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Attention inmates and guests. There has been a potential security breach. The prison will be initiating lockdown procedures until all safety and containment protocols have been reestablished. There will be no visitors at this time, and any current guests are to remain where they are until a member of security reaches you. I apologize for the inconvenience.
It’s been two weeks. Fourteen days. Twice the limit in the waiver he signed. Two weeks since Tommy heard Sam’s monotone announcement spill from the cell’s speakers. He had talked to Sam yesterday, through the lava. His voice had been just as robotic and impersonal as it had been through the tinny intercom.
Tommy’s not an idiot. He’s connected the dots between Sam’s unnatural control over his emotions and his explosive side. That doesn’t make it any easier to hear the lifeless dip of Sam’s voice, not after Tommy somehow (unknowingly, unwantingly) labeled it safe. Maybe if he could see Sam, it would be different. Sam’s got his emotional inflection under lock and key, but Tommy prides himself on having become adept at catching the flickers of it in Sam’s eyes. Windows to the soul and whatever.
Instead, all he gets is a cold voice giving empty comfort through a bubbling wall of lava.
“That’s unfortunate,” Dream says, and doesn’t mean a word of it. “Kinda cold of him, don’t you think? To just leave you here like that.”
“Shut up.”
“Tommy,” Dream chucks a book at him from across the room. “What do you think of this?”
It’s the third one in the past hour. Tommy catches it and, without hesitation, tosses it into the lava. He ignores Dream’s squawk of protest. He stopped reading them fifteen books ago. Only half ended up in the lava, which Tommy thinks is a very good show of patience. But, holy fuck, how many of the stupid things does Dream have?
Dream whines, “Hey! Why did you do that? I don’t have an endless supply.”
“How many do you even have?”
“How many? Uh,” Dream drops his newest book down in his lap so he can lean over to his chest and sort through it. “Five, eight, twenty…”
Tommy groans.
“Thirty-three including this one.”
“Fucking fantastic.”
Tommy lets his head thunk against the wall. Fourteen days. He had only wanted to spend an hour, tops. All he had wanted to do was confront Dream one last time and then wash his hands of it. Tubbo had said it was time to move on, and it was. Tommy had distracted himself enough with the hotel and running around pretending things were fine. He thought he needed to stare his nightmare in the eyes and tell him to shove it.
Sam comes around the desk to meet him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Tommy doesn’t turn away from the naked concern in Sam’s eyes. It’s nice. Nonjudgmental. He hates that his thoughts immediately jump to figuring out an expiration date on Sam’s kindness. Something will go wrong, he’s sure. But for fuck’s sake, can’t he enjoy it while it lasts?
“I’m sure, Sam.”
Sam hesitates. “I just want you to be sure that this is going to help.”
There’s a flicker of anger and Tommy ruthlessly stomps it out. There will be time, and someone better suited, for it later. “Just let me sign the waiver.”
“Oh. Look at that.” Dream’s on his feet and crossing the cell to stand by Tommy before he can blink.
Tommy flinches back. “Personal space, hello!” Dream ignores him, eyes locked on the lava. Tommy shuffles back to get some more space between them, but not too far away. Despite how off-putting Dream’s sudden focus is, he’s more than a little curious. Is it Sam?
A hiss of pistons, the chime of working redstone and Dream cracks a smile. Tommy’s quickly distracted by the voice that calls out to them. But maybe, if he had been paying attention, he could have noticed how tense Dream becomes as Sam speaks.
“Hello?”
“Sam!”
There’s a clatter, a sharp vent, and then Sam’s voice echoes from beyond the lava. “Good morning, Tommy. How are you holding up?”
“Dream’s bothering me.” He avoids getting elbowed or shoulder bumped thanks to his position on the floor. Dream shoots a look at him. “I’m getting out, right?”
“Not yet.”
Not yet? “Sam, it’s been fourteen days. Let me out.”
“Do you know when he can get out?” Dream asks, just loud enough to cut over Tommy. “What’s the hold up?”
There’s a pause. Sam’s words are clipped, more measured than usual. “Once I identify the security breach.”
“You haven’t found it yet?” Dream sighs, giving Tommy a sympathetic glance - one Tommy’s not entirely sure what to do with - before shrugging. “So Tommy’s going to be here for a while then.”
“That’s not—”
“Like hell I am!” Tommy lurches to his feet. “Sam, pull the lava down. I want to see you.”
“I can’t do that. It’s against protocols.”
“Fuck protocols, Sam! I need to get out of here.” Tommy throws one arm out to gesture at the cell, forgetting that Sam can’t see him and forcing Dream to back out of the way. “I can’t...I can’t be here anymore. Not with him. Sam, please.”
“It’s not safe—”
“I don’t care!” Tommy startles himself with his own shout. He sucks in a breath and it rattles in his throat when he releases it. There’s a rumbling whine - and it’s not from this side of the cell.
“Tommy…”
“No, no. Listen to me, Sam. You visited me in exile, remember? You remember that? This is worse. This is worse than exile, Sam. I can’t be in here with him anymore. I don’t want to hear him anymore. Please, please Sam.”
Another pause, this one stretching out for a minute or so. Everything is still. Even the lava has quieted. The tension is oppressive. It tugs at his chest, fills his throat with static. Tommy can’t force anything past it. He’s not sure if he wants to break whatever has settled over them. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see that Dream looks confused.
Despite the distance between them, the venting sigh Sam makes is loud enough to echo through the cell. It cuts through the air and suddenly, Tommy can breath again. He’s caving. “I can’t make any promises. But I think I’ll be able to get you out soon. Two, three hours. Maybe a little longer.”
“By today. For sure?” Tommy can barely believe it.
Sam’s answer is immediate, no hesitation. “Yes.” Tommy thinks he wants to laugh. Maybe cry. Or scream. He’s not sure. He can’t believe he’s finally going to be out of this stupid, cramped cell (it’s about time). He’s going to be free and Dream can sit and rot all alone - just how it was meant to be.
Is it true? It was too easy. It can’t be true. Where’s the catch? What’s the payment?
No. He trusts Sam. He does. Sam is safe, Sam is careful, Sam is good.
“You have quite a few people missing you, you know.” Sam adds quietly. It’s nearly lost under the lava. “Some of them were quite insistent on getting you out - with or without my permission.”
Tommy can’t help but laugh. Tubbo. Heart of gold, mind of mischief. His chest aches at the thought of his best friend. “He’ll be able to meet us when I leave?”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Sam says with a hint of a smile layered under his words. Tommy almost doesn’t catch it, so out of character it was. It’s the first glimpse under the mask of the Warden that Tommy’s seen since he first walked into the prison fourteen days ago (it’s the first glimpse of Sam that either of them have seen).
“I brought Sam to the server. Did you know that?” Dream says after two hours of silence. Sam’s already stopped by to ensure they had food, but it was a short visit. He apparently had a lead on what might have caused the explosion. Tommy isn’t sure if that was true or if Sam only said it in an attempt to comfort him.
Dream’s question startles him from his daydreaming. “What?”
“Got him out of a tight spot on his home server. He was all too happy to follow me back here.” Dream gives him a lopsided smile. “I was friends with him. Not that it’s hard. He adopts everyone. A little praise, some comforting. That’s all it takes. No wonder he took to you so quickly. Probably saw a kindred spirit or some shit.”
Tommy misses out on what he says after that. He’s too focused on trying to feel the obsidian beneath his fingers or hear the bubble of the lava, the distant rumble of redstone mechanisms. Something grounding.
Just a little praise? Was that all he needed to trust Dream?
“That’s not going to risk the prison?”
Tommy freezes. Dream has his arms crossed, scowling. “Fuck off,” Tommy snaps. Dream’s appealing to the Warden, not to Sam and Tommy thinks he can shut up right now. Don’t fucking ruin this, asshole.
Dream gestures at the lava, probably where he assumes Sam is, and says, “Protocols are there for a reason, right?” Tommy clenches his fists. He’s going to strangle him. Screw fancy magic of resurrection or whatever Dream claims he has. Tommy’s going to get out and Dream can’t go and logic his way into keeping Tommy here any longer. Not if he has any say in the matter.
Does he?
“I signed a waiver, right Sam? I signed a waiver that said I could be stuck up to a week. Seven days. It’s well past seven days!”
“Or until the problem is solved. That’s just common sense.” Dream doesn’t look at him. He’s still watching past the lava. Why won’t he fucking look at him if he’s going to argue? Stupid bastard.
“Common sense? Fuck off with that. It doesn’t matter! The waiver said one week and it’s been well beyond that so I say I’m free to get the hell out of here. Fuck you.”
“Tommy,” Sam interrupts, “you’re right. I just need to run some last checks and then I’ll get you out. Okay?”
He nods, realizing that Sam can’t see him on the third dizzying movement, and adds, “Got it, big man.”
“Okay.” Sam goes quiet. There’s the now-familiar clink as he resets the automatic feeder. Tommy can hear it whirling as it starts up. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”
“You promise? No ‘only seven days - wait, actually twice that’ bullshit? A few hours?”
“I promise. Just hold on a little bit longer.”
That’s the best he can do, isn’t it? That’s all he can do. At least until he’s back under the sun and clouds and there are more than just two voices that bounce around him.
Dream promised a lot. Wilbur and Techno both promised you the world, but where are they now? Why should Sam be any different? As much as he thinks (knows) that Sam will do all he can to follow through on his promise, that’s not enough to stop the nagging fear in the back of his mind. In another place, at another time, Tommy could have mentioned his worry, but not here. Not with Dream still standing so close.
“I told you that I wasn’t going to harm you, no matter what,” Sam says even as blood soaks through his vest. “Not even if you hit me first.”
He doesn’t say anything as Sam bids them farewell and leaves.
Silence settles in the cell as the noise of pistons fades into the distance. Dream’s still next to him, looming over him even if the man’s focus is still locked past the lava. Tommy slumps against the wall. He’s too tired, too relieved, to care anymore. He’s getting out and Dream is going to stay locked up.
Good fucking riddance!
When Dream turns towards him, Tommy’s ready for anger or even reluctant acceptance. He’s completely surprised to see confusion etched across Dream’s face. “He broke character.”
“What?”
“Sam broke character to reassure you.”
Tommy shrugs. “After two whole weeks.” He doesn’t understand.
“That’s not...he can’t do that. He’s the warden.” Dream drops his gaze to the floor. Tommy’s not sure what to make of Dream’s revelation. Sure, Sam is scary when he takes on the whole super serious Warden persona, and he had just been thinking about how he hated Sam’s aloofness in the prison. But it’s still Sam under that armor and mask of professionalism.
Dream’s eyes snap up to Tommy. They’re blazing with intensity. “How did you do it?” Tommy can only stare at him. He inches away, but Dream follows. “How the hell did you get the server to care about you? To rally around you?”
“They haven’t rallied around me,” Tommy says, “What do you know? You’ve been locked up.”
“So? I’ve heard about what you were doing. Building a hotel, playing scientist with Tubbo, convincing everyone that you’re someone worthwhile. How did you do it?”
Tommy bunches his fists in his shirt. He’s lying. He’s always lying. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“Stop lying!” Dream turns away from him, stepping back until he’s in the center of the cell. He gestures at Tommy and then around the room. “Sam barely talks to me. We were friends - I saved his life! How can you just waltz in here and get him to break character?”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“The only thing that isn’t making sense is how you convinced them you’re worth more than this .” Dream gestures at the cell again. “Why should you leave? Everything you touch gets damaged, everyone you touch gets hurt. Why the fuck would anyone want to see you outside the prison?”
Tommy tucks himself into the farthest corner from Dream’s frantic pacing. He covers his ears with his hands. Childish, his thoughts chide him, but he only curls in on himself as Dream continues to rant. He can’t listen. He won’t listen. Dream can spin words and twist feelings better than Wilbur, Tommy should know better than to listen to him.
There’s a pause in Dream’s steps and then he abruptly laughs. “You can ignore me now. You’ll be released and you can go back to...to conning everyone. Someone will have to tell them that you’re lying to them. You know the truth right? That you’re nothing worth befriending, nothing worth caring about.”
Tommy shakes his head.
“You’ll only ever have me, Tommy. Don’t forget that. You might call Tubbo or Sam or...or Techno your friends, but they aren’t. They only want what you can give them.” Dream’s voice drops from its frantic, shrill tone to something colder. “I’ll get out eventually.”
That’s stupid. Ridiculous. Unimaginable. “No, you won’t,” Tommy snaps, muffled against his knees. Sam wouldn’t let Dream out. He takes his job too seriously. He’d die before Dream could escape. He’s lying! Tommy tenses when Dream picks up his pacing.
“I will. You know I will. And do you know what I’ll do when I’m free? I’m going to destroy everything that you have. I’m going to ruin you. I’ll take Tubbo’s last life, I’ll find your discs, I’ll burn your hotel to the ground.” A thoughtful pause. “I’ll kill everyone that refuses to listen to reason. Anyone who breaks character. The server wants peace and unity now, right? I can bring that. Better than whatever you’ve offered them. All you do is bring destruction. Everything you touch gets burned down. They just need to realize that.”
How long has it been? Where’s Sam? Tommy glares at Dream. “Shut up, asshole.”
“Do they think they need some kid?” Dream shakes his head. “No, they need a god.”
“And you think you’re a god?” Tommy scrambles to his feet when Dream rounds on him. “Because you’re not.”
“I control life and death. That makes me as good as a god, doesn’t it?”
“You’re no god. You’re locked up in prison, you have no friends, no allies. You have nothing, Dream. Nothing. Not even your stupid fucking mask. You’re just a washed up, delusional bastard.”
The laughter that erupts from Dream is bordering on hysterical. “Oh? And what does that make you, Tommy? You like to think you’re a hero? Is that what this whole thing had been? Some misguided confrontation? Pathetic.”
“No—”
“There’s no such thing as heroes.”
“That’s not—”
Dream’s ignoring him, completely lost in his own words. “ Heroes are nothing more than childish make-believe. There’s no such thing. And even if they did?” Dream laughs. “You’d be the furthest thing from it.”
Tommy steps back when Dream’s attention whips back to him. The man gets close enough to grab the front of his shirt and bring them eye to eye. The dark mirth from before is gone. Dream’s eyes are serious, steely. Tommy struggles to remove Dream’s grip. “Let go!”
“Let’s pretend then. Let’s say you are a hero, yeah? Say you saved the day, stopped the server from descending into madness. What next? Heroes don’t get happy endings.” Dream shakes him, voice rising. “What next?”
Dream throws him against the wall. His head cracks against the obsidian. Before Tommy can gather himself, try and get his legs to support him, Dream is bracketing him in.
Tommy struggles to get away. He headbutts Dream and hears something crack. The man jerks back, one hand whipping up to touch the blood running from his nose. Tommy dodges around him to stand in front of the lava. “Sam!”
“He’s not coming.” Dream’s voice is sharp, a little nasally. “No one’s coming.”
“You’re lying.” Tommy’s cornered himself. He can’t back up into the lava and Dream’s half-slouched in the center of the cell. He’s stuck. He’s stuck.
The walls are closing in on him. He can’t breathe. Why is Dream not doing anything? He can hear his laughter. They were friends, weren’t they? Why is Dream not helping? His vision is spotty. Panic attack. There’s no room. Why can’t he breathe?
He doesn’t notice Dream getting closer. He doesn’t notice Dream reaching for him. He doesn’t notice until—
Pain.
Everything hurts. Why? Friends don’t do this to each other. Do they? They shouldn’t. They don’t.
A series of thunderous noise swamps him as the ground shakes beneath him. He can taste blood in his mouth.
They should have been brothers, not pain and anguish and betrayal. “Do you think you’re a hero, Tommy?” Thunder and screams echo around him. “Then die like one!”
“You won’t die a hero, Tommy. No one does.”