Work Text:
“Techno!”
The pinkette woke up with a shout on his lips, grasping at his chest with a scarred hand. Dream’s scream echoed through his brain, and he gazed down at the table he had fallen asleep on, a grimace crossing his face as he pinpointed what had caused the nightmare to infest his brain. He had spent longer than he anticipated writing documents for the Syndicate after he made sure Dream had fallen asleep, and the pinkette didn't even make it to their bed before he passed out.
He frowned once he felt his heart rate go back to normal, brushing away a spare strand of hair that was sticking to his forehead with sweat. God, he hates nightmares. Deciding that there wasn’t any way he was going to get more rest, he stood up, neatly stacking the papers he had been writing. He walked towards the chestーa gift from Niki from the second syndicate meetingーthat contained all of the documents the Syndicate neededー plus some extras, including, but not limited to, places Techno is commonly found for people to quickly find him if Quackity shows up anywhere.
“Techno!”
A scream interrupted Techno’s careful filing, but the papers were the least of his problems. The voice that screamed was full of agony, and it broke at the end of Techno’s name, wavering as if the owner of the voice was sobbing. The pinkette didn’t even think twice, dropping everything his hands were holding before rushing towards the stairsー which had to be installed after Dream couldn’t make it up the ladder on his own ーthat led to their room, fueled by a primal need to reach Dream and to rip apart whatever was causing him to scream.
When he entered the room, he was met with a sight that nearly broke his heart. Dream was sitting on their bed, the sheets twisted and pooled around his hips, his eyes unseeing as he sobbed openly, his hands moving aimlessly on the bed around him, seemingly searching for something, or someone. Tears glistened in the moonlight underneath Dream’s pale eyes, and Techno stumbled where he stood in the doorway, his beloved’s head snapping towards him. “Techno?”
The blond’s voice sounded so weak, laced in exhaustion, confusion, and anguish, and it shot a jolt of pain directly into Techno’s core. He quickly made his way toward the bed, resting a hand on one of Dream’s, which was still desperately searching for somethingー it’s been months and Dream still hasn’t gotten used to being blind (Techno wonders if he ever will). The blond immediately latched onto the appendage, running a hand up his arm until he reached Techno’s shoulder, brushing over the pink hair cascading down. “Dream, I’m here.”
The blond crumpled at his words, leaning forward until his forehead rested against Techno’s chest, right above the pinkette’s heart. Techno couldn’t find it in himself to be angry that he was going to have to change his now-wet shirt, instead bringing a hand to the back of Dream’s head, running through the dirty blond strands. Dream was mumbling Techno’s name under his breath, the hand not clutching Techno’s like a lifeline wrapped into the pinkette’s shirt.
The entire sceneーthe sobs, the shaking hands, the heaving of Dream’s chest as his lungs desperately attempt to take in oxygenーsuddenly made Techno want to cry.
He’s no stranger to Dream getting hurtーthe two have known each other for nearly a decade, and have been friends for roughly half of that, lovers for roughly two yearsーbut typically, Dream gets right back up, ready to fight again, or to climb another tree, or to keep attempting to bribe a wild fox in following him home. But this time, he’s gotten too hurt, and his wounds have never fully healed, even if it’s been months since Techno’s brought him home.
He still walks with a limp, his left femur broken more times than he could count; he can’t walk for too long before he gets tired, his entire body aching until it’s painful to even think about moving; and he can’t even look at potatoesー though, to be fair, he can’t look at anything, the bundle of scars centered on his eyes assuring that. He can’t be in locked rooms, he can’t touch shears without falling into a panic attack, and he won’t let any potion anywhere near his lips.
Techno realized with a start that there is water cascading down his cheeks, but he can’t find it in himself to wipe the tears away. Dream is still heaving for breath, and Techno guides the hand clutching his shirt to Techno’s heartbeat, placing it right under his beloved’s forehead. He whispers soothing words Phil said would help, attempting to coax Dream into breathing normally, and after some failed attempts, the blond stops heaving.
The least Techno could do was help the blond, who somehow doesn’t hate his guts, even though he has every right to. He and Dream had gotten into a fight, fueled entirely by stress and exhaustion, and Dream had stormed out of their house, Techno not even attempting to stop him. The pinkette hadn’t thought anything when the blond didn’t show up for months, blaming it on either Dream needing space or being dramaticーdepending on how angry Techno was that dayー, until the pinkette was informed that Dream wasn’t avoiding him, but rather being held against his will in a maximum security prison.
When he had first found out, he was angry. He was ready to walk up to the prison and kill anybody in his way, not stopping until he released his beloved from the room he was bound to. When he actually entered the cell, and found Dream chained to the wall, beaten and bloodied and skinnier than anybody should ever be, was he even breathing? ーhe had been livid. When his beloved became aware that someone else was in the cell, and had mumbled a fearful “Quackity? No, please, not again.” he was ready to burn down the entire server.
He had made sure Dream was safely in their arctic home, wrapped up in a blanket that hopefully didn’t scratch against the bandages covering every part of him, before he had tracked down both Quackity and Sam, the sorry excuse for a warden. He had made sure their deaths were slow and agonizing, grinning when the two had whimpered out pleas to stop. He had wanted to chase them down when they respawned too, despite not knowing where either of them ended up, before Phil had called him informing him that Dream was sent into a panic attack when the older blond had told him Techno wasn’t there.
Dream, as if sensing his spiraling thoughts, gently urged Techno to lay down on the bed, and who was he to refuse the light of his life? The dirty blond latched onto him as soon as he was laying down, his breathing still stuttering, but significantly better than earlier. He had tucked his face into the pinkette’s neck, his forehead resting against the pulse point under Techno’s jaw. “Heー he told me you died. He told me he killed you, and I kept telling him no, you couldn’t be dead, there was no way, but he kept insisting, and Iー” Dream choked on a sob, burrowing closer to Techno, who wrapped his arms around the blond’s back, “I didn’t have any way to prove he was lying, so I believed it.”
Techno didn’t have to guess who “he” was, Dream had problems even saying Quackity’s name any more. He had the sneaking suspicion that his beloved was describing a memory rather than a nightmare, a figment of his darkest imagination, and a jolt of pain was sent through him at the realization. If he could kill Quackity again, he would, but the idea of having to leave Dream alone in their house, even for a second, was too much to handle.
“And Iー when I woke up, and you weren’t here, I thoughtー I thought it had come true, I thought he had found you, somehow, and killed you, or worse, put you in the prison.” Dream was dangerously close to sobbing again, so Techno rubbed his thumb over the skin under his eye, attempting to ease the puffy skin as best he could.
“Don’t worry,” Techno wasn’t one for comforting words, or gestures, but he could try his best for the blond in his arms, “I’m not leavin’, no matter what. It’s gonna take a lot more than him to kill me.” Dream laughed slightly at that, and Techno felt something in him brighten.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”