’t move again. Seconds felt like minutes when Dream built the courage to move again.

Not wanting to be stuck there again if Schlatt decided to move again, Dream took fast steps towards the hallway. If he can make it upstairs and into his room, he hoped his dad would never know he was home. It’s not like Schlatt will go out looking for him.

Avoiding the creaky step, that would resonate throughout the house. He climbed upwards, running one hand against the wall.

Dream let out a small breath when he reached the top; in triumph or relief.

His padded feet moved along the fake wooden floor, the small steps of his shoe had Dream paranoid. He kept looking behind him and straining his ears for any little noise. He didn’t think twice to open his door. Once his hand was on the handle he pushed it open.

Dream visibly flinched when he heard a loud thump, fear gripped his throat. The door swung open far too much with little to no resistance. He’s opened this door hundreds of times. There has always been a resistance if you tried to open the door.

He closed the door quickly, leaning his back against the door. It struck him then when all his thoughts were racing that his dad said; when sober. That he was planning on oil the doors, he must've done it.

Dream breathes in hoping that the air would push back the tears of fear. This day was going good, his friends and him had gone out for ice cream. His bruises were healing and didn’t hurt. Tubbo was having fun and Phil’s house. Of course he had to fuck this up.

Dream didn't move at all, he kept his back to the wall. Staring at the window, it being the only light source from the moon. That kept his eyes busy while his ears were searching for any evidence that Schlatt woke up.

Once again time moved slowly, it being a turtle with an impatient hare. Dream let out a shake when he heard the couch squeak with weight being moved on top. Dream begging the Schlatt was just turning to his side.

He closed his eyes in instinct to hear a bit better. More fear clogged his throat when he heard the creaky stair. Dream tried his best to completely still his body, his only hope was that his dad would think he wasn’t home.

He heard the steps right outside his door, “Dream?”

Even if Dream wanted to answer he physically couldn’t, the clog in his throat was choking him. Once he heard his dad keep on walking down the hallway. Dream cursed himself when he stepped away from the door and to land on the on fucking tile that cracked.

Both his steps and the ones outside stopped. “Dream.” There was an edge of anger in his voice now, no longer questioning but knowing.

Pressing his lips he swallows down his choke and hopes he doesn't stutter, “Y-yeah, dad?” Dream pinched himself for stuttering.

“Why din’t you answer me the first time.” Schlatts voice was hard. Dreams mind was racing, clinging onto any thought that could make a reasonable excuse. Even Dream knew that wouldn’t matter.

“Sorry, dad, had my headphones on, sorry.” Schlatt didn’t answer him immediately and part of Dream had hoped that he would buy it. Dream was still disappointed when he heard the handle on the rattle. Another wave of fear when he realized it was locked, Schlatt didn't like lock doors.

“Boy! Why is there a lock on the door!”

Dream didn’t want to answer, panicking between opening the door or just keeping it locked. He knew if he didn’t open it it would be bad tomorrow, but he opened it now it would be bad now. And right now he wasn't thinking about tomorrow.

“Dream, open the door.” His voice went calm, a deadly calm. That made his fear triple in weight in his throat and stomach.

Dream stepped back to a wall in his bedroom, his hands pressed into the wall. Hoping that he would melt into the wall and disappear.

When he heard a bang against the door, he sank to the ground. Schlatt has never tried to force his way into a room before. Schlatt never stopped banging the door, and Dream could swear he heard a crack of wood. But the whole commotion he could never be sure.

He never went back to think about it, when he saw the yellow light from the hallway peak through the hole in the door. Shock overrode his entire system and froze.

A hand reached through the hole, feeling around for the handle. He unlocked it. Schlatt stepped into the door, and Dream could only stare in fear in the spot where Schlatt stood.

Nothing had happened but tears were already falling down his cheeks.

“YOU don’t lock the door Dream!” Schlatt was shouting and walking over to where Dream was curled up against the wall. Schlatt had a gloss over his eyes when he was looking at Dream. Dream could see the anger in his face and it still scared Dream.

Dream could only let out a small whimper and hide his head. Schlatt pulled him from his legs, a surprised Dream tried scrambling away from the vulnerable position. Schlatt pulled him up from the collar of his shirt and punched him right in the jaw. Dream was twisted to his side from the punch and pain. For good measure Shlatt kicked him, causing Dream to twist in the other direction. Dream curled up in himself.

“It’s YOUR fault she’s DEAD! I Couldn’t save her because she locked the door because of you!” Schlatt screamed at Dream while not stopping the kicks to his legs and torso. Dream also didn't stop crying, the words hurting more the kicks.

Schlatt started dragging him closer to the other wall, Dream screaming in pain and fear of what would happen.
All that was happening Dream couldn’t keep straight on what was happening, his double vision wasn’t helping. The next thing he knew a hard punch to his jaw, had him seeing black and another punch to his temple. Dream was utterly unconscious from the hits, Schlatt didn’t realize until Dream was completely limp.

Sclatt panicked for a minute, before checking his pulse fearing the worst. When he felt one, small relief went through him. He left Dream on the bed and went back to his room. Taking another bottle with him to help him sleep.

When Dream woke up again, it was still night time. His door was closed but he could see the hallway light through the bottom crack. When he moved he felt his bed sheets underneath him. Taking in a pained gasp when he moved to fast to sit up. His arm curled around his torso.

Slowly he remembered fragments of what happened; what he guessed a few hours prior. He managed to sit on the edge of his bed. He took a deep breath in, checking if it hurt if he breathed too much. Luckily there was no such pain.

Sitting there he started to try and remember what happened. The thought that he caused his mother’s death, had his eyes going glassy. Deep down he always blamed himself but had no proof, he never told anyone anyways. But now confirming that even his dad thought made it more concrete.

Dark thoughts swirled around his mind, of what-ifs and how he could do differently. How he managed to chose the one path that lead to his mothers suicide in the bathroom. He didn’t even remember his mothers death.

Rubbing his face he felt a busted lip, dried tears and blood mixed together. He stood up, hand leaning on the wall for assistance. Dream walked, more liked stumbled to his door. His hands shook on the handle.

He didn’t hear any noise, not even the house settling in. So he thought it safe for him to walk downstairs.

The stairs were harder than usual after his fathers episodes. After step after step, he reached the bottom. All the lights were off in the living room and kitchen. His stomach rumbled but the mere thought of food had the taste of ash on his mouth.

So he kept walking to the doorway, leaning on for him to catch his breath. He wanted to check the time, but then remembered he probably left it in his room. The thought of going up the stairs felt much harder than going down. Deciding to leave his phone, it's not like he’s going to need it.

Dream was going for a walk. He stepped out the doorway, his arm still holding his torso. It wasn’t doing anything but the comfort of it there was nice.

Following the sidewalk, he finally reached the start of the trail. There was a river that ran through the city, a trail and bridges lined the side. It was secluded with trees and usually only used in the mornings.

Chances of him being the only one for a long time were high and he was betting on them. His steps were leisurely, he was enjoying the trees. The small breeze from the water was refreshing. Dream had a set destination of a bridge, it was high enough and there was rushing water underneath it.

The walk somehow felt so much longer, the pain making it harder to take even a small step. The path was concrete so he wasn’t in danger of tripping on hitting his feet.

Reaching the bridge he walked to the peak of it and stood there, hands resting on the rusted metal painted red. The wooden planks underneath him creaking in age. Dream slipped off one shoe from his heel and did the same with the other. Moving them gently, he organized them next to him. Dream stepped up to one beam support, now the railing only reaching to his thighs. He could easily lean forward and he would fall.

Dream threw one leg over the railing, still staring at the water blankly. Bringing the other leg, the only thing keeping him there was his hands holding him up. The air was cold.

“Dream!?” Dream was shocked to hear his name, he whipped his head over to look. There stood Phil, he had a coat with his hat. A face of utter shock and fear written all over his face.

Dream was looking between Phil and the water. Weighing the choices in his mind. He heard the steps come closer at an alarming pace. Dream started to panic, not having enough time. A shaky smile came to his face when he looked at Phil; Phil was only a few large feet away. Dream let go of the railing.

“Dream!” Phil rushed to the railing, it dug into his stomach to where it was painful. Phil wasn’t concerned about that. He was looking at the water, begging that he would see Dream pop up from under the water.

For Phil time was going too fast, minutes past and Dream didn’t reach the surface. Phil already had tears in his eyes, but now that it felt more solidified in his mind had him sobbing.

Dream had just jumped off, oh god.

Chapter Text

Phil fumbled with his phone, tears still carving their path down his cheeks. Hysterical sobs squirming their way out through his mouth. Blinking away the cloudiness from his eyes, or at least trying to. Phil debated on what to do, getting antsy when he couldn’t make up his mind.

At last Phil called the police, reasoning they would be able to do more than emotional support for the man. To at least try and find Dream, or more his body.

The thought had Phil shaking with fear, Oh God what if they do find him but not alive. That’s when Phil started to think about his family as the ringing of the phone continued. What was he supposed to tell Tubbo, that was Dream’s brother.

Dream’s friends, all of them. Someone will have to tell him and Phil was already dreading it. The horror of this all was worse. Then again Phil wasn’t so sure if he could remove the memory of Dream letting go. Dream. Who was like a 4th son to him and Kristen.

If Dream is dead. And Phil is begging the Gods that he’s still alive. Just unconscious. That he’ll wash upon shore gasping for air and a beating heart. The worst Phil is letting his imagination wonder is a few broken bones, nothing time won’t fix.

But time won’t be able to fix death, at least not for Dream.

Phil cursed in anger for the emergency services to take so long to answer. Going through the routine to which he hopes won’t have to go again.

“Sir can you tell what happened?”

“I-I I saw someone jump, I k-knew him. Oh God I don't know, I-. He was just here an-and now.”

“Oh okay, you said it was at the main bridge right, Jordan river?”

“Yes.” Phil didn’t know if he could go on. Holding back his crying was hard enough while talking. “Okay Sir, I sent out an ambulance and some patrol. Can I ask you to meet them at the start of the trail?”

Phil nodded, it took some seconds for him to understand that the other person couldn’t see him. A simple hum was all the other person got for affirmation. Phil didn’t think twice before hanging up, not bothering to be nice.

It felt like his hands were stuck under tar when he tried to release them from the grip he had on the railing. Gulping, he kept walking back. Somehow that distance will change things, that distance will help him forget.

His back hitting the other side of the railing managed to shake him out of his stupor. Phil started at a brisk pace towards the way he came. He wasn’t quite sure what to do next, there wasn’t exactly a manual.

The thoughts wandered back to what he was to say to the others. Phil doubts this wasn’t a good time to use humor as a good way to break it to them.

Hearing the wails of the police had him looking up, now there were red and blue lights bouncing off the open bushes and trees. The night makes it even more visible.

He met the officers at the head of the trail, Phil couldn’t give them much. Unfortunately he was still in an unshakable shock. And the questions they asked only made the tears painful. They left him alone after that.

There sat Phil, behind an ambulance. He was given a bland grey blanket that looked more warm than it actually was. Maybe it was just him that couldn’t stop shaking. Phil’s hands were still ringing his phone, the decision of calling Kristen weighing on his whole body. In the end he thought it best to tell them when he got home, it felt like it’ll be easier on them.

Even if he did call them in the middle of the night telling them something had happened. Wouldn't it be worse for them to just sit here and be able to do nothing like he was. Phil was already here; painfully.

One of the medics asked him if he was alright once again, nodding solemnly at the question. The medic went on again, this time asking if he would like to go home. Once again Phil nodded.

Before walking off home; which wasn’t too far off he did walk this path routinely when he couldn’t sleep. An officer stopped him, asking for his phone number so they will be able to call him if they find anything. Phil gave them his number, stuttering here and there. And so Phil walked home, the lampposts being the only constant light.

Phil stopped in front of his door, scared of what might be behind it. He hesitantly opened the door to his own house. Nobody was waiting for him, Kristen was still asleep in their room and the boys in theirs. Phil let out a sigh of relief, for some reasons he was expecting everyone to be downstairs ready to integrate him on what happened.

He climbed the stairs as slowly as he could without stopping, from anxiety or tiredness. Trying to reset himself at the front of his bedroom door. He pushed it open, half-asleep Kristen merely said a small ‘hey’.

When Phil took too long to join her in bed she looked up to him. Questions swirling her mind to find the reason that kept him. Phil could see her sit up straighter when she noticed his red eyes and tear stains. Rubbing sleep from her eyes she noticed he was shaking.

The whole situation made Kristen just get out of bed to join her husband in comfort. Dread filling her entire body.

An urgent “What happened?” was all that left her mouth.

“It’s Dre-Dream.” His voice stuttered from trying to leave. Kristen’s whole demeanor changed when she heard her son's name in his mouth. No longer unknowing worry, but now worry that a mother can possess.

“Phil. W-what about Dream, Phil” She said his name like it would invoke something in him. That he would be able to explain the past and the future immediately.

“I was walking, by the trail. Like I always do, an-and I saw him there! He was leaning against the rails, I was too late! Kristen! I-I couldn’t. I couldn’t.” Phil managed to slump against her shoulders, Kristen not noticing too much or caring. The whole thing is still processing in her mind and not being able to connect the dots that were so easily laid in front of her. It was a matter of if she wanted to connect the dots.

“N-no.” Now with her knees weak both of them slumped to the carpet in their room. Her arms lay numb beside her while Phil hugged her from the neck. “Dream?” She asked, wanting to be sure he was talking about him. Needing that reassurance that it was him, begging that it wasn’t. Phil nodding in her neck.

“Th- The boys, oh no.” Her crying made it so much harder for Phil to understand her, but her got the message. He didn’t answer, more like he couldn’t although he wasn’t sobbing as he was before words still weren’t able to form correctly.

Minutes passed, long painful minutes that took hours for them to register as minutes. Both of the adults now had red rimmed eyes and tracks down their cheeks. Looking into each other's eyes they nodded. They need to tell the boys right now.

Stumbling to their feet, each other helping the other in their footing. Kristen rubbed the wetness from her eyes to seem some part of her stable. Phil used his sleeve to do it.

They held onto each for as much as they could before silently deciding to split off to wake the kids. To wake them up in the middle of the night, just to tell them that Dream. Their Dream that they have known since elementary, some even younger that he was hurt. None of them thought about the other possibility.

The entire household that was living there was gathering in the living room. Kristen sitting at the edge of the couch, hand on top of Phil’s shoulder. Kristen had felt it upon herself to them, Phil had one through enough just as to see Dream jump.

Kristen opened and closed her mouth to say something, and whenever something came to mind the build up of tears in her eyes stopped her.

“Mom?” Wilbur asked, afraid of what happened to get his parents to this state. The other three opted to stay quiet as well.

Taking a deep breath in Kristen once again tried to start, holding her breath in for a second she started.

“Something happened, something bad. And there isn’t much we can do, but we have to be there for each other no matter, o-okay?”

This made everything so much worse, instead of trying to help things. Kristen made everyone get more nervous and worried.

“Dream- Dream got hurt, really bad and we don’t know- we don’t know what will happen.” Phil spoke. It made everyone turn to look at him.

“Dad we are not 5, what happened.” Techno said, even behind his hard voice there was an edge of fear and panic underneath it. It was only reasonable, although Dream and Techno weren’t always best friends forever they were close enough. Close enough for Techno to be a friend that Techno likes, unlike his friends he deals with.

Phil and Kristen were going to go on, a ring of a phone call vibrating in Phil’s pocket startled everyone. Phil rushed to pull it out and answer it, at the same time start walking to the kitchen for some privacy.

The boys and Kristen were now the only ones in the room.

“Kristen, what happened to my brother.” Kristen was even more scared to answer that, especially to Tubbo, Dream's brother. How were you supposed to tell someone his brother just tried to kill himself.

And finally admitting that to herself, that Dream tried to kill himself. That Dream let go off the rails to fall off the bridge, that he was betting that it would kill himself. Kristen could only close her eyes to hold back her tears.

“H-he jumped, I’m s-sorry Tubbo, I-i’m so sorry Tubbo, he ju-jumped.” Kristen managed to get through all of her crying. Tubbo went still, the only movement coming from his tears that fell from his face.
“You’re lying. H-he wouldn’t do that.” Techno refused to believe it, he just wouldn’t. There would be a universe where Dream tried to off himself. Why was he in the universe where one of his few true friends would try to kill himself.

“That’s not funny mom.” Tommy said, although tears were already falling from his eyes. He was gripping his arms almost painfully. Tommy and Dream had a playful relationship, bullying each other relentless. Tommy always enjoys their banter, and Tubbo tries his best to be a peacekeeper.

Wilbur didn’t say anything, the only thing going through his head was the memories of him and Dream hanging out together. When they would listen to music and sometimes make some music together.

And there was Tubbo, catatonic. The information that his brother, the brother he looked up to tried to jump off a bridge to kill himself. Thoughts that Tubbo was part to blame, that he made Dreams life hard, so much that he tried to kill himself.

Phil came back to the room. Looking worse than her ever has in his life, or as much as Kristen has known him. And knowing this Kristen feared the worst and at the same time knowing. Knowing that whatever he was going to say, there was no happy ending.

And so Phil finally spoke, “They found his body.”

“So he’s okay right?” Tommy asked, not wanting to be the only other optician. That if they found him, they found him alive.

“They found his body.” Phil repeated, begging Tommy would figure it out, not wanting to explain something so torturous and painful.

Tubbo could only murmur, “He’s dead.”

That finalized everything in print, that Dream wasn’t coming back. That Dream somehow managed to successfully kill himself. Why did he have to be so good at everything, why couldn't he fail at one thing. Just one thing.

Techno had tried to hide his tears, not liking people seeing him as vulnerable as he is now. Storming off somewhere in the house to be alone and deal with his pain by his terms. The terms that he could be able to have control over.

Wilbur was quite, sobbing fat tears as he stared at the floor. Nails digging into his skin, it wasn’t like he could feel the pain, the pain of Dream’s death numbed everything else.

Tommy yelling and screaming that they were lying and they had to be wrong. Kristen had rushed to hug him to try and muffle him while comforting him. Phil had moved over to bring Wilbur and Tubbo into a hug.

And Tubbo who wasn’t responding to anything, not to his name nor any movements. All Tubbo could do was be stuck inside his mind, running over everything that involved his brother.

Along the line they had all fallen asleep from the emotional exhaust. When they woke up no one spoke, they all mindlessly moved. Phil and Kristen got to organizing, as well as having to do the hard calls of calling Dreams friends.

Spanap had just hung up, but Phil heard the sob that he led out.

George must have forgot that Kristen was on the other side of the call, she had to end the call after minutes of crying coming from George.

Bad asked lots of questions, most of which Phil couldn’t answer and he himself wanted to know. The question of ‘why’ still rings in his head.

Ant stayed quiet muttering a small sorry before hanging up the phone.

The funeral was devastating, Phil and Kristen had taken themselves to do it. Everytime they tried to call schlatt; Dream’s father they were sent to voicemail. Dream was put into a suit, that even if he was alive would probably complain about wearing it. In the end tubbo had put a green rose next to dream.