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A single letter.
All it took was a single letter to break him.
Months of isolation, of desperate planning, of torture and pain and suffering, and Dream was broken by a letter.
The night Quackity forced his hand, Dream lay awake for hours. He was restless. His injuries hurt, but he was used to that. The bruises would fade, the cuts would scar over… but the scratch of the quill on parchment echoed in his ears.
A single letter, written by his own hand, had just doomed him.
“I guess you owe me now, Techno. A favor?”
“I guess I do.”
Dream didn’t sleep at all that night. His shin hurt where the bone had shattered under the handle of the axe. He kept having to shift slightly to adjust his weight on it, his shirt tied as a haphazard splint. He waited for Quackity to return, muttering the minutes under his breath.
He missed his clock.
“Come with me, Tommy, or I’ll burn your discs.”
“Well, that’s going to be a problem, Dream. ‘Cause this guy’s with me. Unless… you want to call in that favor?”
Quackity came the next day, smile stretching his scar into a grotesque phantom grin. He splashed healing on Dream’s leg, cackled as the bone and muscle knit back together. He spoke endlessly, taunting and teasing and punishing, and Dream couldn’t stop it.
He curled in the corner of the room, begged for the pain to stop, to go away. Please leave I did what you wanted, you said you would give me a break, you said, you said-
Quackity was a liar. Dream knew that, he was a liar as well. When you’d lied so often to others, you got pretty good at spotting a lie yourself.
Quackity left him in a pool of his own blood again. Dream pulled himself to his corner and tried to use the shreds of the clothes he had left as a pillow.
The scratching of a quill on paper hurt his ears. He wasn't writing. The sound haunted him like a ghost. He slept that night only because his body couldn’t stay awake a second longer.
“If you need a place to stay, I have a bed. You can take this bed, make a campfire. Maybe stay in the woods for a night or two?”
“I told you I have a house!”
“Sure you do, Dream.”
He woke.
He ate.
He waited.
He stared at the lectern in the corner, staring down at the blank page and trying to ignore the phantom quill that wrote on.
The page torn from the front of the book hurt almost as much as the axe did.
He prayed Techno would ignore him. He hoped, desperately, that the pig would stay away. He wished Techno wouldn’t care.
“I feel like I’m the only one on the whole server who hasn’t betrayed you, Techno.”
“That’s so true. Everyone’s always like ‘Don’t team with Dream, he's a bad guy’ and I’m just… Dream is so nice to me all the time. Everyone else asks me to fight in wars and then betrays me immediately…”
There was no god. Not for his prayers.
The lava fell, bubbling and loud. The netherite bars snapped into place. A familiar voice called over the lava, and Dream screamed.
It was too late, and then the pig was in the cell with him, and the lava was already falling again, and Quackity had won, and Dream couldn’t speak anymore.
“Oh you have books,” Techno said, digging through the chest in the corner, “That’s good.”
“Why did you come here? How can you be so casual about this? You’re acting like this is some sort of vacation!”
Techno turned to face him, a book in his hand. “You helped build this place didn’t you? Can you write down everything you know about it? All the inner workings and stuff? Just everything you have.”
Dream could only scoff. The pig was insane.
“It looks like you’ll have plenty of time to write it all down, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,” Techno settled the new book on the lectern and paid the torn page no mind as the old book was tossed aside.
Dream picked up the quill, hand shaking.
He began to write.
Techno spoke to himself, mumbled to the obsidian and laughed at his own jokes. Dream wrote. Techno offered his cloak as a blanket that night. Dream refused. Techno insisted.
Dream slept soundly for the first time in months.
A foot to his gut woke Dream. Quackity stared down at him, axe on his shoulder. Dream looked around for Techno, clutched the fur-lined cloak tight to his chest.
The pig was standing across the cell from them, against the wall. His eyes were steely, his ears were pressed back to his skull, his body was tense and perfectly still.
Dream understood that feeling. They were unarmed, unarmored, and Quackity was not.
A part of him had hoped Techno would fight.
“Morning, sleeping beauty!” Quackity cooed. Dream remained silent, curling around the cloak and trying to make himself small. Quackity frowned at that, using a foot to shove Dream into the wall farther. “That’s no way to greet an old friend, is it? We’re friendly here, aren’t we Dream?”
Dream trembled. He desperately tried to meet Techno’s eyes, but the pig’s gaze was glued to Quackity’s axe.
The axe shifted and slammed into the wall beside Dream’s head. He flinched.
“I said, that’s no way to greet an old friend, is it?” Quackity spat.
“I’m sorry,” Dream’s voice cracked as he choked the words out. “I’m sorry sir, please forgive me.”
“That’s better,” Quackity smiled. He stood, flinging the axe back to his shoulder.
Dream could see the hulking pink shape that was Techno shift uneasily on the edge of his vision. He couldn’t look up. He couldn’t let the pig see him.
“Well, I’m here to show our new friend the ropes,” Quackity’s voice was smirking. Dream clenched his eyes closed. “He needs to understand how we do things around here.”
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Quackity,” Techno spoke softly, but Dream could hear the nerves underlying his tone.
Why hadn’t he stayed away?
“I think it’s a wonderful idea, actually,” Quackity walked forward, the sounds of his steps echoing through the cell. “And you’re not going to fight back, are you Technoblade?”
“And what if I do?” Techno asked, “I beat you unarmed once already, this is no different than back then.”
“Oh it’s very different this time, Technoblade. You don’t have potions to cheat with this time. What are you going to do, beat full enchanted netherite with your bare hands?” the axe hit obsidian again, and Dream flinched despite himself. “No, Technoblade, I don’t think even you can do that.”
Dream did his best to block it out. He tried to ignore the sound of the axe and the fists and the grunts of pain. He buried his face into Techno’s cloak and tried to ignore the fact that he was next.
Quackity didn’t want anything anymore. He was only searching for pain, for power. He didn’t spend much time with Dream that day, Dream found himself almost thankful for the break.
When Quackity left, Dream crawled to Techno’s side.
“You’re so,” Dream had to clear blood from his throat, using a section of his shirt to start cleaning his rival’s wounds, “You’re so stupid you know that? You shouldn’t have come.”
Techno groaned, “I forgot what not having armor was like, how do people deal with this?”
They fell silent for a while, using spare scraps of fabric to bind cuts and helping set bones. They were both fighters, this was familiar.
Dream made sure the cloak stayed untouched.
“So,” Techno finally mumbled. His head was leaning heavy on the obsidian wall, his breathing was ragged and wet. He coughed red into his hand, but continued anyway. “This is what he’s been doing, then?”
Dream could only nod.
“Well that’s no good,” Techno laughed.
He laughed.
Dream stared at him.
“He lied to me on my birthday, I can’t believe that.”
Dream gawked.
Techno coughed more blood into his hand, staring at it blankly for several seconds while his shoulders shook with ragged laughter.
“Are you done writing that book yet, Dream?” Techno asked.
Dream shook his head.
“Well, we got time. I can wait.”
“Why are you laughing?” Dream surprised himself with the words. His voice was hoarse, he hadn’t had anything to drink, and the screaming had done a number on his vocal chords. “How can you laugh?”
“Because, Dream, you may be out of options,” Techno chuckled, grimaced, and spat red-stained saliva to the obsidian floor, “But I’m not. I still got people to talk to, I got plans to finish, I got pets to feed. I can’t be stuck in here forever, man. What will Steve do without me?”
Dream stared.
There was a time he had people, when he could have said those same words. He remembered Techno and Phil preparing for doomsday, watching their coordinated dance while they brewed potions and sorted their gear. He remembered doing the same during hunts in the past, when he and Sap and George had--
He remembered a figure in the cell, outlined by the harsh light of the lava.
“I’ll kill you. If you take a step out of this prison, I will end you myself. That’s a promise.”
He hadn’t seen blue in months.
A hollow feeling boiled in his chest, and Dream jumped when Techno’s hand found his shoulder.
“You should keep writing,” Techno said between laughter. “The more you can give me the better. And we can start hiding the book at the bottom of the chest when he comes by.”
A quill was pressed into his hands, and Dream stared down at the pages of the book.
He began to write.
-----
He finished the book a week later, every piece of information he could remember was in those pages: The layout of the prison, block by block. Calculations on the fatigue timings and reapplications in case of milk. The exact timings for each potion buff. The redstone circuitry that lined the obsidian halls. Everything he could think of.
It was hopeless, neither of them were getting out of here. But it was something to do, something to keep his mind busy.
Techno looked it all over, nodded, and tucked the book away in the chest.
Quackity came again and beat them both to bloody pulps. Quackity cleaned his axe with Techno’s cloak, turned to leave, and stopped when Techno spoke.
“How many days is that, chat?” Techno asked the cell’s ceiling, sprawled on the floor and clutching a series of gashes across his ribs. His arm was broken, twisted and wrong. “You say seven? Not bad, not bad.”
Quackity watched curiously. Dream slumped against his corner and tried to focus on being able to breathe. Techno stood, hauling himself to his feet like a lumbering giant. He strolled, as casually as was possible with so many wounds, to the chest. He kicked it open with one hoof, dug through it with his good hand.
“Stop right there, Techno, what are you doing?” Quackity snapped.
“Gettin’ a book to read, what’s it look like?” Techno pulled the book from the bottom of the chest and waved it at Quackity with a smirk. “I got a long trip ahead of me, after all.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Quackity brandished the axe, stepped forward menacingly. “Put the book down, Techno!”
“I don’t think I will,” Techno laughed, then glanced at Dream, “Sorry I can’t stick around, you know how it is. You can keep the cloak, though.”
Dream just stared.
“Technoblade, give me that book right now, or I’ll-” Quackity raised the axe, Techno didn’t back down.
“You’ll what? Kill me? I don’t think so,” Techno smiled. He fucking smiled at the man. “I’m not even here anymore.”
There was a moment of silence.
Techno’s lips quirked into a frown, Quackity started to speak, Dream stared blankly.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Quackity spat.
“Are you kidding me, there’s no way my count was that far off. I swear if this is scuffed I’ll-” and Techno vanished with a pop and a flurry of purple particles.
Quackity swung his axe through nothing, and Dream's laugh turned to wet coughs before it had even truly formed.
“What the fuck?” Quackity growled, “What the FUCK?”
He spun to face Dream, and Dream couldn’t even cower. His chest ached. He wanted to laugh, to cry, to scream, but the air was stolen from his lungs by the hilt of the axe.
He endured.
-----
It was days before it happened.
He felt the magic in the air, crackling and dark, before he heard it. He heard the low rumbling groan of the dark undead before he saw it. The obsidian roof cracked, shattered, and sunlight beamed through.
He was wrapped in fur, lifted by gentle hands, and rested onto broad shoulders.
“You came back,” Dream groaned as his busted ribs shifted. He was pulled to the roof, the fruity smell of a healing potion wafting in the air around him. The gashes in his side and back knit together, but his bones stayed broken. They didn’t waste time setting them. Dream didn’t care. “You came back for me.”
“Told you I had plans,” Techno chuckled. “Man lied to me on my birthday, what’s up with that. That’s not cool. You know how it is. Now hold on tight, there’s a lot of withers here right now and I’d rather not have to fight them with you on my back.”
Dream held tight to the pig’s shoulders. He buried his smile in his cellmate’s armor, reveling in the warmth of the sunlight on his back. He couldn’t help himself. He laughed.
Techno drew his trident, and they flew.