Chapter Text
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“Wil! Don’t stray too far with Friend. You might get lost and it might start snowing soon,”
“Okay Phil! Come on, Friend. Let’s play over there, shall we?!”
Phil and Ghostbur were out one morning to gather some wood for the night with the older of the two, smiling as he watched the ghost of his dead son playing with his pet before picking up his axe.
Techno had predicted that there would be a storm either tonight or the night after so the family was busy gather supplies to last them during that time with the oldest living son tasked to gather food and the youngest left at home to barricade and reinforce some part of the house. And Wilbur, being a ghost has some disadvantage (actually it was because he caused more trouble than actual help, they decided against giving him a task without the ghost actually realizing it) so he offered to help Philza by accompanying him.
“Friend, come on now! Let go over there,” he lead the blue sheep into a clearing as Phil turned to the closest tree and started chopping it down.
Friend blinked at their ghostly owner before proceeding to bend down eat the grass that was poking out of the snow. Wilbur giggled gleefully at the sight before taking out blue clay and started pinching it between his fingers.
Looking at blue always made Wilbur happy, not that anything made him sad or anything, it’s just something so calming with the color that put something inside of his not-so physical self at ease.
Sudden, the blue colored sheep perked up at a certain direction making the ghost curious at his pet’s reaction. “Friend? Friend, what’s wrong?” As he tried to float over to the sheep, he unintentionally lets go of the lead, making Friend bolted off to the direction without a second thought.
“Friend?! Come back, please! Let’s talk about this...!” Ghostbur panicked and chased his pet, but Friend was already a few seconds ahead of him. The dead former leader ran to catch up with the animal, and it didn’t take long for him to see the familiar blue.
“Sheesh, Friend. If I didn’t know any better, I would say you were leaving m...” The words died down in his throat when Wilbur saw Friend, sitting in front of a man holding a dandelion to the sheep and didn’t seem to notice him just yet. “Oh, hi there! I see you met Friend! Nice to meet you!”
The friendly ghost gave the newcomer a carefree smile as he approached.
“My name is Ghostbur! But sometimes my family calls me by my name when I was alive--as you can see I am a ghost, but that’s fine! I died a looong time ago, that’s why I can float! And oh, I forgot! My family calls me Wilbur too so don’t get confused—and you already met Friend!” He pats his sheep with a grin as he stared at the male in front of him.
The man looked at him—more like just faced him because Wilbur noticed a streak of white underneath the long blond bangs, and when the guy finally faced him did he notice that his eyes were covered by a bandana. The ghost froze at the sight of him before cautiously scanning the stranger's appearance. He wore a faded nearly-white green hoodie that was worn and tattered at some areas, with black pants that was equally torn and ripped that revealed scarred snowy white skin at the slashed areas. Though these were the most obvious features on the male, the longer Ghostbur stared at his face, he noticed what seems to be black transparent tear tracks that slip down the sickly pale skin of his cheek from beneath the cloth.
He became wary of the stranger, scared that he might be a threat to Friend, yet something in his instincts told him that the one in front of him posed no danger at all. Then finally, very slowly looking down at his hands before back at Wilbur, the blonde stranger tilting his head to the side like he was confused before speaking.
“...ghost.” he said, barely above whisper.
“Pardon?” Wilbur blinked, also looking at him up and down, unsure whether he called him by the first part of his name or something else...
That’s when he realized it. The unfamiliar man was just like him, barely translucent, in-humane features, was floating above the snow covered ground and gave off a cold aura that was unnatural for a human and that Ghostbur only thought could happen to him.
Ghostbur suddenly brighten up. “You’re a ghost too! I have a new ghost friend—another fellow ghost buddy!! YAY!!” He cheered, bringing the other ghost to a big hug, effectively scaring him but fear kept him from reacting or say anything against it.
“This is so GREAT! It feels lonely being the only ghost around here—I know that Jshaltt is also a ghost but he’s not here right now—Oh that’s right! Phil and the others need to meet you! They’ll be so happy to meet a new friend, I’m sure of it! Oh and before I forget—“ The ever-so energetic ghost pulled away from him, finally realizing that he forgot one crucial detail and flashed him another smile, bringing his face closer,
“What’s your name, new friend?”
He stared at him for a few moments making Ghostbur consider for awhile whether or not he heard him or not. And then when he slowly realized, Ghostbur took a step back. “Oh my gosh! Maybe you don't know! Maybe you’re just like me who lost their memories from when they were alive—that’s okay! I don’t remember much either and—and it’s okay! I’ll help you! Ghostbur and Friend with help out their new ghost friend! But I don’t think that—“
“Dream...”
“—and then we can—excuse me, what? What did you just..?” Wilbur cut himself off when he heard the other speak, blinking at him in shock. Maybe he misheard, because it sound awfully a lot like he said—
The blonde looked him, and though he had some doubts, Wilbur could swear that the other can see him through that bandana as "Dream" floated closer to him, and showed him his hands. The brunette looked down to see that he was now giving him the dandelion that he was offering his pet earlier before looking back up to him as the blond ghost repeated.
“Dream.... my... name... I think...” He could barely form the words as he handed the slowly wilting flower into the other’s hands.
“O-oh, okay. Okay... Dream. Nice to meet you.” Wilbur nodded slowly, taking the flower before turning to Friend with a hesitant smile. “Friend, let’s introduce him to Phil! Come now, let’s take Dream to him.” He urged his pet before turning to his new ghost friend and held out his hand.
“Come on, Dream! I’m gunna introduce you the rest of my family!” He smiled. Dream looks down at the outstretched hand presented to him, feeling a tingle of nostalgia in his chest before taking it. Ghostbur closed his hand around his, ignoring how calloused and cold it felt even for a ghost then tugging him forward.
“Let’s go, Dream!”
::
Phil didn’t know what the universe was even thinking when his son brought practically the god—the strongest and most powerful person on the entire server next to his son—the one who was supposed to be miles and an ocean away from where they were—but the ghost of the very same man that mercilessly slaughtered nations?!
He wasn’t even sure at first, the signature smiling mask and impenetrable shining dark armor was no where on the man’s being, but the closer they got, the height and build in addition to the green clothes and blonde hair made it harder and harder to be in denial.
He honestly wished that a tree fell on his head to give him this hallucination. But when Wilbur came up to him and practically forced the supposedly the ‘immortal’ person to give him a hand shake, he was hit with the apparent and painful reality when the cold, translucent hand shook his hand into believing the utterly undeniable fact that he gave of a vibe that was terrifyingly similar to Wilbur when he became a ghost—did Philza realize that the ghost of Dream was, in fact, as real as he was.
Phil wasn’t entirely listening to his son up to this point, so when he started becoming conscious, Wilbur was halfway on his explanation on how he met the fellow ghost. “So then, I thought that—“
“Wil—Wil, Wil! Wait a second, could you repeat everything you just said?” Philza internally smacked himself to get it together, wing fluttering behind his back. Wilbur payed no mind to the fact his dad barely listened to him, and wrapped an arm around Dream’s shoulders as he gestured to him.
“Actually! It was Friend that found Dream! I actually didn’t recognize him at first, but he told me it was him! Although he wasn’t sure...” Ghostbur turned to the former dictator and tilted his head to the side. “Are you sure, you’re Dream? You sure don’t act like Dream even though you look just like him... did you lose your memories too?”
Dream only stared at him, then at Phil, who chilled at his gaze even though he couldn’t see his eyes, before looking back down at the snowy ground then shaking his head. “Sorry... don’t know.... who I... am... Just... Dream and...” then there was an even longer pause. The silence gave the cold around them a chance to make itself more aware as it hugged around them like a phantom. “Hurt.”
“Hurt? You were hurt?” Both Philza and Wilbur repeated, though for very different reasons. Philza was concerned because that might be a hint for an explanation of what had happened to him and Ghostbur was worried for his new friend.
“Awe, what happened? Does it still hurt right now, Dream? Do you think me or Phil can help you? Or maybe you need some blue—here, have some! Blue makes me feel better when I feel hurt!” He took out a small ball of blue clay that matched the color of Friend and handed it to Dream, who just held it in his hands.
Dream didn’t know how to react, instead he bowed his head down like he was ashamed (ashamed of what...?) and started to murmur something under his breath.
Concerned Ghostbur went over to him and just as he was about to ask him what was wrong. Dream suddenly started to tremble and cowered away from him, his hand and hair covering the majority of his face as his voice came out like a broken record.
“I’m sorry... so sorry.. sorry.. I’m sorry, really sorry... I’m sorry—“ his voice strained like he was crying but no tears formed. He took one step back and another, almost as if he was getting ready to run away and almost did if it weren’t for Wilbur grabbing his arms, grounding him.
“Hey, hey hey!!! Don’t be sorry for that! It’s okay! Hey, really it’s okay! I don’t remember anything too! So don’t feel bad for forgetting, it’s okay!” Ghostbur frantically tried to calm him down, reassuring the blonde before wrapping his arms around him as another resort to comfort him.
Phil was conflicted. One, because he just knows he had to take him back to the house—but that also means he’s also going to let Tommy and Techno, the two having a big history with the man, see what he had become and honestly he wished he didn’t had to let them see the ghost of Dream. But he had to.
And two, is that very same person—once proud and stood tall without a fear of death—was now nothing but a spirit of a crumbling, vulnerable mess of his former self. The contrast was too great, even if he were to give the same standard he gave to Wilbur when he had first become a ghost, from a crazed terrorist to a carefree man who tried to spread joy to those around him. It still felt too weird and too much for him to fully comprehend.
The elder sighed at the inevitable. Before walking towards the Dream, placing a hand on his shoulder, causing the ghost to look up to him. “Hey, why don’t we go back to me and Ghostbur’s place. You can stay with us for awhile and you can be more... at ease there. Don’t worry. Me and Wil won’t hurt you.” Philza gave him a warm, fatherly smile that was intended to reassure the ghost like he were reassuring one of his sons.
But he couldn't guarantee that some other people won’t.
Wilbur looked excited while Dream simply stayed quiet as if he was thinking about it, making Phil feel awkward as he tried retracted his hand from the ghost, but the blond placed his palm on top of Phil’s that was on his shoulder as he used the other to reach up and remove the piece of clothing that covered the remainder of his face. The winged man’s free hand fell to his side.
Both Philza or Wilbur—or anyone in the entire server, besides Dream’s closest, had ever seen the face behind that infamous smiling mask that the God of Men had hidden from them—also one of the reasons why the ones who first found that very same man had doubted that he was the same Dream, for the fact that he was without his mask; his wide known trademark, and for his lower face to be exposed like that when no one had seen it, surely made them doubt that it was him.
But there was this one time, before the war. Dream had gather his army against against Wilbur and Tommy and the rest if L’Manburg. The man stood before them tall and proud, strong and alive with his axe at the ready, as he brought his mask down just enough to expose his eyes. His glowing green eyes filled with bloodlust. To everyone who saw them, gawked and stare at awe and fear as he gazed down at like they were mere ants beneath his feet. The sight enough to let everyone freeze up and shake in terror, and even wonder: ‘how could those be the eyes of a human? So cold and cruel.’
His eyes that had a dim glow of green, distant and stone cold like two jade marbles. The eyes of someone that was confident enough to challenge anything and anyone even if it was just him against the world, the green that was the color of calm was now tainted with an unforgiving shade. Those were the eyes of Dream, the unstoppable ruler of the Dream SMP.
But… how come all that Wilbur and Philza saw was the sad eyes that resembled a solider who was tired of war and conflict? Of someone in pain? The two gaped as Dream took down his bandana and his features relaxed into a sad, but sincere smile.
“That’s...” Phil couldn’t form the words. Those weren’t the eyes of a tyrant. That kind and gentle face can’t be the face of a murderer. THIS— He couldn’t be the same man that ruled the nations with an iron fist and unrelenting greed. He couldn’t be the same man who exiled his youngest son and manipulated Wilbur into blowing up the country he had work hard to build. That’s cannot be the same person who just—it wasn’t—it just can’t be—
“...Thank... you...” Dream managed to say, his expression softened with honest kindness as he gave hand on his shoulder a light squeeze.
Philza couldn’t feel his heart anymore. Luckily Wilbur stepped in and started shouting how excited he was to be able to hangout with his new ghost friend as the brunette dragged the blonde away from his father and started floating towards the direction of the house, all while rambling about what they could do once they got there, leaving Phil who was still shock to the core at the development.
“—ilza. Phil! Hey!!! Do you need a hand with all the wood, Phil?! Dream and I can lend a hand! Trust me!” Ghostbur called back to his dad, snapping the elder from his thoughts.
“O-oh, yeah. Sure.” Philza recomposed himself and caught up to them. “I—I’d appreciate it, Wilbur. A-and, Dream. For the help.” He stammered out as he handed a few logs to the undead boys. Dream surprisingly didn’t have such a hard time holding the logs after covering his eyes with the bandana once more, unlike Wilbur who was dropping them even though he was barely carrying half of what his fellow ghost was.
I think it’s best to get them home as soon as possible, so that I can explain it to Tommy and Techno and get to the bottom of whatever the hell happened to Dream. Philza thought to himself as he carried the rest of the wood, and started walking ahead of the two ghost and sheep, knowing fully well that they would follow closely behind him.
Let’s hope that nothing bad happens.