Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

dream was the problem child. 

not of his family, because he was the only child, no siblings to provide some company. 

he was the problem child of their friend group. even more than tommy, who blew up his science experiment in class. more than wilbur, who helped blow up tommy's science experiment in class without even being there. more than fundy, who sent a code through the school computers to rick-roll the entire class. 

so, dream was the problem child. 

he would stay up too late every night, running on monsters and too many pop tarts. he'd sneak out of his house to avoid the alarms set up, and ride on his skateboard down to the park, bringing along a singular cigarette just for the hell of it. most nights would be spent outside, not only past his own curfew, but the entire town's. he'd skip class, earning more trips to detention than he could count. 

learn about the poor relationship with his parents and you'll understand. 

his parents were rarely home, only a few days a year when it was legally required. 

they were big in the business world, spending their time at hotels and fancy restaurants rather than at home with their son. he never got messages, either, unless to complain about his poor performance or attendance in school. 

and when they did return, they wouldn't even give him the chance to talk. the last civil conversation they had as the two adults would do nothing but scream at him, or at each other.  

even though all this, his friends never failed to be by his side. through all the angry teachers, classmates, and even cops, they were always there for him. 

even more, however, phil was there. 

he fed dream dinner at least once a week, insisting that he come over from some ‘family’ time. 

his parents also gave him other parental rights, in case dream got hurt/in trouble while they were away. 

and even when phil would have to pick him up from the station at 1 in the morning, the man never complained, just asking if dream was ok (more mentally than physically) and bringing him to his own home so that he wouldn’t have to be alone when he wakes. 

dream would never admit that he’s called phil ‘dad’ one too many times in private. as much as he’d like to, he wouldn’t want to creep phil out of anything. 

so, even though his biological family what shit, he knew his other one would be there the second he asked (which wasn’t often).

dream usually regretted skipping class. the nasty voicemail his mother and father would leave of pure disappointment and disgust was enough to make him feel even just a little bad on a normal day. 

but, this time around, he knew he would never regret it. 

math class was far too boring. dream found it impossible to focus during the class, never mind having to study afterward and even attempt to memorize a single equation. 

seriously, what the fuck is a unit circle?

so, another class skipped, and dream was headed out through the side door and back to the fields. his plan was simple: go to the bleachers, sit underneath for about 2 periods, then go to computer science, a class he actually enjoys. 

but, instead, he heard aggressive voices and a quiet whimper from behind the barn holding the sports equipment. 

confused, dream raised an eyebrow and walked over to where he heard the commotion. there, holding a teen against the wall, was the football team's senior captain, liam. the kid had blood streaming from his nose, was hunched over a bit so that he was clutching his stomach, and was biting his lip to hold in his grunts, presumably to stop any satisfaction that liam could get from hearing them. 

but, then, dream recognized the mop of blonde hair and red and white shirt that was being shouted at in the face. 

that was tommy. 

dream saw red, marching up behind the shorter, but older, boy, yanking him off of his 'brother' and punching him in the face. 

dream wasn't new to physical fights, and he's gotten in his fair share of them. yet, he's won every single one and didn't plan on spoiling the record any time soon. 

so, he made sure his rings would leave an indent in the brunette's cheeks and he unloaded punches onto the boy, who had fallen onto the ground after only returning one hit to dream's face (it was weak, honestly). 

eventually, hands had pulled him off the other, and he smiled with bloody teeth at liam's friends, who were trying to help him stand up. 

long story short, the senior looked a lot worse than the junior. 

he gave tommy a smile as two teachers began to take him down to the office, where he'd probably get suspended for a few days. 

phil had picked him up, offering to bring him home, but dream refused to get into his way even more. despite the older man's protests, he insisted on going back to his own house. 

he regretted it once the loneliness set in. 

although he had gotten the blood cleaned off of him back at school, his rings and clothes hadn't been. 

so, dream sat in the bathroom, listening to the neighborhood and humming along, sitting next to his cat as he scrubbed his rings with an old toothbrush and soaked the clothes. 

he felt ever so lonely as he realized the house was empty. hell, dream would trade the silence to be scolded for getting suspended for three days. 

the phone rang almost on cue. 

"hello?" 

"dream taken, your school called today." his mother spoke. 

"oh, goodie. what now?" 

"you take this serious, dream. suspended for three days?! for beating a kid up?" 

"he was hurting tommy, mom." 

"he can stick up for himself." 

dream scoffed. "no he can't! he's scrawny, mom, and as much as i love the kid, he can't take care of himself like that." 

she sighed. "well, your academic success does not rely on thomas." 

"tommy." he corrected. 

"thomas. he does not need your saving." 

"he did so-" 

"you disappoint me, dream. continue these activities and i'll cancel the phone bill." 

"mom, he was being beaten up. did you want me to sit there and watch?!" 

she huffed. "yes, that's what i expect from you. be better. you're a disappointment." 

the call ended with those few cold words, not a single goodbye to be heard. his quiet whisper of 'i know' went unheard. 

dream sighed, swallowing the large knot forming in his throat. she didn't deserve his tears, so he refused to shed them for her. 

and if dream ended up holding in his sobs, but finally letting them out for good when he received a kind, loving text, no one was there to know (aside from patches, who rubbed her head against his chest, adding as much comfort as she could). 

tommy <3

thanks for today, big d :D
don't tell wilbur, but you're like a brother to me. 
so thanks for being alright. 
i guess. 
and phil wants you to come for dinner tomorrow. 
you there dream?
oh. 
it's kinda late. 
goodnight, dream <3

Chapter Text

for the first time this week (it was friday) dream was staying after school for an extracurricular activity rather than detention. 

surprisingly, there was a singular club that let dream join due to good recommendations from one specific kid. 

quackity. 

quackity was the president of the debate club. he absolutely dominated every competition, wining argument after argument, no matter if he truly agreed with his side or not. 

so when dream had to join a club and do some community service in order to stay in school, he went straight to quackity, knowing no other club would want him in. 

he excelled fairly quickly. 

it wasn’t widely known that dream had a lot of experience with arguments (he had them every day with his parents up until eighth grade when they started leaving him all alone). 

but quackity got the hint; he saw the glint of fear and worry in the younger’s eyes every time dream rose to the stand. 

but, nonetheless, he slipped on a more fancy shirt in their poorly lit school bathroom to fit the competition's dress code and headed out for the next competition. 

“and your winners, for tonight, are...quackity and dream from essempi high school!” 

the rest of the class cheered loudly as quackity and dream left the stand, shaking hands with their competitors, and going down to join their friends and ‘coach.’

they gathered their notes for the next meeting, in which they would review what they did right and wrong, and understand how to be better. 

dream slammed his locker closed after pulling out his skateboard, slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

“want a ride home, dream?”

dream looked to his right, where quackity was still shoving books into the bottom locker a few feet away. 

“actually, i’m a few minutes late the phil’s house already.” 

quackity smiled, closing the metal door gently and clicking the lock closed. “no worries!” he waved his hand. “i can just drop you off there, instead.”

dream scratched the back of his neck. “you sure? i wouldn’t want you to go out of your way...”

quackity shook his head. “nonsense, come on. i wouldn’t want you riding home in the dark, anyway.” he said, leaving the building but holding the door open for dream. 

dream stood still for a moment. what did that mean? did he not trust dream? or maybe he thought dream was weak and wouldn't make it home. or-

“you coming?” 

dream jumped out of his thoughts and jogged to the open door. “yeah, sorry.” 

they walked silently through the quiet parking lot and to the familiar blue beat-up car, getting inside and turning up the heat immediately. 

quackity whistled to the low playing music as he pulled out of the parking lot, turning onto the main road. 

dream sighed, letting his warm breath fog up the glass of the window he was leaning against. 

“you know,” quackity said, breaking the silence, “you don’t always have to offer to argue at every meet. 

dream turned his attention from the blurry trees and to the younger teen, raising an eyebrow in question. 

“what i mean is that,” quackity stopped at the newly red light and turned to dream, “you look uncomfortable up there sometimes. i know you’re hella good at this shit, but don’t put the good of the team in front of yourself. anyone would be happy to fill in for you.” 

dream sighed. “i just...i don’t wanna let you guys down, y’know? what else am i ‘posed to do, sit out?”

“yes.” quackity said, causing dream’s eyes to widen. “you deserve a break, everyone does.” he put a hand on dream’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “just- don’t push yourself too much, alright?”

dream didn’t have a chance to answer before the car behind them was honking, aggressively saying that ‘hey, the light turned green!’ 

quackity grumbled, shifting gears and continuing on the road. “i’m going, asshole.” 

“thanks for the ride, q!” dream said, leaving the car and slamming close the door.

"of course! any time, really. all you gotta do is let me know." he smiled.

"see you monday?"

"sunday! we have that group thing at the skating rink, remember?"

"roller skating, again?" he groaned, not actually annoyed.

"hell yeah! we're gonna teach you how to genuinely succeed this time."

"sure, you are." dream said, smiling and turning to walk towards the house.

"'night, dream!" quackity responded, rolling up the window.

the younger teen drove down the street, car disappearing as the tires slowly rolled down the street. 

he sighed, turning around and walking through the freshly cut grass and situating his backpack over his shoulders as he walked to the front door. 

his hand knocked against the hard surface, hearing a mumbled complaint of 'he knows he doesn't have to knock.' 

the door swung open to reveal a much shorter blond man. the older smiled. "dream! i'm so glad you made it." 

dream smiled and nodded. "i tried my best! just finished with quackity at the debate thing." 

phil nodded and motioned for him to come inside. "and how'd it go? i'm suspecting you won if you're in this good of a mood." 

"of course, we won! who do you take me for?" he said, putting his bag and skateboard on the floor and taking off his shoes. 

phil chuckled and shook his head. "you can leave your jacket here, too. i got a bunch of new blankets and- oh! hot chocolate, too!" 

dream smiled and removed his old coat. "thank you, mr. minecraft." 

phil sighed. "how many times to i have to tell you, bud? you can call me phil. everyone does." 

"i know but- common courtesy, right? i should," he briefly cleared his throat, "i should be polite, right? manners and all, you get it." 

phil sighed, running a hand through his hair. "you know i don't treat you to those standards, dream. you're allowed to relax here." 

dream took a deep breath and nodded before the calmness was broken. tommy ran into the entry way to show dream how the bruise on his nose was both horrible looking and healing. 

this would be a nice night. 

or so he thought. 

"boom, bitch!" tommy yelled, taking the money from wilbur's hand. 

"tommy!" phil said, faking annoyance. 

"how did i land on your properties three turns in a row?!" wilbur groaned, turning over his piece as he went bankrupt. 

dream's laughter was cut off by his phone ringing. he looked over at the device and gulped. 

"who is it?" tubbo asked. 

"my dad, i'm gonna-" he huffed, "i'm gonna go take this outside." 

"but-" tommy started, only for phil to shush him. 

"go ahead, dream. we'll wait for you." 

dream's lips upturned slightly. "thank you, mr.-" he stopped himself. "thanks, phil." 

dream walked onto the porch and shut the back door behind them. the second he was gone, phil sighed and dropped his head into his hands, groaning. "i swear to god, i'm gonna kill his parents."

wilbur chuckled. "can we make it a family job? i'd like my hands at 'em." 

phil only shook his head, rolling the dice on the table. it was a luck thing. whenever he rolled at least one even number, he would have good luck. but even one odd number would bring bad. it worked every time, ever since he was a teen. 

phil rolled a one and a five. 

"hello?" dream asked, slowly closing the sliding door behind him. the night was darker than it was before, now being a little after 9 o'clock at night. 

"dream." his father's voice boomed. "you aren't home. it's past curfew." 

dream sighed. "i know, i know. but, i'm at ph- mr. minecraft's house! he- um, he made me dinner. i sent you my location when i got here, just like you always ask." 

"why do i have to tell you things 100 times?! i asked you to be home, dream. this is not the place for discussion." 

he groaned, too quiet for the microphone to pick up. "i know-"  

"clearly, you don't. you know, you're quite ungrateful." 

"how?!" dream nearly shouted, voice pitching upwards. 

"do not raise your tone at me, young man. your mother and i work our asses off to put food on that table for you, and we get nothing but disrespect and backtalk." 

dream's eyes widened. "you get disrespected because you start it!" 

"dream taken! lower your voice. keep acting like this, and you'll never get anywhere in life!" 

"i just won the 10th debate competition this year and i will most likely end up winning the championship again. i think i'm doing just fine, john." 

"get your head out of your own ass and listen to me, bitch. i do not move around different countries for you to disregard everything i do for you-" 

"yeah, you move around different countries so you can find an excuse to fucking abandon me. i don't remember the last time you were home, nevermind the last time we had a real, non-aggressive conversation." dream said, trying to keep his cool. 

"your mother and i are the best parents you ever had the chance with! if anyone else had had you, you would've been on the streets by now. you're lucky we kept your ass around. stop being so selfish and needy all the time." 

dream swallowed, unable to think of anything else. 

"all you do is disappoint, disappoint, disappoint. have you seen your math grade?! you have a b, dream. a b! what college will accept you for that?! you may have gotten one a in the past five weeks, but you should be doing that all the damn time. others kids can, so you should, too." 

dream ignored the burning sensation in his eyes. "you know i can't focus without the adhd medicine that you refuse to get for me-" 

"why can't you just be normal, dream!" his father shouted. "we told you already, this ' adhd,' thing isn't real! god, you make me so mad! they aren't big deals! you're just lazy!" 

"please, father-" his voice cracked, few tears escaping his eyes. 

"god, are you crying?! you're such a baby, dream. get home, now. you hear me?" 

dream nodded, forgetting that his father couldn't see him.  

"i want an answer." 

"y-yes, yes. i'm- i'm going now." 

"good. you have fifteen minutes." 

the call ended and dream wanted nothing more than to smash his phone against the wooden porch. instead, he groaned, aggressively wiping his red face and laughing, a deep chuckle mixing in sobs. 

he shook his head. he turned and opened the door to head back inside. he walked past the table and to the entryway, aggressively putting his coat on and sniffling. 

"dream? are you alright-" 

"yes!" he snapped, stopping his movements for a moment. he felt bad immediately when he looked up to phil's shocked and worried expression. "s-sorry, yes, 'm fine. i just- i need to get home, i'm sorry, mr. minecraft. i'm sorry." he muttered, grabbing his things.

"dream-" 

"i'll, um, i'll talk to you another time, yeah?" 

he looked up and made eye contact with phil, who looked reluctant to let him leave. wilbur was staring with pure anger, tubbo with confusion, and tommy with worry. 

"yeah, of course, dream. anytime. call me if you need absolutely anything. text me when you get home safe, ok?" 

dream stiffly nodded. "o-of course, sir." he said, hurrying out the door to avoid their reactions. 

sometimes he wondered how he was so damn good at those debates, those arguments that never seemed to end, and then turn around and whimper at the sheer voice of his father. 

maybe it was an instinct? 

whatever it was, dream shook it off and focused his mind on running home. the debate in his mind didn't matter now, only getting home. 

"dad, i swear to god-" wilbur said, struggling against phil's grasp. the man wouldn't let his son go out of the door to chase after his friend. 

"wilbur." he said, calmly. "you know this will only hurt him more." 

wilbur slowly stopped. "i- i know, i know, but-" he sighed. "what are they doing to him? he just- he just called you sir. no normal teenager would call anyone that, especially not their father figure!" 

tommy sighed, helping pack the monopoly board into the box with tubbo. "i hate to say this, but i agree with wilbur." he straightened the money out. "he's not good- he's not safe, mentally." 

phil groaned. "i know. i know, boys. but there's nothing we can do about it. they have money; in this world, that's more of an advantage than any amount of evidence." 

wilbur went to sit back down next to tommy. the blonde leaned his head on the taller's shoulder, hiding his face, but being careful not to affect his bruise.

tubbo stood up and hugged his father, who embraced his son tightly. 

"i hate this." the shortest mumbled. "i hate this- h-having to sit back, not being able to do anything, not being able to help-" he shook his head. "i hate this." 

phil nodded and exhaled, letting his face rest in his son's hair. "i know, mate. i know."  

Chapter Text

george was late. 

dream had been standing outside the library for the past 2, 5, 10 minutes, waiting for george to show. 

after way too many complaints from his parents, dream finally decided to get academic help. 

and if that was through george helping him with his trigonometry homework the night before a quiz, then that was good enough (it wasn't, though, because nothing was good enough for his parents, not even when he's trying his absolute hardest). 

dream was tapping his foot against the cold, dirty floor. he didn't stay post-session often, usually going straight to debate club or detention. but, today, he was keeping his movements quiet. the librarian had already scolded him twice for the tapping, even though he swore that he was sorry, but he really couldn't control it. 

suddenly, a blur dressed in a light blue sweatshirt and dark blue jeans slammed into his, causing him to stumble back a few steps. he muttered a quiet 'shit' as he dropped his folder, spilling papers across the hallway. 

"sorry!" the shorter yelled, bending down to pick up some of the papers he spilled. "sorry, dream, i didn't mean to be late," george repeated. 

dream smiled, accepting the put-together stack of papers. "it's alright, georgie!" he responded, knowing the older would hate the nickname. "we can just get started now." 

george nodded. "yeah, yeah. let's go." 

they walked into the library and sat in the back, far enough away so that they could talk quietly without being caught. 

"so," dream whispered, taking out a pencil. "why were you late?" 

george sighed. "i forgot i had planned something with sapnap a few weeks ago for today. it completely slipped my mind when you asked for my help on monday. 

dream furrowed his brows. "then, what are you doing here?" 

george stopped his movements of taking out a notebook. "what do you mean? i'm here to tutor you." 

dream huffed. "i know that, idiot. what i mean is, why aren't you with sapnap?" 

"well, i wasn't about to just blow you off. it wasn't anything important, anyway." george muttered, taking off his sweatshirt. "we were just gonna pull pranks on tommy and tubbo." 

dream shrugged. "i don't mind you going to do that, instead." 

george raised an eyebrow. "are you sure? you said you needed help badly." 

dream nodded, tapping his pen against the desk. "of course, i don't mind! go," he shoved the papers back inside the folder, "go have fun with sap! i'll talk to you later, alright?" he shoved his folder and notebook into his bag, leaving george's things alone on the table. 

"dream, i can spend some time here-" 

"gotta go, george!" he waved, jogging out of the library. "talk to you later!" 

he heard a call of 'dream, wait!' and 'be quiet!' as he ran out, running out of the building and getting on his skateboard. he rode for a while, not putting on music, just enjoying the sounds of nature as the traffic grew further and further away.

when he got home, dream threw his phone on the couch, clearing the frantic texts from george and the worried ones from sapnap. he only responded to phil, saying that he couldn't make it to dinner tonight because of trigonometry homework. 

not bothering to wait for the responses, he got straight to work, finishing english and history within an hour. using the extra time, he decided to get some laundry done and put it away. 

by the time that was done, he fed patches, and moved to the dreaded math work. 

the beginning was simple, factoring rational expressions. it was simple enough that, although it took him longer than it would've for most kids, he got it done, and got most of it right. 

however, looking at the rest of the paper, dream already got a headache. 

he didn't know what to do when the sheet asked him to turn 180 degrees in pi, or 3pi/4 into degrees. 

so, logically, he put those questions behind to work on when he had the rest done. he skipped to questions 11-16. 

11. the line is rotated by 289 degrees. find your answer using the secant function. round to the nearest ten-thousandth. 

what.

ok, maybe 11-16 wasn't the best idea. how about...ah, questions 17-22. 

17. what is the exact value of the trigonometric function. 
    rotation: -150 degrees, secant function. 

dream wanted to slam his head against the wall. 

the remaining questions demanded reference angles, radians, amplitudes, graphing functions- 

the word blurred together, so dream slammed his hands down on the table. his calculator bounced up a bit, the pencil rolling off the disturbed surface and onto the floor. he gripped his hair in his hands and pulled, groaning as his eyes stung and throat began to hurt. 

patches jumped onto the table, rubbing her head against his in as much comfort as she could give. 

he loved the cat, he really did, and he'd make sure to give her lots of treats, attention, and cuddles later for this, but he shooed her away. "not now, patches." his strained voice supplied. 

he gulped and grabbed a second pencil, gripping it tight enough to turn his knuckles white and pain his hands. he glanced at the final question and groaned. 

labeling the unit circle. 

collecting a few breaths, he decided on where to place the √2/2, √3, 1, 1/2, and all other values. 

soon enough (if an hour of doing one problem counted as soon), dream was complete. lines and dots were labeled with combinations of (0,1), (√3/2,-√1/2), (-1,0), (√2/2,√2/2)- you get the point. 

relieved, dream smiled, glad that he could finally finish something. he grabbed his computer and typed away, looking for a picture of a labeled unit circle to show that what he did was right. 

dream selected the biggest image and zoomed in, comparing it to the answers on his paper. 

it was all wrong. 

the ones replaced the square roots, negatives where there should be positives, and numbers jumbled together that didn't even make sense. 

dream grabbed his pencil and aggressively scrubbed the pink rubber against the paper. frustrated tears blurred his vision, a choked sob escaping his throat as he scratched the paper over and over. maybe, maybe, if he could just do something right, anything, just once, he could-

dream hadn't realized he ripped a hole into the paper, the eraser at a burning temperature, and homework such a mess that his teacher would think his dog eating it was an excuse. 

dream was over this. 

he pushed the chair out of the desk, grabbed his phone and earbuds, skateboard, and left the house. 

he hadn't realized how much time had passed, going back and forth, back and forth between questions took him four hours. 

it was already 9 o'clock. 

he switched his phone to do not disturb, clearing, but not reading, messages from friends and going straight to spotify. his go-to album at times like this was 'lemon boy' by cavetown. 

so, he played 'fool' and rode down the streets, going on the back roads that he knew the cops wouldn't be checking until 2 a.m. 

dream kept going through the quiet town, riding along back roads and letting the cool wind take him away. 

when he got to the main road, he stopped until bright headlights disappeared, declaring it safe to go. he kicked the board up once across, carrying it up the grassy hill. 

not too deep into the forest was a place not many knew about, a place far enough away so that dream could call it his own. 

passing the abandoned building he had spent too many nights smoking in, he went straight to the water's edge. the hill had almost a hang over the water, like a cliff with no base. on that small overhang was a stable gazebo. 

he sighed and sat down on the bench. when the cold wind bit at his nose, he laughed. it reminded dream of a simpler time when his parents stuck around and his grandmother was still alive. 

dream laughed giddily as he hopped out of the car, short legs running up the steep, rocky driveway. he almost made it to the top without tripping, but failed, and started falling face first towards the ground. 

luckily, however, larger, more frail hands scooped under his shoulders and hoisted the six-year-old into her arms. "hello, there, kiddo! you gotta be more careful." 

dream nodded, puffing up his checks. 

"did the rocks get'cha before me?" she asked. 

he nodded once again, pointing down to the scrapes on his knees. 

she sighed. "i see. how about we go fix that up, yeah? then, we can make those cookies i told you about last time."  

dream smiled and nodded. his grandmother carried him to the bathroom, sitting him down on the counter and grabbing some soap and water. "it might sting a bit, but we're gonna keep it nice and clean. you're gonna be nice and brave, right?" 

"mhm!" he said. "the bravest." 

the older woman chuckled. "yes, dream. the bravest." 

though it stung a bit, dream never said a word of complaint. sooner than he expected, though, there was a bandage being wrapped around his knee. "all done!" she said. "you did great." 

dream beamed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand as he sniffled. his grandmother grabbed a tissue and wiped his nose. "'m mad." he huffed, crossing his arms. 

she furrowed her brows. "mad at who, dream?" 

"'da rocks. they hurt me." 

she chuckled, picking him up and taking him out the door just next to the bathroom. 

"it happens, from time to time, dream." she spoke, walking to the swing in the garden. "but you just have to be better than the rocks." 

he tilted his head like a confused puppy. "how?" 

she sighed, sitting them down and rocking back and forth. "well, for example, say the wind bites your nose. it's gonna sting your fingertips, your toes, your ears. all those itty bitty parts of your body, the wind is gonna bite at. 'you sit there and gonna enjoy that?" 

dream shook his head frantically. "no, ma'am. no, thank you." 

she nodded, "right. so, if the wind bites you," she poked his nose, "then you, good sir, must bite it right back." 

"i can bite the wind?" he asked, curiously. 

she hummed. "with all your might. 

he smiled. "i'll get it good. with a big chomp." he demonstrated his actions, teeth clicking together. 

"i bet you will, dream." she chuckled. "i bet you will." 

dream sighed, running a hand through his hair. he turned, grabbing some grass just outside the gazebo and ripping it up, then throwing it in the air. it all blew to his right. 

naturally, dream turned to his left, the way the wind was blowing, and biting the air. 

it may have looked weird, but it felt good.

so, he bit again. and again, and again, and again, and-

dream sat, biting the air until his jaw hurt and the song had changed a few times. 

sighing, he unlocked his phone and looked at the most recent messages from the group chat. 

phil

just let us know how you are
and hopefully your math isn't too difficult :) 

george

yeah
idrk what happened
but we're all here for you
no matter what you need, we're always here to listen. 

he was sure they wouldn't understand this. 

well, maybe that wasn't what he needed. 

he was sure they wouldn't care. they wouldn't listen, they wouldn't pay attention, they would yell, they would turn him away. 

dream laid down on the bench and got comfy, setting a timer for 2 hours. 

maybe it was better to layout in the cold for a while rather than bother his friends. 

'yeah,' he thought, as sleep began to tug on his sleeves, 'good idea, dream.' 

Chapter Text

dream woke up outside. 

just looking at the sky, he could tell that it was not the time he set the alarm to. it should've been dark out if he had woke up at midnight as he had planned to. 

it was a lot colder than dream anticipated, he woke up cold and shivering, hands turning white. 

he shook his head, letting out a deep breath that visualized in the frigid air. the small cloud disappeared after only a moment, filtering back into the heavy air. 

grabbing the frozen brick that was his phone, dream turned it on to see that it was already 5 a.m.. no wonder the sky was much lighter than he had thought it would be. 

he had never been more disappointed than right now, when he realized he set the alarm for 12 p.m. rather than 12 a.m.. 

dream sat up, rubbing his hands together quickly and breathing onto them. he wiggled his toes, discovering that they were quite cold and almost hurt to move. 

he rolled his neck and decided to get up. he should probably get home, since he'd be waking up in an hour on any regular day. 

he took the shortcut through the park, a clean pathway right next to the frosted grass, where night flowers were finally folding back in on themselves to hide for the day. 

he wanted to whistle, but his purple lips and chattering teeth made it a bit difficult to do so. he would've been home even sooner if not the tall figure he saw in the distance. 

thinking it was a hallucination, dream brought a cold hand out of his pocket and rubbed his eyes. when he looked again, the silhouette was still there. 

"r-ranboo?" he called. 

the blonde whipped his head in the direction of the quiet call. "dream?" 

he nodded, jogging over to the younger of the two. he looked confused, out of it, like he didn't know how he got here. 

"what are you doing out here at five in the morning, ranboo?" he asked, concern laced in his voice. 

"i-" he swallowed, "i sleepwalked again, i guess. don't really know how i ended up...here." he rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, letting out a low chuckle. "i don't- don't really know where here is, either." 

dream raised his eyebrows. "you're lost?" 

ranboo sighed. "way to put it nicely, there, dream." 

dream laughed. "your house is only a few minutes from here, boo. i can bring you there, if you'd like?" 

he nodded. "please." 

"of course," dream smiled, "let's go." 

they began to walk and, when dream noticed ranboo's anxious picking at his fingers, he grabbed the other's hand. it was equally as cold as dream's, so he didn't feel too bad at his own temperature. 

after two minutes of walking, with about three to go, ranboo turned to dream. "you never did explain why you were out here yourself." 

dream sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "i fell asleep on a bench for a little longer than anticipated." 

ranboo furrowed his brows. "if you were intentionally outside, why aren't you wearing a coat?" 

dream cringed. "i, um...i forgot it, yeah." he felt ranboo tense up beside him. "don't worry about it, alright? it was nothing but a mishap. nothing to fret over." 

hesitantly, ranboo nodded and continued to walk. "you look cold." 

"i am." he laughed. "i am a bit cold, but aren't we both?" 

"but," ranboo swallowed, "if you keep walking with me, you'll get farther from your house. i don't want you to go out of your way and, besides, i know how to get home from here." 

"i'm not letting you walk home at 5 in the morning alone," dream said. "even if you brought yourself out here, you don't have to go back alone, too." 

ranboo's house was in sight now, and the younger was thankful for that. "you're quite stubborn, dream."

he smiled, gently jutting his elbow into ranboo's side. "what am i here for, if not to be a pain in your ass?" 

ranboo chuckled as they reached his front lawn. "thanks for...bringing me home, i guess. see you later?" 

dream nodded. "you bet! see you at lunch, ranboo!" he said, watching to make sure the other got inside before turning to walk back home. 

his nose twitched at a wintry temperature as he continued on, knowing that it'd take around 15 minutes to get home. 

god, dream was cold. 

it was only third period, and dream felt like death itself. 

his nose was runny, his throat was scratchy, limbs were sore. he had a massive headache and felt completely exhausted, the only thing keeping him awake in his classes being his hacking cough. he was miserable. 

so, maybe it wasn't that good of an idea to sleep outside. 

he kept pushing, though, until he inevitably made it to lunch. he dragged himself to his usual table and collapsed, shoving his head into his arms. 

the cafeteria quickly filled with people, loud noises not helping with the banging headache in his mind. 

"you look like shit, dream." 

the man in question picked his head up again, looking the blonde teen in the eyes. 

"not in the mood, tommy." he murmured, burying his face back into the darkness his arms formed, blocking out the harsh lights that hurt his eyes. 

"geez, dream." ranboo said. "'you been feeling like this all day?" 

he hummed in response, not moving from his position. 

"let me feel your head, big man." tubbo asked. 

he picked his head up slightly, eyes still closed as tubbo pressed the back of his hand against dream's forehead. 

"yikes," he said, "you're burning up." 

"he's got a fever?" ranboo asked. 

dream blocked out their talking as he kept his eyes closed, annoyed at the world for no apparent reason. 

"did you hear me, big d?" tommy asked, gently tapping his shoulder. 

"hmm?" dream questioned, completely out of it. 

tommy frowned. "dadza's gonna come pick you up. he'll be here in a few minutes to sign you out." 

dream shook his head. "no. 'gotta help boo with a presentation today. 's ninth period, today." 

"it's a group project, dream. i'm not gonna be the only one." he sighed, running a hair through dream's hair. dream hummed. "besides, you've helped me enough, i can do the final part alone. i won't be mad." 

"'mkay. ju's wanna make sure." he said. 

"you don't need to jeopardize your health for my project." ranboo said. 

"you guys get to eatin', 'm gonna take dream down to the nurse's office. he'll be there when dad gets here." tubbo said.  

"alright, see you in a bit!" tommy said. 

tubbo grabbed his hand and walked with him down to the front lobby, but to dream, everything passed in a blur. 

dream woke up to the end of the buzzing of his phone. 

he groaned, sitting up and examining the room. he was in his own bed, his own room, his own house. 

beside him was a thermos, a food thermos, his phone, and a note. he picked up the note first, flicking the light on the nightstand to get a better look. 

dream, 

 hey mate! it's phil here :) just writing this to let you know that i brought you home, you were pretty out of it so i doubt you'll remember. there's some soup and tea right next to you. i'd love to have stayed and helped you out some more, but i had to get back to work (or i would've been fired!). so, sorry about that. 

take care of yourself and let me know if you're feeling any better later! i'll come around to check on you after work tonight. 

get some rest, mate. 

-phil

he smiled at the note before grabbing the taller thermos. steam rose out of the top of the container, disappearing as the drink was exposed to the colder air. 

he took a sip from the hot beverage and sighed at the relief of pain from his throat. his phone buzzed again, so he reached for it and looked at the notification. 

mother

why were you absent from school today?
you better not be skipping class, dream

 i'm not. 
        i was sick, you can ask mr. minecraft. 
        he brought me home.

you have to stop bothering that man, dream. 

        he says i'm not bothering him. 
        tells me to call whenever i need. 

you need to grow up and stop relying on him. 

dream only rolled his eyes and shut off the device, tossing it across the room. he really didn't have the energy to deal with her right now. 

he smiled, grabbing the soup and spoon and sitting up, before eating some. he blew on each spoonful, hoping to cool the scalding meal before it burnt his tongue. 

around half an hour later, he put his things to the side and turned off the light. dream rolled back under the covers, closing his eyes and drifting off again. 

when phil came around later, he might not have requested any more help when he really needed it. when the blonde asked if his parents made any comments, he said no. when he asked why dream was sick and if he had been taking care of himself, he answered yes and shrugged it off, saying 'germs.' 

when he went to school the next day, not fully healthy, he turned away the concern from his friends. 

but, dream ate the soup. so, that was a start. 

Chapter Text

dream repeatedly clicked his pen, over and over in the same beat that his foot was tapping against the floor. the only other people in the room were friends of his, so they had no problems or complaints about the small, slightly irritating noises. 

he stared blankly at the sheet, eyes flying over the same chemical formula, again and again, the combination of capitals, lowercase, and numbers not registering in any part of his brain. 

dream continued to stare at supposed redox reaction, trying to understand the question until... 

a loud crash caused dream to jump out of his skin. his pen flew out of his hand and rolled across the tile floor, stopping at the leg of another chair. he tugged out his earbuds and turned around, seeing glass all over the floor. 

"you fucking idiot, tubbo." tommy said, grabbing his hair in his hands and pacing the room. 

the dirty floor was covered in glass shards of what used to be a graduated cylinder, along with a mess of phenolphthalein spiling all around. tubbo jumped out of the way of the moving liquid. wilbur was still holding the beaker of sodium hydroxide, and dream was extremely relieved that that was the one liquid that stayed in its container. 

"shit," wilbur muttered, frantically searching for a place to put the beaker. he placed it on a high-up shelf, hoping that there was no way it could be knocked over. 

"put your goggles on, tommy!" tubbo screeched, hitting his arm. he stepped onto the chair, getting the high ground from the chemical compound leaking across the ground. 

"what the hell are you guys doing?" dream asked from across the room. 

"we had to make up a lab!" tommy defended, raising his hands in surrender. "shit, ms. jefferson is gonna kill us." 

dream furrowed his brows. "it shouldn't be that big a deal, ey? it was an accident." 

wilbur scoffed. "yeah, our third accident this year. we caused a lot of shit in class today, that's why we're here. she's- shit, she's gonna be pissed." 

dream got up and approached the group, before being stopped by wilbur's hand. 

"what the hell are you doing, dude?!" he demanded, bewildered at his casual approach to the scene. 

"i'm helping you clean this shit up before she gets in here." dream responded, grabbing a pair of gloves from the table. 

"you can't!" tubbo said. "this shit is practically toxic, you have nowhere near the appropriate amount of safety gear on." 

dream huffed. "if we do this quick enough, it won't matter." 

with one glove on, the door flung open, revealing a disheveled woman. "what is all that ruckus?!" she yelled. 

the scene unfolding in front of her must be interesting enough. three tall teenagers standing around a broken chemistry experiment, with a shorter one standing on a chair. one of which wasn't even supposed to be near the stuff. 

"what is going on? who broke this? what-" she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "you all have 30 seconds to explain what the hell is going on in here, or i swear to god, i'll get all three of you suspended." ms. jefferson pointed to the group of brothers. 

dream cringed, seeing the scared looks on all three of their faces. "i did it!" he said, raising his hand. all four people in the room stared at him, mostly expressions of confusion and shock, but one of pure anger. 

"excuse me, mr. taken?" she asked, crossing her arms. 

"i'm sorry, ma'am. it's my fault. they were doing their experiment like they should've and...i threw a ball of paper over. i didn't mean to break anything; i apologize." 

the woman scoffed. "you have some fu- freakin' nerve, dream, to come into my classroom after hours for 'extra help,'" she started, walking towards them, "only to not get any work done, and interfere with the work of other students. not only will they have to start over, but you endangered them and yourself!" she yelled. 

"i- i know, i'm deeply sorry-" 

"save it for the principal." she said, putting her arms around his shoulders and guiding him to the front of the room. "toss your glove, unless you want to contaminate the doors, too." she spat. 

he nodded, pulling off the blue latex-free material and throwing it into the trash can beside the door. he caught one last glance of his friend's sympathetic faces before he encouraged to leave the room, too. 

god, this would be a long night. 

luckily for dream, he managed to not get suspended. 

it shocked him more than it did ms. jefferson. the lies of 'i didn't know what they were using' and 'i didn't realize they had even started' mixed with his sympathetic tone was enough to convince the principal he was actually tired. 

of course, there was still some punishment. he would have stay after school next friday and help with the chem club's science fair, but he supposed that was better than detention or suspension. 

dream headed home soon after grabbing his bookbag, unable to talk to his friends because of the addition of ms. jefferson to the room. dream gave them a discreet thumbs-up before leaving the room, grabbing his skateboard from his locker, and riding home. 

no more than an hour later, dream received a phone call from tommy. he decided to place the sketchbook he was doodling in on his desk and collapsed onto his bed, answering the call. 

"hello?" he asked, changing it to speaker. 

"big d! what is up?" tommy screamed. 

dream chuckled. "nothing much, toms! just...hanging around. you know how it is." 

"yeah, yeah...i got tubso with me, too! wilbur's playing his guitar, though, so he couldn't join us." 

"hi dream!" tubbo yelled from across the room. 

"hey tubs!" he yelled. "what's up with you two?" 

"oh, yeah." tommy laughed. "i just wanted to thank you for earlier. you really- you didn't have to do that, big man." 

"oh, that?" he asked, tossing a bouncy ball in the air. "no big deal."

"but-" tommy started, but was cut off before his sentence could be completed.

"why'd you do it, anyway?" tubbo asked, voice much quieter than tommy's. 

dream shrugged. "dunno." he answered. "i figured, 'hey, i get in enough trouble on a normal basis, what's another hit?' plus, i'd rather get into shit with the teachers than you three idiots." 

"hey!" tommy yelled. "we are not idiots!" 

"you guys knocked over a container of phenolphthalein! i think that counts as being a fucking idiot!" 

tommy scoffed, and they continued their bickering for a while. eventually, they changed to simply talking, whether about their days, their friends, or random shit they learned throughout the day. 

at some point, around 6 o'clock, dream heard a knock on his door, distracting him from the call. he didn't have plans with anyone, so it's not any of his friends. he didn't order any food, so it's not that. maybe it's something his parents ordered? or-

"you still there, dream?" tommy asked. 

"what? oh, yeah, sorry. someone's at my door." he responded. 

tommy hummed. "who is it?" 

"'don't know. lemme go check." he said, taking the phone off speaker and pulling to his ear. "you guys are coming with me, by the way." 

he started walking to the door as tommy replied a simple 'ok!' and continued. 

"you know, i'm surprised i didn't get a call from my parents about school today." he said, shutting the door. "maybe they didn't check their phones." 

"probably, but i'm glad they left you alone about it." tommy said. 

dream chuckled, padding across the cold floors with patches running in between his legs. "i never said i wasn't, i just-" 

he stopped suddenly when he swung open the door, revealing the last two people he expected to see. 

"dream? you there, big man?" tommy asked. 

right in front of him, in real life, were his parents. his parents. 

"i-" he swallowed. "i'm gonna have to call you back, tommy." 

"what? is everything ok? are you-" he cut tommy short with the click of the red 'end call button on the screen, shoving his phone into his back pocket. 

"what- what are you guys doing home?" he sputtered. 

his father scoffed. "not even a 'hello, i missed you' to your own parents? tough crowd." 

dream stood frozen at the door, unknowing of what to do. 

"are you going to move, dream?" his mother asked, annoyed. "i'd like to enter my own house." 

dream nodded, blinking a few times. "y-yeah, sorry." he opened the door further, stepping to the side as they pulled their suitcases into the house. patches jumped at the unfamiliar faces, hiding behind dream's legs, shaking in fear of new people. 

he frowned, scooping her up. he really didn't want to spend any more time with them than necessary, so he walked towards the stairs before they could get a word in. 

"i'm going to finish homework, i'll come back for dinner!" he said, running up as quick as possible. 

ignoring their murmuring, he closed the door of his room and leaned against it, sinking to the floor. patches ran out of his arms and dashed across the room to her bed, hiding inside. 

"fuck..." he muttered, wiping his face with his hands aggressively. 

dream pulled out his phone to see a few worried messages from tommy and tubbo in their brothers group chat, asking if he was ok and what happened. he thought he should respond before something went down like it surely would. it happened every year. 

three big men (and wilbur ig)

tommy

you left kinda quick
is everything ok?
who was there?

tubbo

yeah! just let us know if you're alright :) 

dream

unexpected vistors. 
i might be able to call back later, but if not, i'll see you monday. 

wilbur

monday? 
it's friday, dream
you'll see us tonight for our regular sleepover, right?

dream 

i don't think i can make it, sorry. 

tommy

what?!

tubbo 

:( 

wilbur

are you ok?
what happened?
do i need to get phil?

dream

sorry :(
ttyl. 

he shut off his ringer as more pings ran through the device. maybe he should brush his hair, change his shirt, clean up a bit. 

after all, dream was about to have the first dinner with his strict ass parents in a year, and he wasn't expecting it to go well. 

Chapter Text

dream sighed deeply as he looked in the mirror, observing his now-brushed hair and better clothing. he had swapped his sweatpants out with a pair of jeans, the blue denim seeming more professional to fit the high standards of his horrible loving parents (seriously, why were they still wearing suits at home?). 

the large, graphic t-shirt he had been wearing had been replaced with a sweatshirt. not too professional, but it would work. the familiar green was said to 'echo' his eyes by his grandmother, but his parents had only said wearing hoodies and sweatpants to school made him look like a 'slob.' 

his constant staring over his face, searching for any mistakes, any flaws that his parents could possibly complain about was interrupted by a sturdy knock on the door. 

"yes, sir?" dream asked, trying to prevent his uneven voice from shaking. 

"we are going to pick up food, dream. neither me or your mother are up to cook. we should be back in 15 minutes or so." his father said strongly. 

dream hummed. "a-alright. i'll...i'll be here, i guess." 

"you better be." he grumbled. footsteps sounded outside his door, growing continuously quiet as his father walked further down the hall and away from the door. 

the garage opened, causing patches to jump from her slumber. awake, she padded across the room to see dream. 

"hey, girl." he said softly, scratching behind her ear gently. "you're so sweet, aren't you?" 

she answered by nudging her head into his hand, purring loudly. he chuckled, fulling intent on staying there for the next 15 minutes until there was a knock at the door. 

he sighed. "who could that be, patchy?" he asked her, obviously not receiving an answer. 

dream turned to the door, jogging down the stairs and to the door, in case it was his parents forgetting something. he wouldn't want to upset them by being slow. 

swinging open the door to reveal three teens, very separate in height, he sighed. 

"oh, hey-" 

"dream!" tommy shouted, running through the doorframe and into the house to give him a hug. he stumbled back slightly before hugging the shorter back. 

"hi, yes, it's me." dream said, chuckling. "what's got you all worked up?" 

tommy pulled back and, before he could even open his mouth, was interrupted by tubbo. 

"tommy was convinced you died!" he claimed. 

"tubbo, you bastard!" he said, lightly shoving the younger. "that was a secret!" 

"not a very well kept one!" 

"well, not now, obviously!" 

"i-" 

dream sighed, turning to wilbur. "what are you guys doing here?" 

wilbur smiled. "we came to check up on you! y'know, since you didn't show tonight?" the brunette offered. 

dream nodded. "well, all is well. thanks for coming." he said, shutting the door. 

"woah, woah, woah," tommy placed a hand on the door and stopped its movements, "what do you think you're doing?" 

"uh, going inside?" he responded. 

"nuh-uh." tubbo said. "what happened earlier?" 

dream gulped. "nothing. i can- i'll explain at a different time. look," he said, checking the time. he had about five minutes until his parents should return, "you guys should really get going." 

"what? why?!" tommy demanded. 

"i don't- i don't have time. just-" 

"at least do the birthday thing with us quick." wilbur pleaded. 

dream raised a brow. "...the birthday thing?" 

wilbur sighed. "for mr. hugh's birthday, remember? our drama teacher? we're all singing for his birthday. you're s'posed to send in a voice memo of your recording so we can loop them all together." 

dream nodded and took out his phone, opening the voice memo app. "ready?" they all nodded and he pressed record. 

the four of them sang a basic 'happy birthday' song, finishing rather quickly. 

he pressed the finish button, not bothering to check if it actually stopped recording or not. "there, happy now?" 

wilbur beamed and nodded. "great!"

tubbo nodded. "agreed. we'll leave now, but you have to promise to call us later." 

dream smiled. "'will do. 'night, guys." 

"goodnight, dream!" tubbo said, waving as dream shut the door. 

he sighed, shoving the phone back in his pocket and walking to the bathroom. he ran his hands under the faucet, cold water collecting in his palms. he closed his eyes and splashed it across his face drying it with a towel from the cabinet under the sink. it woke him up a bit. 

a few deep breaths and nervous thoughts later, the garage door reopened and his parents reentered the house. 

he dried his hands and turned the doorknob, not ready to face the next hour of inevitable disaster. 

salad. 

out of all things, his parents had picked up a salad. 

now, dream wasn't going to complain, obviously. he wasn't trying to get them to yell. they haven't yet, and it's been two hours, so it's been a pretty good run already. maybe even a record number!

so, he silently settled at the table, beginning to dig into the food in front of him that wouldn't even begin to fill his stomach. 

"so," his mother started, "i got another call from your school today, dream." she said coldly.

"yeah." he responded. "surprised? what did i do wrong this time?" he asked rhetorically. 

his father scoffed. "you broke science equipment that you weren't even permitted to be near, dream. take this seriously. you could've hurt someone." 

dream hummed, swallowing the food he was chewing. "i didn't actually break it, though. i was covering for someone. they would've gotten in much deeper sh- trouble than i." 

his mother huffed. "that's it, dream! i am done with your lies!" she screamed. 

he flinched back, unprepared for the sudden outburst. "w-what?! i'm not lying, i- i swear!" 

"how can i trust you? all you ever do it break our rules!" she shouted back. "you're constantly getting in our way and interrupting our days!" 

"do you want an apology?" he asked, getting a death stare from both of his parents. "i'm sorry," he said disingenuine, "but you can always ignore it. i never meant to. but you've never cared about my life before, why start now?" 

dream's father scoffed. "you cannot seriously be acting like that right now."

"you don't care, though." he said. "you only care when i get into trouble when i don't live up to your god-level expectations that are impossible for anyone to reach!" 

"no, dream." his mother said. "you don't care. you don't care about us, your grades, or anything but yourself." 

dream scoffed. "i put my own reputation on the line for my friends all the damn time!" 

"dream taken!" his father screamed. 

"no! listen to me for once, please! just- just act like my parents for once in your goddamn lives!" 

"you better stop while you can still fix this, young man!" his mother threatened. 

"you guys neglect me!" he retorted. "you neglect me, and ignore me, and only contact me when you can take your anger out of your son, or when it benefits you!" 

he was screaming now, knowing full well that he shouldn't be. "you don't have to put your hands on me to be abusive, 'cause that's exactly what you are! you- you guys are fucking abusers!" 

his father's eyes flashed with an amount of anger he had never seen before, an amount that made him want to get down on his hands and knees and beg for forgiveness before this got even worse. but, he needed this, so he continued.

"there is no way you think that." his mother said. 

"do you seriously believe that?" his father practically roared, pushing his seat back and standing up. "who put that sick idea in your head, son? was it that damn 'mr. minecraft' man down the street?!" 

frustration and rage flowed through dream's mind. "phil has been more of a father to me than you ever have been!" he screamed, standing up and slamming his fork down on the table. 

silence filled the room, his mother even stopping the chewing of her basic, dry salad. 

"get out of my house." his father spoke lowly. 

dream's eyes widened practically flying out of his head. "what-" 

"get the fuck out of my house!" he blared. 

"i have nowhere to go!" he said. "where am i supposed to go?" 

his father scoffed, sitting back down and picking at the lettuce. "not forever, dream. but i refuse to stay under the same roof as my son as long as he disrespects me like that." 

his mother swallowed. "you be out of this house within the next five minutes. you can come back once we leave again." 

"b-but that's in three days?!" 

the man grunted, reaching across the table and slapping dream in the face. the sting was overwhelming; he reached up and held his cheek. a sickening smack echoed through the room."now, dream." his father said. 

he shakily shoved his plate back, pushing in his chair. "y-yes, sir." 

dream ran to his room, tears blinding his vision. it was friday, meaning he'd still be kicked out by the time school rolled around. he grabbed his backpack and threw his unimportant folder and notebook out, shoving a jacket, shirt, and sweatpants inside. dream tugged his phone charger out of the wall and put it where the pencils are in the smaller pocket. 

he grabbed his sneakers and slid them on without untying them. he slung the straps over his shoulders and walked to the window. he didn't want to risk anything else with the assholes in the other room, so he decided to slide of the old fire escape on the side of the house. it wasn't very sturdy, but dream was willing to risk it. 

"i'll be back in a few days, patches." he said, scratching her head. "i promise, i love you." 

he gave a small kiss to the top of her head and climbed out the window, closing it behind him. he quietly walked down the metal stairs, hopping off the end and onto the ground. his tears stung with the harsh wind and, as much as he didn't want to burden anyone, he shouldn't get sick again. 

george, sapnap, and quackity were all immediately crossed off his list. their parents weren't the biggest fans of him, solely because of his school record. no matter how many times his friends tried to convince them, they never liked him. 

he couldn't go to ranboo, either. ranboo's mother was a single mother and, although she loved dream to death, he couldn't burden her with the responsibility of another child for the next three days, especially with her working two jobs and already being a bit tight on cash. 

dream wasn't close enough with any of his other friends to show up to their homes, so, that left none other than dad phil

he pulled out his phone, eyes widening in horror when he realized that the voice memo had never actually ended, and that entire fight had been recorded. yet, something in the back of his mind told him not to delete it, a nagging voice demanding that he save it. who knows, it could come in handy later. 

dream ended it, saving it under 'fight #10000" and exiting the app. he went to phil's contact, wiping off the tears dropping onto the screen every few seconds. 

as the phone rang in his ear, he ran down the street. phil's house was a normal 15-minute walk away, but it could take him just a few to run there. 

his feet collided with the pavement. the night was quiet, dark skies and quiet wind accompanied by the chirping of crickets and loud footsteps. he grunted when the call went to voicemail. 

his only other hope was one of the others. out of breath, he sobbed into the air, shakily trying to get to wilbur's contact. 

he tripped, denim protecting his knees, but his left hand was cut open along the bottom. he cringed, sucking in a breath. yet, he got up and continued running. 

"hey dream! you called!" wilbur's cheery voice rang. 

"y-yeah. 'guess i did." he chuckled through tears. 

he could practically hear the confusion written on the other's face. "is something wrong, dream?" 

dream nodded, letting out another involuntary sob. 

"are you ok, dream? what-" 

"c-can you get phil, please?" he begged. "i- i called him, bu-but he didn't answer; i ne-need him, wil." 

he heard shuffling from wilbur's side. "of course, of course. his phone just died, sorry 'bout that. here, i'm handing him the phone." 

dream muttered a quiet 'thank you' before a few seconds of silence passed. he slowed his running to a walk. 

"hello? dream?" 

"p-hil." he said. "phil, oh my god." 

"hey, kid. is- are you alright? where are you?" 

"i- i know i said i wasn't coming tonight, b-but i need to." he admitted. "i need- c-can i still come over?" 

phil sighed. "of course you can, dream. you're always welcome, no matter what. you know that. do you-" he paused, "do you need me to come to pick you up? where are you?" 

dream sniffled. "no, no, it's ok. i'm- 'm almost there. don't worry." 

"you sure, kiddo?" 

"mhm. 'm sure." dream took a deep breath. "thank you, phil. i'll be there soon." 

"be safe, dream. call me back if you need anything. i'll be waiting." phil said. 

dream hummed and hung up, shoving the phone back in his pocket. only a few minutes. 

phil handed the phone back to his son, thanking him quietly for relaying the call. 

"is dream alright, dad?" his oldest son asked. "he seemed upset." 

phil nodded. "he was. he...he definitely was. but," he swallowed, "we'll figure it out." he sighed, letting his hands fall to his side. "i'm gonna go...make some popcorn for your movie, alright?" 

wilbur nodded. "ok, i'll go back to the boys, then." 

"you do that, bud." he lightly clapped wilbur's shoulder, giving a gentle smile. the teen returned it and left the room. 

phil walked to the entryway and, although he was near the kitchen, he didn't go where he told them he would. he paced the floor, seconds feelings like hours as he waited for his son son's friend to burst through the door, wanting him to be nothing but joyful. 

that isn't how it went, though, when three minutes passed and a quiet knock sounded on the door. phil jumped immediately, running to the door and opening it. 

there stood his son the teen, a bright red mark on his cheek and a bleeding hand. there stood his son the teen, with red, puffy eyes and way too many tears. 

phil ushered him inside, closing the door behind him. "dream, i-" 

when he turned around, the taller boy didn't say anything. he did, however, discard his bag onto the floor and drop his head so that his forehead laid on phil's shoulder. 

it had to be an uncomfortable angle, phil was sure of it, but the teen seemed to want nothing more than to be held. 

phil sighed, wrapping his arms around the younger boy. it wasn't returned, but after what it looks like the kid had gone through, the older was perfectly fine with that. 

"you're safe, dream." he whispered. "i promise. i'm here, and you're safe now." 

dream nodded against his shoulder, sniffling again and rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. 

"dad!" wilbur called, as three pairs of footsteps pummeled towards the room. "is the popcorn-" his shouting stopped, "-ready?" he finished, much quieter. 

for a brief moment, phil wondered what the scene looked like to them. their father holding their friend, who looked nothing short of what could only be summed up as a mess, standing in their kitchen at 6:39 p.m.. 

"dad?" tommy whispered, sounding scared. 

"go back to the living room, boys." he said, still holding dream tightly. "we'll be there shortly." 

wilbur nodded, guiding the two younger, frozen teens by their shoulders back into the living room. 

phil stood there for a little longer, before pulling away. the quiet whine dream gave from the loss of contact made his heart shatter, but there were other things to be taken care of. "i need to clean up your hand, dream. the first aid kit's in the bathroom. you good to walk over there?" 

dream sniffed and nodded. phil smiled a pulled him there. he took care of his cut-up hand, wrapping it in bandages and securing it in order to stop any infection to the cut. 

afterward, they went to the living room, where three brothers were sitting in absolute silence. 

"boys," phil said, making his sons aware of his presence. 

wilbur looked up. "oh, hey dad. a-and dream, hey." 

dream nodded. "h-hey. hi." his voice was hoarse, but the message was still relayed. 

dream sat on the couch next to tubbo and wilbur. tommy was sat in one of the chairs, and phil said down in the other. 

"so, um, what..." phil trailed, "what happened, dream?" 

dream's breath hitched. he began to pick at his nails nervously. "i...you know how i- i live alone, basically?" he asked hesitantly. 

phil cringed. "yeah, i do. why?" 

dream gulped. "i, um, i didn't, today." 

phil raised an eyebrow at this. "i'm not following." 

he sighed, running his good hand through his hair. "my parents came home today," he breathed, "and they were not happy." 

"what happened, mate?" phil asked, looking on sadly. 

"they complained again." he said, staring at his hands. he couldn't make eye contact with phil, not when he looks so sad, so upset. "the- the thing in science, 'm sure tommy told you 'bout it. but- but they just kept going, y'know?" 

he sighed. "'you're a disappointment.'" he mocked. "'you've failed.' 'you're a liar.' 'you don't care about us.'" he bunched up his hand. "i just...i just wanted to tell them how i felt, right?" 

dream swallowed, gripping his knees with his hands. "next thing i know, i'm-" he shook his head. "i'm out of the house for the next three days and...and slapped in the face, i guess." he huffed. 

"i didn't- i'm sorry for coming here, i didn't want to intrude, but i needed to go somewhere, and-" 

dream stopped talking when a hand gripped his shoulder. he looked up into the teary eyes of phil. "they did this to you, mate?" 

dream gulped and nodded. "y-yeah. yeah, they did." 

phil shook his head before pulling him into a hug. "i'm sorry, dream." he whispered. "i'm so, so sorry." 

dream furrowed his brows. "i don't-" he shook his head. "i don't understand?" 

phil pulled away. "what? what don't you understand?" 

"i mean...it's- it's not even that bad?" dream said, wanting to backtrack immediately after seeing the horrified look on phil's face. "the slapping part's bad, obviously!" he defended. "and- and the kicking me out part kinda sucked, too. but- but the other stuff...it's a common occurance. it's normal." 

he looked up at phil, who looked a mix of 'i'm going to kill your parents,' 'you poor thing,' and 'you deserve so much more.' dream then looked at the other teens, who look horrified, like they couldn't imagine being talked to like that by anyone in their life, nevermind their own father. 

"that's...it's normal, right?" he asked. 

phil shook his head. "no. god, no, dream. that's- that's not normal, at all." he swallowed, wiping the stray tears on his eyes. "god, i want nothing more than to get you out of that damned house." 

"i think i can help," he said. 

phil furrowed his brows. "how?" 

"wilbur, tommy, and tubbo came by earlier. dunno if they told you, but they did." he said. "and we recorded something for school. but i- i didn't turn it off all the way. the whole- our whole fiasco was- was recorded." he said. "that can help, right?" 

phil smiled. "yes, dream, yes. that's- that's exactly what we need. holy shit, dream-" he turned to the boy, "we can get you out of there, now." 

"really?" he asked. "i don't- i don't have to live with them anymore?" 

he shook his head. "not for long, dream. this..." he trailed, "that will help, a lot. and i'll...i'll gladly take you in, dream." 

the teen smiled, new tears forming in his own eyes. he shot up, grabbing phil as tightly as he could and holding him close. "thank you. thank you." 

phil hugged him back as dream continued. "thank you..." he swallowed, "thanks, dad." 

phil wanted to cry. 

he tightened his grip on the his boy. "of course, son." he said. "of course." 

the older main looked up at his sons, who looked simultaneously confused, sad, and happy. rightfully so, because they heard both unspeakable things and wholesome moments. 

"c'mere, boys." phil said, encouraging them to join the hug in the middle of the living room. 

wilbur smiled, pulling tubbo and tommy up to make a group hug. 

"welcome home, dream."