Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Four gods stand in the middle of nowhere.

This is already an irregularity. For all four of them to be present at one given time is a miracle. A conversation with such weight may have caused them fear, if they had the foresight to feel such a thing. 

"So?" The smallest of them demands, staring expectantly at her peers. She is the smallest by a wide margin, and while she could grow larger, she quite enjoys being an oddity. "Can we do it?"

"I don't understand what prompted this." Her older brother says in place of answer, because he cannot admit that he doesn't know, bleached wings curling behind him. "He has already been gone for a long time."

"That's the problem!" The smallest declares, the beginnings of frustration sparking under her tongue. The other gods frown, because her anger never precedes anything good. "He's been gone for a long while, and now everything is boring."

"That's not true." A golden heart whispers, and his presence is the strangest. He has spent centuries grounded, after all. "There has been plenty happening. They can never stop things from happening."

"Things may be happening, but they aren't interesting! Not like they were!" The smallest groans, buzzing with energy as she turns to her brother. "He brought heart and soul that was never seen before and has never been seen since."

Her brother inclines his head, rings of energy spinning slowly with thought. "That is true, I suppose."

"And you know I am never one to play favourites." She adds with a cheeky smile, because she knows well enough that she is close to having her way. 

"You are never." Her brother repeats, placating if it wasn't for the fact that he had no understanding of how to be such. 

The golden heart turns to the goddess beside him, the only one who has yet to speak. "What do you say, Lady? Are you willing?"

"I would like to think you know me well enough to know I am certainly not greedy." The veil responds with a hint of mirth. "I am more than willing."

"Then it's done!" The smallest grins triumphantly, floating further upwards and spinning happily in the air.

"Of course, he cannot go without his twin-" The veil begins, but is swiftly interrupted by the celebrating youngest.

"Yes, yes, as long as it is done."

"That can't be fair." Her brother complains, and while his expression is forever unmoving, a frown is easily heard. "If she can send her favoured, surely I can do the same with mine."

"If you wish," the veil concedes with an amused smile, "I won't stop you. In fact, I have my own favourite, if we're all choosing to send them."

"Why not send a wave while we're at it?" The golden heart chuckles, slightly disbelieving. "If we're all playing favourites, we might as well add some variety too."

"I think that would be fun," The smallest says, delighted by this turn of events, "and then nobody can say it was unfair!"

(Unbeknownst to them, Time and Memory watch their siblings' successors as they talk, on the edges and infused with nothingness.

"They are making a wrong decision." Memory laments, tears in their words, because they always feel like they have seen this story before.

"Maybe," Time muses, in a tone that gives away everything and nothing at all, "but I will be the judge of that.")

Dream Esempii, the last of Adminblood, lost all three of his lives in the span of ten minutes.

It could have been avoidable, in hindsight. Dream had no obligation to return to his vault that third, final time. But he had heard Tommy threaten his own life, and a part of him couldn't bear the thought of Tommy losing his life to someone that wasn't him. He had taken two of Tommy's lives, and Tommy had taken two of his in turn. It was all part of the game. 

Of course, it didn't matter much now. He couldn't take Tommy's final life, not while incorporeal, and Dream had realised quickly that even the revive book had limits - it couldn't be used by the dead. 

Dream found that being a ghost wasn't much different to being alive. He hadn't lost any memory, not like Ghostbur, so the most differences came in terms of physicality. He could float, and pass through solids, and he couldn't leave this damn mountain. Whenever he tried, it would be like he hit an invisible wall.

He suspected this radius was tied to his physical mask, which lay in pieces on the floor of his vault. He couldn't pick it up himself to test, but someone would come to the mountain eventually, and they could pick it up for him. In fact, they could help revive him! Dream could wait for that.

Until then, he could wander this island. A waste of time, perhaps, but there wasn't much else for him to do, and it was better than staring at the desecrated remains of his vault. It wasn't in ruin, admittedly, but it was far from whole. The cavalry that had come to save Tommy and Tubbo had stolen their attachments back, and destroyed his shrines, digging up the gold that held them together. It caused him unnecessary frustration, pouring salt in a wound that was still tender from death.

Dream drifted upwards, through layers of stone to the peak of the mountain, and settled in the thin air to watch the sea. The waves were rough, crashing against the cliffside and spitting spray, but it looked oddly magical as it reflected specks of amber from the steadily setting sun. 

He thought, as he watched the sun sink lower and stain the sky red, that the most irritating thing about his final death was that Tommy wasn't responsible for it.

Death was something Dream had never wanted, but at the very least, dying by Tommy's hand would have felt appropriate. A final bow in their never ending dance, a familiar melody reaching its satisfying conclusion. 

But no. The dance ended with a stumble, an abrupt stop mid-bar, because Tommy hadn't been the one to kill him.  

It had been Tubbo.

Tubbo, who Tommy had handed the Axe of Peace to, catching Dream by surprise enough that he had forgotten to reveal what he had in his possession.

Tubbo, who had always been more of an obstacle than Dream had cared to admit. 

Tubbo, who should have been dead .

Dream would find the irony hysterical, if he wasn't the one at the receiving end.

Blood rose from his throat and bubbled over his lips, stirred once again by his building anger, and he caught himself with a growl. 

What was done was done. Tubbo had killed him, and in the circumstances he was in, there was no room for revenge. There was nothing he could do about it.

That thought, however, the insinuation that he had no control in this, only made blood flood his mouth faster, and he lifted his mask slightly to spit some onto the ground.  

The blood that landed was neon green, stark against the stone of the mountain top, and far too bright in the dim lighting of the early night. Somehow, Dream couldn't find it in himself to be surprised.

The years passed in a blur.

It was difficult to keep track of them when not much happened on a day-to-day basis. He had chosen this island for his vault because it was just out of reach, just far enough to discourage anyone from looking. Unfortunately, his choice was a little too perfect for those purposes. 

That wasn't to say he didn't get any visitors. Occasionally, adventurers of some sort would pass through, some discovering his vault and others hiking up the mountain. Dream would never admit how excited he was when the first of many arrived, especially since it ended up being fruitless.

As it turned out, he differed from Ghostbur in more than just memory. While Ghostbur could be seen by everyone, Dream was rendered invisible to the living. It didn't matter how much he shouted or waved, any attempt at communication was left unseen and unheard. After a while, he resigned himself to simply observing these adventurers make embarrassments of themselves, because he wasn't willing to make an embarrassment of himself any further, even if nobody could witness it.

He'd wait until a visitor showed signs of seeing him before he tried to interact.

Another thing that made timekeeping difficult was the fact that whenever he got bored enough to fall asleep, he'd end up in what could only be considered limbo. 

It was fascinating at first; the part of him that yearned to cheat death brightened with interest, even if he was already dead himself. He had found himself on a familiar beach, sand mixed with ash and coast riddled with holes. It was a fond sight, one that reminded him of some of the best weeks of his life - until he turned around to find a long settled crater and a looming pillar where a campsite should be. 

The plains that housed Logstedshire were nothing to him without their lonely inhabitant. 

It was a pick your poison situation. Both the mountain and the beach were unbearably boring most of the time, but at least the mountain held potential where the beach had none. At the mountain, adventurers may arrive, someone who could see him may arrive and finally end his stagnation. The beach was only good for nostalgia.

Which was why he still forced himself into slumber despite knowing the other side, allowing the frigid hands of limbo to hold him for a day or two before he shook them back off. When he really missed the game, he would go to sleep and walk around the remains of Logstedshire.

It was on one such occasion that he realised that, while he wasn't sure how much time had passed exactly, it was enough that Tommy was definitely dead. Even if he lived his life to its fullest, and ended up passing peacefully in his sleep at an old age, he would be long gone by now. 

It struck him bitterly, uncomfortably. Dream knew that the two of them were destined for more than that - their story had never been meant to end, after all. Granted, he didn't know how or when Tommy died, but if Dream hadn't been present for it, how fulfilling of a death could it have truly been?

When Dream returned from that visit in limbo, he immediately descended to his vault. Maybe hall was a better word for it now - anything that held any sort of value had long been stolen, and the only object that remained was his cracked mask, tethering him to the island. Even the Nether portal had been disassembled, the obsidian taken by some scrappy duo however long ago. 

Still, Dream could remember the day of his death with clarity even after all this time, so it was easy for him to fill in the gaps. He could imagine the Nether portal, the spoils of his endeavours hung up on the wall, the shrines in all their glory. For the millionth time since he died, he imagined the different ways that day could have ended.

Ideally, it would have ended with Tubbo dead and Tommy safely in Pandora's Vault, but whether that possibility came to pass had rested squarely on Punz's shoulders. If he had been a few minutes later, or refused the offer outright, the outcome would have been much different. 

Dream could have taken his chance and escaped. As much as he hated the idea, if Tommy had committed to his threat, he could have resurrected him at a later date and moved him to Pandora's Vault. It would have been easier, since nobody else would have known he was alive again.

Or, if Dream was doomed to die, he could have dragged Tommy with him. If he had pulled him towards him, the swing of the axe would have caught them both, and then their dance would never end. They would both be here, contained to this island, their ghosts destined to continue their story for all eternity.

Dream sighed, blinking to focus back on the crumbling remains of his lair. Yes, that would have been a better ending than this. Tommy always managed to be entertaining in every situation, and it would have been interesting to see how he dealt with dying at his best friend's hands.

He moved over to the hollow shells of the shrines, resting a hand against the blackstone edge. Dream couldn't feel it with his dead fingertips, but he still felt the need to handle the rubble delicately. This was significant even in its current state - the pedestal he had placed the discs on.

"I'll leave eventually." Dream murmured to himself, and if he wasn't dead, his voice may have been hoarse with lack of use. He was, though, so it came out as easily as always. "Someone will pick up my mask eventually. And that will be one step closer to living again." He paused, wonder and realisation bleeding into his tone as a smile curled onto his face. "Living forever ."

Someone new had arrived.

It was easy for Dream to tell, because visits were few and far in between, and any new sound was deafening compared to the usual ambience. There was crunching of dead grass beneath real footsteps, and someone mumbling to themself as they wandered around at the bottom of the mountain.

As always, he went to watch them immediately. There was always a chance, and even if there wasn't, who was he to pass up free entertainment? He got up from where he was lounging further up the mountain, and dropped through the stone with practised grace, slowing his descent as he reached the source of the commotion.

Dream poked his head out of the stone, making sure he could see the visitor, before stepping out into open air entirely. He turned his full attention back to the figure, looking them over more closely-

-and froze.

It had been a long time since he was last alive, and that paired with the tedium of being dead caused his memory to grow fuzzy. He hadn't forgotten anything by any means, but details had begun to bleed into one another. He could remember everyone he once knew, but couldn't quite place what they looked like, couldn't quite visualise the colour of their eyes or their face shape. The only exception to this was Tommy, whose appearance was seared into the back of his mind. How could he forget when he always watched it so closely, to see every tiny shift of his expressions, every slight reaction? No, he knew Tommy's face far better than he knew his own.

Which is how he knew, without any doubt, that the face a measly few metres away from him was Tommy's.

The problem here was that it made no sense. It couldn't possibly be Tommy, because he must be long dead. He was only human, and last Dream had seen him, he had one life left. There was no way he survived this long, not with one life. 

But the resemblance was uncanny - even if the details weren't exact, the overall image was too identical to be written off as a doppelganger. Yes, he didn't bear any scars, and in exchange, he had unfamiliar features that he carried with natural ease: a blond raccoon tail and matching ears atop his head, with a pair of feathery antennae between them and two tan moth wings folded comfortably against his back. Even they didn't discredit the possibility that this was Tommy though - moths and raccoons felt like animals that would resonate well with him.

Besides, if revival was within the realms of possibility, then who's to say reincarnation wasn't?

A flurry of emotions passed through Dream at the thought, but he barely cared to acknowledge them aside from noticing that they were positive and warm. A smile grew under his mask, and he drifted closer to who could only be Tommy in a detached sense of awe.

His key had finally returned to unlock his chains.

As if he could feel his eyes and hear his thoughts, Tommy turned to stare directly at Dream. Not through. At .

"Wha- Who the fuck are you?!" Tommy shouted and his voice was exactly the same as he remembered, loud and abrasive as he jolted in surprise, wings fluttering. "What are you doing here, watching me like that, you creepy bitch?"

A foreign hope that Dream hadn't needed before death and hadn't felt afterwards filled his chest, fuelled by the fact that someone could finally see him and that, against all odds, he was being reunited with Tommy. His responding laugh was endeared, wheezy at the end, as his mind ran a mile a minute. "I should be asking you the same thing! I'm stuck here, and have been for ages."

Tommy's face scrunched up like it always did when he was confused, and he looked Dream up and down, gaze lingering on the way his feet didn't touch the ground. Realisation replaced confusion, as he looked up with thinly veiled excitement. "No way, are you a ghost or something?"

Dream's smile grew into a grin, because his open expression reminded him of the Tommy at the beginning of all this, who looked at him like a brother, who had played along to their new song and dance without fight. Gods, he had missed this. "Yes, I am. Now can I get a name?"

His tone was teasing and Tommy clearly picked up on it, narrowing his eyes as a cheeky smile dawned on his features. "Tommy Simons, Biggest Man Alive, at your service!" He thumped a fist against his chest, tail flicking to the side and wings flaring outwards as he confirmed what Dream already knew, before he looked at him expectantly. "And you? Bet it's something stupid and old like Cornelius ."

Dream scoffed, floating ever closer as he folded his arms over his chest. His racing thoughts finally slowed to a more languid pace, a plan nestled firmly in the forefront of his mind.

"Actually, my name is Dream," he said, voice lowering with seriousness, "and I think I could use your help."

Chapter Text

In Tommy’s defense, he thought it would be funny. 

The Shattered Mountain was said to hold some sort of ruin, which was always fun to dig around in, but more importantly, everyone who had been there mentioned an uncomfortable atmosphere. A feeling of being watched that drove them away from returning, regardless of whatever resources the mountain may hold. 

Naturally, this meant Tommy wanted to pay The Shattered Mountain a visit so he could see how much of a pussy everyone was being. Technically, that may be illegal, but he didn't think the mountain was claimed by any one nation and even if it was, that would only spur him on. A little chaos was always good for the soul, and it wasn't like trespassing hurt anyone.

So he made the cheapest, shittiest rowboat known to man and set off, with a map and a dream. 

His first try didn't work; he had to turn back when a thunderstorm began to roll in. He would have pushed forward regardless, but rain and delicate wings were a bitch to deal with, so he decided to cut his losses. His second try, on the other hand, went much smoother under a gentle cloudless sky - until he realised he was lost and had forgotten the map. Luckily, the third try's the charm, and both weather and navigation had been in his favour. By mid-afternoon, Tommy had arrived on the rocky shore of the mountain, and he wasted no time in climbing up to the grassy land. 

Tommy wasn’t sure what, exactly, he was expecting, but his first impression was that the mountain somehow managed to disappoint. It looked like any other old mountain, and he didn’t feel any freaky eyes on him. He couldn’t even see any sort of ruin! Bullshit, that’s what it was - everyone was a massive pussy and a liar. 

He quickly changed his mind when he turned around on a whim, only to come face to face with someone who definitely wasn’t there twenty seconds ago.

The man had a dark green cloak and a white, porcelain mask emblazoned with a smiley face. It was chipped and cracked, but whole, easily hiding any other notable features he might have. Once Tommy managed to calm down a little, he noticed the man was also floating, which was enough to diminish a majority of his fear. Tommy was very familiar with the idea of ghosts, even if he had never seen one personally before.

Maybe it was weird of him to be less scared of a ghost than whatever alternative was possible, but hey, at least the ghost couldn’t physically harm him. Besides, he - Dream - seemed friendly enough, and Tommy was still a little starstruck over the fact that he could see him in the first place. Again, while Big Man Tommy Simons had a myriad of talents, talking to ghosts usually wasn’t one of them.

Especially not ghosts who, apparently, needed help.

“Help? What kind of help could you possibly need?” Tommy asked, sure that his confusion was written plainly over his face. “You’re dead, can’t be much you need to do anymore. No offense.”

Dream shook his head with a huff of amusement. “None taken. But there’s plenty I need to do, especially with the...unfortunate timing of my death. Why else would I still be here, in the realm of the living, and not in the afterlife?”

“I guess.” Tommy mumbled, mostly to himself. It made sense. He looked up, intrigued by the implications of Dream’s words. “How’d you die, then?”

The pause that followed effectively told Tommy that probably wasn’t the best question, and he even felt slightly bad about it when Dream tilted his head slowly to the side, as if grimacing. “Look, I’ve been stuck on this stupid mountain for Prime knows how long. I just want to leave, and you can help me with that.”

Tommy wasn’t sure if he was grateful or put off by the purposeful evasion of his question, especially when paired with the sudden cold edge to Dream’s tone, but he decided not to pay it any mind. He turned his head to consider the mountain and the surrounding sea, frowning as he tapped his chin. “What, you can’t fly over the sea or something?”

“No. It’s like there’s an invisible wall there, I always get bounced back.” Then, to demonstrate, Dream flew out over the sea. Just like he said, once he reached the point where the coast melted into the sea, he seemed to run into something solid. He went as far as to tap on the transparent surface, just to prove his point, before returning to Tommy. “See?”

“I mean, yeah, but I don’t see what you expect me to do about it.” Tommy snorted, folding his arms over his chest. “I can’t do magic, even if that would be pretty poggers.”

“I know you can’t get rid of it.” Dream scoffed, drifting closer to the mountain and gesturing for Tommy to follow him. Not really having anything better to do here, Tommy did. “I don’t need you to get rid of it, either. Just- follow me.”

He led Tommy to the stone face of the mountain, and just as Tommy was about to ask how special this section of rock could possibly be, Dream phased through.

This was behaviour that made sense for a ghost, but created an issue that Tommy didn’t hesitate to inform Dream of, raising his voice to make sure it could be heard through any layer of stone. “Problem, dickhead! Some of us aren’t fucking intangible!”

“Dig through, idiot!” Dream called back, and Tommy begrudgingly decided that was a good solution. He pulled his iron pickaxe out of his inventory and dug through the stone with relative ease, letting the sunlight stream in from behind him, revealing a cavern. The edges were lined with torches long since burnt out, and Dream was hovering above some sort of blackstone hole. He eyed Tommy, his gaze a little too judgemental for Tommy’s tastes. “You only have iron?”

“Yeah, ‘cause it gets the job done and it’s fucking cheap. What would I need diamond for?” Tommy replied like it was obvious, because it was. He doesn’t know when Dream died, but it either must have been ages ago, or he must have been a high class motherfucker, because everyone Tommy knew couldn’t afford stuff like that for casual tasks. “Here, I have a better question! Why was this place sealed off with stone? Is there some sort of secret around here?” Admittedly, the prospect of being let in on an ancient secret sent a spark of excitement down Tommy’s spine, so he was understandably disappointed when Dream merely shrugged.

“There used to be, but not anymore. There've been a few people down here over the years, ones who managed to find it without me. Some of them left the entrance uncovered, and others filled it in with stone when they left.” Dream floated backwards slightly, drawing Tommy’s attention to the blackstone amongst the overgrown grass with a sweep of his arm. “But there is something important down there that everyone has missed so… get on.”

The command was stern, and for some reason, Tommy felt a wave of dread wash over him. It was completely unprompted, and easy for him to brush off, but it unsettled Tommy enough to cause a nervous chuckle. “Woah, hang on a second, I don’t know what that is! It could kill me for all I know!” He was starting to consider the possibility that he may have trusted the ghost a little too quickly, at least to the point of blindly following him into a hole in the mountain.

Dream was undeterred, lowering himself to stand on the floor, or at least appear to be standing. "It's not going to kill you." He said, vaguely exasperated, words dragging like he had heard it all before. "Even if I wanted to kill you, which I don't, I wouldn't risk it with my opportunity to leave on the line. It's just an elevator."

"Yeah, I'd kick your ass if you even tried, bitch!" Tommy embraced his usual bravado, managing a grin as he shuffled forwards to take a closer look at the structure in question. It didn't look like much of an elevator, in his opinion, but an elevator felt more likely than a death trap, so he decided to believe him. He still had lives to spare if his judgement was wrong. "So is there a button or something I need to press?"

"Yeah, over here." Dream moved over to the opposite wall, where Tommy could see a stone button blending into the wall if he squinted. The ghost moved his hand, as if to brush the dust off the button, making a sound of irritation in the back of his throat when it passed through on account of his intangibility. 

Tommy walked around the blackstone, coming up to the button himself and brushing the dust off for him. He tried not to push it, because he had some more questions about the safety of the elevator, but the temptation was a bit too much for Tommy to handle and it was so easy to add too much pressure, y'know?

Basically, Tommy pushed the button.

He yelped as the elevator started to make some unholy groaning, not having time to think as he scrambled to get on the platform as it slowly began to descend. His panic was unnecessary, because it really wasn't that fast, but he didn't realise that until the deep rumble of an old mechanism desperately trying to work was already beneath his feet.

Tommy turned to glare at Dream with something that definitely wasn't a pout, finding his laughter wholly unnecessary. Dream came to hover beside him on the platform, speaking up before he could snark at him, mirth in his voice. "Of course you just pressed the button without thinking. Of course. That's so- so like you."

"Ey, fuck off, you don't know me!" Tommy complained loudly as the platform lowered into the ground, scowling as he crossed his arms. It was intended to be lighthearted, but he wasn't sure he liked the weird hum he got from Dream in response. "What? You don't-!"

He was cut off by a sudden screeching as the platform came to a shuddering halt, despite very obviously not being at its destination. The creak of pistons frantically trying to move was paired with the uncertain jittering of the platform, and Tommy was suddenly intimately aware of how tight of a space this was. They had lowered enough that the sunlight was an unreachable square above his head, casting a spotlight as he fluttered his wings for a brief moment to check the space wasn't as tight as it felt.

"Don't worry, it does that. Stuff as old as this needs time to warm up again." Dream reassured, clearly unbothered by this development, before promptly disappearing through the floor. 

"Come back here, you prick!" Tommy shouted after him, finding it awfully rude of Dream to abandon him as soon as shit hit the fan. 

"Oh, you're almost there, you big baby. Calm down."

The elevator seemed to sort itself out, because while it started to move again, it was slow but smooth. A line of open space emerged, letting dim lighting spill across Tommy's feet, but he could hardly care about that when his entire character had been insulted. "Wha- how fucking dare you! I'm not a baby, I'm a man, a huge man, and I do not need to calm down. You're the one who threw me into this weird situation in the first place!"

Tommy had more to say about that, but the words were swallowed back down in favour of wordless exclamation, when the line of open space exanded into a huge fuck-you blackstone hall before his very eyes. Lamps were embedded into the walls and floor, dim and flickering but enough to illuminate the area. The thing that really caught his attention, though, was the image of two large discs, on either side of the opposite wall, above two holes lined with blackstone stairs. Tommy was struck with a strange sense of deja-vu at the sight, and he turned his attention back to Dream in an attempt to distract from it.

"Is this place yours?" He asked, giving up on the elevator entirely when it began to sputter again, stepping off the edge and gliding down to the floor. 

Dream, who had been hovering in mid-air halfway down the height of the hall, followed his example and floated down to meet him with a sigh. “It is, but it used to look a lot nicer.”

Tommy let out a long hum, placing his hands on his hip as he scrutinised the area, his eyes constantly getting drawn back to the disc imagery despite his best efforts. Finally, he yielded to his wandering gaze. “So, you like discs, Dream?” 

There was a brief pause as Dream turned his head to stare at the posters, before he responded in a singsong tone. “In a way. Do you?” 

He turned his entire body to face Tommy, which felt like a little too much direct attention for the question, but Tommy guessed the guy was just trying to act nonchalantly to cover his intense love for music discs. There wasn’t really any other explanation for the giant posters. Tommy figured he could indulge in his own appreciation of discs, if only to make Dream feel better, so he straightened up with a grin. “Well, I’m a bit of a collector myself. Got quite a few over the years, and I’ve even got a vintage jukebox to play ‘em on!”

Okay, so maybe he was a little proud of his disc collection and wanted to brag a bit, sue him. It wasn’t often he met somehow who seemed to match, if not exceed, his love for music and discs in particular. Unfortunately, Dream didn’t look very impressed - he totally was, he just wasn’t showing it - as his response was a very curt, “that’s cool.”

Dream finally landed a few metres away from Tommy, attention squarely on a bunch of porcelain on the floor. Moving closer, Tommy realised the bunch of porcelain was actually a mask, split into three pieces. A slightly familiar mask.

He abruptly remembered that he was brought down here for a reason.

“Hey, this looks like your creepy smiley face.” Tommy knelt down, rearranging the pieces to make it look whole again. 

“‘Cause it is mine.” Dream snorted humorlessly, and glancing up at the ghost, Tommy realised the breaks in the porcelain were reflected in the cracks of the mask he was wearing. Dream sobered up quickly, his voice stern as he continued. “I think that mask is what is tethering me to this mountain. It was a pretty iconic thing of mine when I was alive, so it would make sense. I think the range of where I can be moves with it, but obviously I can’t check myself.” He leaned down and tried to grab the largest piece, only for his fingers to uselessly sink through. 

“Right.” Tommy dragged the word out as Dream straightened up to stare at him impatiently. “So, do you want me to just...bring this shit with me?”

“Well, I don’t know if it’ll work, so first we need to test it on the coast.” He mused, tilting his head to one side. “But if it does, then yeah, pretty much.”

“You’ll be stuck with me though, if I have your mask. Or at least in the general vicinity of me.” Tommy pointed out with a half grin, leaning back to rest his weight on his heels. “Most people find me annoying at first, you know.” It wasn’t like he didn’t want to help Dream out, but he felt like the ghost needed to know what he was getting into by asking Tommy to do this, even if he did feel they were getting along alright.

“It’ll be fine.” Dream waved a dismissive hand before leaning forward, voice softening into something gentle and sweet, tempting. “Come on, don’t you want to be my hero, Tommy?”

Tommy was not one to give into some saccharine words, and he didn't really want to be a hero even if he liked to imagine himself as a hero from the storybooks, but it wasn't that hard to carry around some porcelain, was it? If Dream wanted to come with him, then who was he to deny him of his amazing presence?

"Yeah, yeah, okay." He lifted the largest piece, which made up a good three quarters of the original mask, to get a close before adding flatly: "I'm not wearing this, though. It looks stupid."

"It's not stupid,"  Dream muttered, as if vaguely offended, before huffing a laugh as he added, "but I don't think you could wear it even if you wanted to. The strap is damaged."

"Well, do I have to bring the whole mask with me for this to work?" Tommy asked with a hint of a whine, consciously being as difficult as possible as he put the porcelain piece back down. "I don't like the look of it. Feels cursed."

"I'm dead, and my existence is tied to it. It is cursed." Dream shot back, tilting his head to survey the broken mask as he let out a hum of consideration. "But if it bothers you that much, just take one piece. If that doesn't work, we can come back and grab the rest, and try again."

An air of impatience was starting to build between them, and Tommy had already agreed to help, so he shrugged and picked out the medium porcelain piece. It was slightly larger than his palm, and had the black edge of the smile cutting across it. He pursed his lips together, his skin prickling against the sharp edges. "If I get cut by this thing, I'm blaming you."

"Be careful with it and you won't have any problem." He could hear the smile in Dream's voice as he immediately took off for the elevator again, which had successfully arrived at the bottom of the hall. "Come on, then! I've been on this mountain for ages, I'm more than ready to leave."

"Coming, coming, calm the fuck down." Tommy got to his feet, rubbing an idle thumb over the smooth surface of the porcelain. He trudged after Dream, getting on the platform and leaning to the side to press the button embedded in the wall, after a bit of fumbling and squinting. The platform rumbled into motion, smoother the second time around, and Tommy momentarily considered how batshit his entire afternoon was going as he watched Dream subtly vibrate in place, presumably from excitement.

He couldn't find it in himself to hate it, though. It got him a bit of excitement, and it meant his boat trip didn't go to waste on a deserted mountain, which was evidently what the rest of this place was.

They reached the base of the mountain without any trouble, and Tommy didn't bother blocking up the secret room again, in case they needed to come back. He led Dream down to the rocky coast he had arrived on, carefully hopping from rock to rock the further out they got, before summoning his inventory with a wave of his hand and pulling out his cheap, shitty rowboat. He let it fall into the water and clambered in, slightly awkwardly from his position on top of a rock. He kept his inventory out for a moment longer, glancing down at the porcelain shard as he considered putting it in his inventory. It would be a lot easier, and avoid any accidental cutting, but-

"Do you think putting this in my inventory will mess up your tether or whatever?" Tommy asked as he turned to stare at Dream, who was hovering by the rocks.

He made a sound at the back of his throat, which gave Tommy the impression that he didn't know. "I wouldn't try it." Dream slowly replied, which only made Tommy more tempted to put the porcelain in his inventory to see what happened. Dream must have noticed that, because he quickly corrected himself. "Don't try it. Let's see if you can get me off this island first."

Tommy groaned in disappointment but dismissed his inventory, and after a moment of thought, he gingerly stuffed the shard in his pocket, making sure it wouldn't stab him through the fabric. He shifted, tail curling comfortably around his hips as he grabbed the oars. "Okay, Prime, I'm going. Try your best to keep up with me, yeah?" His words were pitched with mockery, and he flashed Dream a grin over his shoulder before he had to turn his attention to the waves.

Tommy quickly realised a problem with having to steer the boat past the last few patches of rock, because the focus needed meant he couldn't see if Dream was behind him. It didn't help that Dream had gone deathly silent since he had started rowing, giving him no hints as to whether this whole carry-a-cursed-shard thing was working. The anticipation built in his chest as he finally passed the final rocks and entered the open sea, the waves calm enough that he could let go of the oars and let the sea carry him for a few moments. 

He did, but before he could turn to check if Dream was still there or not, he was alerted of the result of their experiment by the man himself.

"YES!" Dream shouted, loud enough to startle even Tommy, and he whipped around to see the ghost descend into near hysterical laughter. Dream flew over to linger beside him, still giggling a little as he enjoyed his newfound freedom. Tommy wouldn't admit how much the sound unnerved him, because he would also probably be that alarmingly happy if he had been stuck in one place for who knows how long.

Instead, he smiled lazily as he picked up the oars again. "You doing good, big man?"

"Yeah, why would I be? I'm finally off that stupid mountain!" Dream stopped as he seemed to realise something, before calming as the adrenaline lessened. His voice still carried a smile as he came to hover in front of Tommy, even as softened as it was. "We- We did it! Together!"

Dream's joy was infectious, and Tommy was a flame of passion waiting for fuel at all times, so of course, that fire sent warmth burning through Tommy's chest. Pride over something so simple lit up his face, and he let out a whoop and released an oar to punch a fist in the air. "We did it! First fuckin' try, too!" Then, just to be annoying, he flicked his tail and gave Dream a playful glare. "But I did all the heavy lifting, so who really did it, huh? I'm the best, you can thank me later."

"Yeah, under my instruction." Dream folded his arms over his chest, exuding smugness and giddiness and Tommy could feel his eyes roll under that mask. It felt fond. "We work well as a team, don't you think?"

"I only did it 'cause you asked and I was bored." Tommy snorted as Dream moved to settle behind him in the boat, which was a bit odd, because he was fairly certain the ghost wasn't corporeal enough to actually do so. "And like I said, you're the one who's stuck with me now."

"I don't think you're that bad." Dream said earnestly, the smile disappearing from his voice entirely. "Why, do people really always call you annoying?"

"At first. They just can't handle me because I'm simply too good." Tommy corrected, all matter-of-fact, because it was true. Most people were put off by his abrasive nature and loud voice on initial meeting, and most were endeared to him after continuous interaction, at least from personal experience. He had never been very ashamed of that.

Dream didn't agree with him, but he didn't disagree either. In fact, he didn't react at all, instead quietly continuing his insistence after a brief pause. "...We do work well as a team, though."

Tommy wasn't sure why he was pushing this point so firmly, and he didn't know how much teamwork had been required, but he liked Dream well enough, so he scoffed playfully. "Okay, Dream, okay. Whatever you say."

They lapsed into a relative silence, overtaken by the gentle rolling of the sea against their boat, and Tommy paused to pull a map from his inventory. He laid it out over his lap so he could reference it, not because they were lost, but just in case. Even if they were lost, a map wouldn't help in the middle of the sea, considering the lack of surrounding landmarks.

Tommy began to hum to himself soon enough, filling the dull sounds of the sea with his own melodies similar to how he had filled his time on the way to The Shattered Mountain. It was nice, about as nice as any solo boat ride could be. Of course, he wasn't alone, but Dream seemed content to sit back and listen to his humming without contribution, so it felt the same.

"Do you want to help me with something else?"

Tommy stopped singing, turning to acknowledge Dream's question to cover up the way he had jumped. He had been rowing for a good while now, at least halfway back home, so he hadn't been expecting conversation anymore. Dream hadn't been very receptive of his off-hand comments since they had left shore. 

"Depends. What is it?" Tommy mused casually, flicking one ear in interest as if he didn't already know his answer. If it was as easy as picking up some porcelain shards was, then he wouldn't mind going on a little adventure. It was something to do, and hanging out with a ghost was kind of fun by principle.

Dream sighed, reaching up a hand to adjust his mask. "There's a book I want to find. It's very important to me, and it's the one of the only things I wanted back after my death."

Tommy made an exaggerated sound of thought, furrowing his eyebrows. "You want to find a book? That's it?"

"Well," Dream dragged the syllables out, leaning back into thin air as he glanced out into the depths, a cheeky smile carrying his words, "maybe I just want to hang out some more too. Being stuck in the same vicinity is one thing, but having a joint objective is another."

"Ah, I see. So you're a clingy bitch." He teased, biting down a smile of his own as Dream responded with a disbelieving bark of laughter.

"Oh, come on now, I'm literally tied to a piece of porcelain you're carrying. I don't have much of a choice!"

"So you're using me now, huh?" Tommy retorted, resting an elbow against the side of the boat as he narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion, even if his smile was beginning to show. "Using me for my legs and ability to move freely. Fuck you!"

Dream didn't respond with another joke like he had expected. Instead, he let out a small, stilted chuckle and shook his head. "So are you in or not? Helping me find this book?"

"Sure, why the fuck not. Since you need my help that badly." Tommy's casual statement was immediately juxtaposed by the way he flinched as the sea sprayed higher than usual, crashing against the sides of the boat. He straightened up, tucking his wings closer to his body as he grabbed the oars once more, clearing his throat and pointedly ignoring the soft snicker behind him. "Why do you need this book anyway? What's so special about it?"

"I told you, it's important to me." Dream murmured, before huffing out another laugh. "You'll see what I mean. It's one-of-a-kind."

Tommy thought that was one of the most uninformative answers he had ever heard, but it was about as much as he expected. The guy wore a mask, for fuck's sake, a somewhat cryptic nature was to be expected. He considered, for a brief moment, pushing for more information, but Tommy wasn't that much of a dick. He could badger him later, when they were a little closer to being considered friends. For all he knew, this book could be Dream's personal secret diary, regaling his deepest, darkest secrets - he snorted at the thought. Nobody would admit that to someone they just met.

Instead, he decided to steer the conversation into something lighthearted that he knew extremely well: annoying small talk.

"So what's the worst word you know?"

Dream may have collected himself outwardly, but he couldn’t suppress the utter bliss that bubbled in his chest with this newfound freedom. Once they reached the shore of the mainland, he drifted up to view the area, a part of him eager to see how his server had changed in his absence and the rest wanting to see if he recognised where they were. He quickly identified it as the coastline that trimmed the main Esempii, the closest sea from the Community House and its surrounding area. He couldn’t see the buildings from here, except a few tall shapes in the distance, but it didn’t look like it had changed much over the past however many years. It was a sentiment that pleased Dream, to some extent. 

The gentle thump of wood drew his attention back to Tommy, and he turned in time to see the boat disappear into his inventory in a swirl of white. The boy stretched his arms and wings, working the stiffness from his limbs after rowing for so long, before turning to Dream with a lazy smile. “Let’s go to my place, yeah? It’s been a long day, and I’m fuckin’ tired. We can start looking for your little book tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Dream shrugged, and he really didn’t mind. With the way things were going, he’d have the revive book in no time, as well as a person to perform the ritual for him! It didn’t even particularly matter that he had to find the book again, memory of the details of the ritual long muddied in his mind, because Tommy was easily going along with his illusions of adventure. 

Tommy nodded firmly, before promptly spreading his wings and coming to meet Dream in the sky, which startled him enough that he had to catch up with Tommy as he immediately set off further inland. 

“You’re allowed to fly?” He asked, gaze fixated on the flap of Tommy’s wings and the way his tail seemed to lay as low as possible, to keep out of the way. He had seen Tommy use his wings in his vault, watched him glide down with a detached sense of interest, but he assumed that was out of necessity. Even when Dream was at the height of his power, he could never stop winged hybrids from cushioning falls by gliding, even if he could bar them from proper flight.

That evidently wasn’t the case anymore, as Tommy sent him a puzzled glance, brows pinched with a slight frown. “Yeah, I’ve got wings, dumbass. What else am I gonna do with them, keep them as decoration?” 

“Right, but aren't there any legal restrictions?” Dream pressed, and it wasn’t a particularly major detail in the grand scheme of things, but he found himself desperate to know how much his rules had been altered. 

“No, why would there be?” Tommy huffed a quiet laugh, almost nervously. “What, were there rules against flying in your time?”

Dream frowned to himself, a vicious feeling straining against his ribcage. Letting winged hybrids fly freely was such a stupid decision, encouraging rebellion with an easy escape method, that it only acted as proof that the server needed him. He didn’t respond, because he had a feeling Tommy wouldn’t react well to his opinion and he wasn’t going to jeopardize this golden opportunity so soon, instead letting the conversation peter off awkwardly.

Tommy didn’t seem particularly comfortable with this choice, judging by his pout, but he didn’t slow his flight, instead continuing steadily home. Dream took the opportunity to trail behind him slightly and take in the world from above, even if they were only just above the trees. As they approached the more populated area of the land, he noticed a few new additions and a few lost buildings, but was happy to note that it seemed largely the same. They flew higher as the land climbed, and Dream fondly set his gaze on a familiar bench in the distance, still standing diligently as a monument of times past. 

“Nearly there!” Tommy said, eyes lighting up, and for a brief moment, Dream was sure he was talking about his scruffy little hobbit hole. He was pretty sure the structure was still standing; if he squinted, he could see the oak doors embedded into the side of the hill. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. They bypassed the hill completely, and Tommy came down for landing a few metres past it, in front of a red and white building that Dream recognised as a food place, but not for much else. He drifted after Tommy, coming to hover in what looked like a standing position beside him, and realised what was so strange about the area.

It was entirely silent.

Apart from them, it was like nobody else was around. He turned to look down the Prime Path, in the direction of the Community House. The last time he was here, the area was never quiet, let alone silent. There was always someone passing by, or talking with their friends, or coming to the shops further down. At any point of the day, there would be at least one other person on this stretch of path, if not more. 

More worrying, perhaps, was something he had been too high up to notice when in the sky. The area was almost completely overgrown with grass and weeds, vines crawling across the walls of the buildings. 

“Why is it so empty?” He asked, turning to observe Tommy, who seemed unbothered as he fiddled with a wooden gate on an offshoot of the Prime Path, trying to get it open. 

Tommy glanced up from what he was doing, cracking a smile as he snorted. “Because this is Old Esempii, innit? No point for anyone else to be around here.”

Dream stiffened, though he supposed it made sense. No wonder so little had changed after so much time - this area was abandoned. It sent something bitter through his veins, almost offended by this fact, and he was sure it bled into his tone. “Old Esempii? Why did they abandon this place? It looks fine to me!”

Tommy blinked owlishly for a moment, before realisation settled like a curtain over his features. “Oh shit, how old are you?!” When he didn’t get an immediate response, he sucked a breath in through his teeth as he grimaced. “Yeah, I think that people just naturally migrated? Not sure, it happened so fucking long ago. These are just ruins now, not many people come through here.”

“So nobody lives here anymore?” The words dragged slowly out of Dream’s throat, finally going to meet Tommy at the gate as he wrapped his head around the fact that things had changed far more than he first thought. Really, after so long, he should have expected it.

He ignored the faint taste of blood on the back of his tongue.

“Nah, there’s a few settlements around there.” Tommy jabbed a thumb in the direction of the forests and sea they had come from, before placing a hand on his chest. “I grew up in one of them, so I would know! But admittedly, there isn’t much else in Old Esempii. Most of the action goes on in Esempii proper.”

He made a light sound of victory as he finally got the gate to open, and Tommy wasted no time in pushing it open and marching in. Dream followed, still processing the new information - he knew, annoyingly, that would be happening a lot. He turned his attention to the building that loomed above them, several stories tall and extremely grand. It was made of stone bricks and red concrete, held up by spruce. Another new addition, and one that Dream could recognise Sam’s involvement in. After having so many meetings with the man regarding the construction of Pandora’s Vault, he was more than familiar with his handiwork, even if Dream himself was responsible for most of the design work. 

“Welcome to my hideout!” Tommy announced, proudly throwing his arms out to gesture at it. He placed his hands on his hips, tail wagging gently behind him. “Cool, isn’t it? I found it a couple years back, and thought I better snag it before someone else takes it for themself, so I basically own it now.”

Dream nodded along, floating over to where a large wooden sign stood outside the building. He backed up to take in the whole sign, and almost laughed at how ironic it was, when he took in the big yellow letters, paint worn and chipped from age but legible.

Big Innit Hotel.

Chapter Text

In Piglin culture, shoats are considered old enough to leave the nest at the tender age of ten years. It's an expectation that they move out within a week of their birthday, and while tradition encourages them to stay in the village so their family and neighbours can still assist their growth with their experience, it isn't uncommon for ambitious shoats to set off on their own.

Tommy was not a piglin, but being an orphan, he was raised by a zombified one.

Arrow was a warm, unyielding presence throughout his childhood, who wasn't so much an adoptive mother as she was a distant aunt. She used to be an adventurer, and told him stories of her glory days as she melted gold for jewellery-making. She offered him a room in her house, fed him, clothed him, but never took an ounce of responsibility over his actions.

When Tommy reached ten years of age, she didn't force him out. Arrow did, however, encourage him to explore for himself, and find a place he could call home. Having grown up on her stories, he was more than happy to give it a try, restless for something more exciting than their small village in the forest.

Ruins made up most of the Old Esempii area, so Tommy thought it made perfect sense to settle in one of the more structurally sound ones. He decided on the large red hotel for multiple reasons; because it had several stories and plenty of space, with beds and chests that may need repair but were mostly ready to be used. Because it had a nice view from the roof and balconies he could practise his flying from. Because he liked the look of it.

Most importantly, though, was because he made something of a friend there.

Okay, maybe 'friend' wasn't the best way to put it, since they had never actually interacted, but Tommy had always been a little bit sentimental, especially at ten and a half years old. The point was there was one thing the red hotel had that none of the other buildings in the ruins had, and that was a robot.

They stood by the door, a stiff figure made of rusted iron. Weeds curled around their ankles through cracked stone, and it was hard to see the brightness of their safety gear when it was covered in dirt. Their artificial eyes were half lidded, dull with lack of use, and their ears and tail hung limply. Tommy had never seen another humanoid with raccoon features, and the kinsmanship that stirred in his chest was more than enough of a sign for him to bunker down in the hotel they seemingly guarded.

They were an integral part of Tommy's life as it is, even if they weren't much more than a background ornament, so naturally they were the first thing Tommy showed Dream when he began to tour him around his humble abode.

"This is Nook!" He proudly gestured towards the robot with a grin, before stepping up beside them to pat their arm. "I call 'em that because it kinda looks like they have the word Nook printed on the back of their neck, for some reason. I don't know how to get them working, but that's okay, because they're still poggers. Cool, isn't it?"

Dream moved closer, as if to get a closer look at Nook, and Tommy was momentarily struck by how amazingly strange it was that he was introducing a robot to a ghost . Sure, it wasn't quite the same as if Nook was functioning, but it was still an impressive experience by itself. Maybe the wonder of seeing a ghost hadn't quite worn off yet.

Despite Nook being so very awesome, Dream didn't seem as impressed as Tommy had been anticipating. Instead, he let out a short hum, folding his arms over his chest. "Yeah, it's pretty cool. But it's redstone powered, right? You probably need to just change the block or whatever that's acting as the battery."

Dream said it so confidently, with an edge of smugness, that only left Tommy even more baffled as he blinked slowly at the other. "Redstone? What makes you think my man Nook is powered on redstone?"

"Because what else would it be powered with? Everything else would produce too much smoke to be used on a robot." He replied like Tommy was the one who had asked a stupid question - which he very much had not, because his question was well within reason. It seemed like Dream realised that too, because a moment later, he let out a sigh. "What, do you not use redstone anymore?"

"No, nobody fucking does." Tommy placed his hands on his hips as he pressed his mouth into something of a scowl. "It's radioactive or something, innit?"

"It's what ?"

Apparently Dream hadn’t been aware of this fact, considering he seemed genuinely alarmed. Tommy waved a hand dismissively, quick to clarify what he meant with a snort. "Not at a lethal level or anything, but nobody really uses it anymore to be safe. I dunno, I don't know much about that kind of shit."

"Well, what do people use now, if they don't use redstone dust?" Dream asked, turning to face him directly, and Tommy wasn’t quite sure if it was out of curiosity or disbelief. In hindsight, he probably should have expected the ghost to be surprised by everything, considering he was apparently around when Old Esempii was yet to be old. 

"Wires. Usually made of iron, sometimes copper, stuff like that." Tommy wasn’t sure about that, because again, he was never interested in that kind of stuff, but he played it off like he knew what he was talking about. 

Dream hummed in acknowledgement, turning his gaze back to the robot. After a moment, he shook his head with a sad sigh. “Either way, this robot looks old enough to be from my time, so it would still be redstone powered. If you don’t have easy access to redstone anymore, it’s as good as dead. I don’t think there’s any way around it.”

Tommy paused at that, frowning as he turned back to Nook. He looked into their dusty, dull eyes and thought that they did look pretty dead, but the word itself made discomfort settle heavy in his stomach. It was true that he had never met Nook when awake and functioning, but Dream’s assessment made it feel like an impossibility, final. It was stupid, but it almost felt like Tommy had lost something he had never had in the first place. He cleared his throat, tucking his tail between his legs. “Right- yeah, I should’ve guessed. If I couldn’t figure out how to wake ‘em up on my own, there was no chance!” 

He laughed, shaking off his temporary sadness with ease, but Dream tried to comfort him regardless, adopting a light, joking tone as he drifted closer. “Hey, it sucks, but you’ve got me now! And I’m much better than Nook, right? I mean, at least you can actually talk to me.”

Tommy cracked a smile, even as his wings flitted at the idea of comparing Nook to anyone else. “What, are you jealous or something, Big D?” The comment earned some stammered retort from Dream, who clearly disagreed with those implications and the nickname, which successfully sent Tommy into a flurry of snickers. He turned to the hotel lobby, gesturing for the ghost to follow as he finally entered the building, just as the interior lights automatically flickered on like they do every evening.

“I’ll give you a little bit of a tour, yeah?” He offered with a small grin, not sparing the lobby much of a glance. It was one of the areas of the hotel he had left virtually untouched, aside from a bit of cleaning, because there wasn’t much use for it. It’s not like he was actually running a hotel here. “Not the whole building, ‘cause I don’t actively occupy all of it - I wish I did, but I don’t have enough stuff for that. Just the important bits, you know.”

“Sounds good.” Dream looked around, appearing far more eager than Tommy had expected. He guessed this must all be very exciting for someone who had been stuck on a mountain for a while. Either way, he wasn’t complaining - he had no qualms against showing off.

Tommy nodded, pleased, and threw his arms out to gesture at the open space. “This is the lobby! I don’t really use it for shit, so we can move on.” He moved past the front desk, setting his foot on the ladder and reaching for a higher step to pull himself up. He was never a fan of the rough texture of the worn rope, but it held his weight so he found no need to change it. 

He twisted around to look at Dream, mischief lighting up his face as he steadied himself. "Let's start at the top floor. Last one there is a rotten apple!"

Dream was caught off guard by the challenge, and Tommy took the opportunity to get a head start, instantly pushing up to scale the ladder as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, despite calling for the game himself, it ended up rigged against him, since he had conveniently forgotten Dream could phase through the floors.

"Hey!" Tommy shouted after him as he rose past him, scandalised by the unfairness of it all. He huffed when Dream simply laughed in response, adjusting to try and climb even faster. He would have used his wings to boost himself if he could, but the space left for the ladders was too tight for him to fly through, much to his chagrin.

By the time he got to the top floor, he was exhausted from pushing himself up the ladder as well as all the rowing he'd done throughout the day. Tommy didn't let that stop him from pushing up to his feet with vigour, but he grumbled loudly as he did so. As soon as he was upright again, he pointed an accusatory finger at Dream, who was hovering nearby with a smirk Tommy could feel from under his mask. "You cheated, asshole!"

"Did I?" He taunted, turning his head to take in the room itself with an annoyingly casual air. "If I remember correctly, you never specified any rules. We just had to get to the top as fast as we could, and I did." Tommy folded his arms over his chest, muttering curses under his breath until Dream turned his full attention back to him. "So I'm guessing this is where you sleep?"

Tommy perked up again, smiling as he strode further into the room. "Bit of a weird way to put it, but yeah, this is my bedroom!"

Dream made an unhappy noise in his throat. "But it's true -"

"I mean, all the other rooms came with a bed too, but this is on the top floor so it was basically the only option." He continued on like Dream hadn't said anything, moving to perch on the edge of his bed. It was fitted with an absurd amount of pillows and blankets, the result of many years of work towards making the heart of his den as comfy as possible. "Got some chests for my things that you don't need to look in because it's none of your business."

Tommy pointed out the collection of chests against the opposite wall; they held mundane items like clothes and toiletries. There was a blunt stone sword somewhere in the mix, for emergencies, but that was the most stealable thing in the whole assortment. 

Dream let out a flat laugh as he turned to follow Tommy's finger with his gaze. "I couldn't even if I wanted to." He took a moment to demonstrate why, reaching for the nearest wall only for his hand to sink cleanly through. "I'm incorporeal, remember?"

He was visibly not pleased with that little detail, so obviously, Tommy immediately leaned forward with a grin. "Prime, imagine not being able to touch anything. Couldn't be me. I'm simply too good."

"Yeah, okay." Dream muttered, hardly paying his comment much mind as he turned his attention to the other side of the room. "I see you have an enderchest too."

Tommy brightened at the mention of his enderchest, hopping up from his bed and marching over to it. "Sure do! Someone missed it in one of the other ruins, so I nicked it." He pressed on the enderpearl embedded in the lid, holding it down for a moment so it could identify him before letting go, hearing it unlock with a click. "You said you liked music discs too, right?"

He glanced over at Dream, who straightened up immediately at the question and floated towards him. "Right."

"Oh, then you're gonna be so fucking jealous." Tommy grinned, turning back to the enderchest and pulling out a disc rack made of wire, with seven discs wrapped in makeshift cardboard sleeves. He lowered himself to the floor so he could set it down on his lap, delicately pulling one disc out and holding it to the light. "See?! This one is Wait, it's one of my favourites, but I've got so many other good ones too!" He carefully slotted Wait back into its sleeve, putting it back on the rack and flicking through the rest of the discs as the usual joy began to warm his chest. "Look, I've got Far, and Strad. Oh, and Chirp! How could I forget Chirp-"

"Do you have Cat or Mellohi?" Tommy stiffened as Dream interrupted him, the ghost's voice far closer than before. He twisted around to find him close to leaning over his shoulder, and while he was momentarily surprised by the enthusiasm, he didn't see anything wrong with it.

"No, I don't." He pouted, slightly upset by the fact that he couldn't show off that he did have them. Tommy shifted, carefully lowering the disc rack back into the protected confines of his enderchest, closing the lid as he turned to face Dream properly. "Why, are Cat and Mellohi your favourite ones?"

Dream backed up with the discs safely tucked away, folding his arms behind his back as he replied slowly. "I guess you could say that. They're...important."

Tommy nodded sagely, getting to his feet with an idle swish of his tail. "Well, big man, tell you what. I can help you find a copy of each disc!"

He placed his hands on his waist, and even if it wasn't for himself, he felt the usual beginnings of excitement that came with looking for a new disc. Dream, on the other hand, seemed to trade his earlier enthusiasm for indifference, shrugging with disinterest. "No, it's fine. It's been so long, they're not important anymore."

Tommy frowned, and a part of him wanted to argue, but it was an offer for Dream's benefit so if he wanted to reject it, that was his choice. Still, he hesitated to move on as he dropped his hands. "You sure?"

"Yes." He replied sharply, so confident that Tommy supposed he really was sure. A shame, because he would always take an excuse to go disc hunting, but one he could easily brush off.

"Okay then. Um," Tommy looked around, trying to find if there was anything else in the room he could point out while he was here, "oh! Yeah, there's also a bathroom through here." He walked over to a door on the right of the room, pushing it open to reveal a simple shower, toilet and sink squashed into a comfortably small space. "It's the only one that works in the entire building, because I got my friend to fix the plumbing and shit for me. He's good at that sort of stuff." He paused, turning to look pointedly at Dream who was still hovering by the enderchest. "Though I guess you don't care, since you can't piss or shit, can you?"

Dream let out a long sigh. "No, Tommy, I can't. Is there anything else you need to show me?"

Tommy snickered, almost able to picture the exasperated expression beneath the mask, but complied with his subtle nudging, closing the door. "Not in here, I don't. We can go down a level."

As soon as he said that, Dream melted into the floor. 

Tommy was tempted to complain against it, because it was a little unfair, really, but he had enough sense to know that conversation probably wouldn't lead to much. Besides, the next level was his favourite one in the building, so he would much rather talk about that.

He only used the ladder to pass through the upper floor before promptly releasing the rungs and letting his wings soften the fall. It was unnecessary, because the most he'd get is a sprained ankle, but it was instinctual above all else so he couldn't help it. Tommy spun around to take in the room, a smile spreading across his face as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

"This is my hoard." He announced, puffing his chest out with pride as Dream seemed to take in the room with open curiosity. It had a bed like every other room in this hotel, but it only had a bare mattress on top of it. The real centerpiece of the room came from the mess of boxes and chests that occupied the space, all overflowing with goodies that had caught his eye over the years.

"Your hoard?" Dream asked flippantly, drifting over to squint at one of the open boxes, and Tommy felt the urge to point out how idiotic of a question that was. He barely restrained himself, instead electing to respond in the most obnoxiously condescending tone.

"Yeah, 'cause I like to collect things that catch my attention. You ever heard of hoarding instincts, bitch boy?" Tommy walked over to one of the closer chests, opening it to take a look inside because he didn't have that much self-control, especially not in this room. 

Dream huffed, and he couldn't quite tell if the sound was positive or not. "So this is a bunch of junk, basically?"

Tommy gasped in mock offense, though he would admit there was a slight degree of truth to it too - any hybrid with hoarding instincts would take any criticism to their collection personally. “Excuse me, this is cool junk, at the very least!” He rummaged through the chest, eyes catching on the way the light reflected on the shiny surfaces of some of the items with interest. He grabbed one of these sources and pulled it out, showing Dream a lopsided silver bracelet. It was a little battered, and the misshapen nature clearly came from a mistake when shaping the metal, but it was shiny and fit on his wrist, even if it pinched at his skin a little. “See?” Tommy used his other hand to fish out a wooden carving of a fox, just about larger than his closed fist, and similarly presented it to the ghost. “See? Cool shit!”

Dream leaned forward as if to get a closer look at the items, but he didn’t seem particularly impressed. After a moment, he hummed as he moved across the room to peek inside a box that seemed to be half covered with a fur lined coat. “Well, it seems like a waste to me, but if it makes you happy.”

“You just have no fucking taste, man.” Tommy insisted as he put the bracelet and carving back in the chest, snapping the lid shut with a pout. “And plenty of stuff in here is useful! I’ve got a whole box of different lanterns and lamps over there.” He pointed out an already open chest next to Dream, a variety of metal frames and bulbs resting within it that couldn’t quite be seen from this distance. 

Dream stared at the collection of lanterns and lamps, before turning his gaze directly at Tommy’s wings as he replied, completely deadpan. “Yeah, that’s not a surprise.”

“Oh, fuck you!” He groused as his wings twitched under the weight of his eyes, and Dream chuckled breezily in return. Tommy moved over to the ladder, grabbing a rung as he sent Dream a set smirk. “C’mon, you asshole, I’ve got one more floor to show you and then you can look through the rest of them yourself. If I stay here any longer, I’ll get distracted by something and then you won’t be able to get me out for another hour.”

“Alright then.” Once again, Dream punctuated the sentence by seamlessly disappearing into the floor, but this time, Tommy was prepared. He climbed down the ladder in quick tandem, and was pretty proud of the fact that he was only slightly slower, considering that climbing was much harder than drifting. He hopped off the rungs, landing smoothly on the stone floor and giving the room a cursory glance, even though he knew it about as well as he knew the back of his own hand.

The bed in this room was also fitted with a bare mattress, because it acted as a seat more than an actual bed. There were more chests on both sides of the room, but the left side also held a cooking furnace and a sink, along with some counter space made of stone. The right side, to make up for the lack of these amenities, had a smelting furnace and two crafting tables instead. To be honest, Tommy didn’t use them for much aside from making basic tools. 

“Storage room?” Dream guessed, floating over to the smelting furnace and ducking down as if to check what was inside. A pointless venture, since Tommy hadn't used it in a good few months, when he had stumbled across some visible iron ore on a trip through the ruins. 

"And kitchen!" Tommy corrected cheekily, because he couldn't simply let Dream be right, jabbing a thumb towards the left side of the room. "I'd say that's the most important part, but I guess it doesn't matter to you since you can't eat. Can you?"

"Take a wild guess."

Tommy narrowed his eyes, pretending to scrutinise the ghost for a moment, before relaxing into faux pity. "Imagine not being able to eat. How very sad your life must be."

"Isn't it better to not have to eat?" Dream argued back with a hint of a smile in his voice, drifting closer to him. "I always have energy. Not having to maintain my health is one of the only perks of not having a body."

"Yeah, but you miss out on the flavour! The experience!" Tommy gestured wildly but Dream didn't seem very convinced by his flawless reasoning, so he opted to drop it with a huff. "You suck. Fine, here's the chests for the food supply that doesn't matter to you." He walked over to the closest chest, patting its lid with the same fondness as a fluffy animal. This was mostly because the food supply was a pretty vital component to his continued existence. 

"So these are for the rest of your stuff." Dream concluded, stating the obvious as he turned to nod towards the chest on the other side of the room. He paused for a moment, head moving from side to side like he was searching for something, before tacking on, "I'm guessing there's no kind of organisation."

"'Course not, who do you take me for, a pussy?" Tommy snorted, and he would have taken this opportunity to elbow Dream in the ribs if it was physically possible, but alas, it was not. He settled for a cocky grin instead. "I don't need organisation or signs when I have a nose. Got the nose of a hunting dog, I do, I could sniff out anything I could possibly need from those chests in less than a second- oh, that reminds me!" He gingerly reached into his pocket, pulling out the mask shard as he hurried over to the other side of the room. "I was thinking about it, and I figured it'd be easier to tie this to some string and wear it around my neck."

"Well, it's already been more than a second." Dream said as Tommy rummaged through the chests, slightly condescending and mostly amused. Tommy narrowed his eyes at the ghost, victoriously pulling out a roll of string and some scraps of leather in his free hand. 

"Nope. No, it hasn't." He plopped down on the floor, setting the string down as he began to wrap the leather around the porcelain shard. There was some playful back-and-forth between them as he fiddled with the leather, twisting and tying it until the porcelain was completely covered and no longer at risk of cutting him, but he wasn't paying it too much attention.

Tommy threaded the string through a small loop of leather, tying it off before slipping it over his head and around his neck. "There we go! That should still work for you, right?"

He tilted his head to look expectantly at Dream, who shrugged casually like it wasn't his existence tied to the porcelain he had just painstakingly turned into a pendant. "I don't see why not."

"Cool!" Tommy smiled as he got to his feet, patting the leather bundle where it rested against his chest. He looked around the room, before turning to squint outside the window at the waning moon. "Uh, that's about it, I reckon. I'm gonna go to my room and relax a bit before going to sleep, you know how it is." He rocked back on his heels, his smile growing sheepish as his gaze flickered over to Dream. "I'm...not sure what ghosts usually do at night, but you can go haunt the place, I guess? Go scare some fuckers, sometimes adventurers pass by during the night."

"It may be fun to take a look around," Dream mused, tapping his chin in a way that looked incredibly stupid, because there was a mask in the way, "but I, ah, kinda assumed you were nocturnal." He sounded uncertain, but it didn't come off as a question.

Tommy was used to the confusion around his sleep cycle, but he still pulled a face. "Oh, I am." He explained, tilting his chin upwards. "Naturally, at least."

A heavy pause settled between them as Dream presumably waited for him to elaborate and Tommy, who enjoyed being a nuisance, waited for him to break it before cutting in. "So-"

"Society, innit?" Tommy bit down a giggle at the pure displeasure that radiated from Dream, even without a face or tone to convey it, and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to return to his terribly feigned aloofness. "Most things happen during the day, most people are more willing to hang out during the day, you know how it is. When I was a kid, I got so fed up with never being able to play with the other village kids that I just forced myself to follow their sleep schedules and it stuck. It takes me a little longer to fall asleep, but it works."

"Interesting." Dream mumbled, more to himself than Tommy, who really didn't think it was all that interesting. It was just a necessity to maintain any semblance of a social life. He seemed to notice Tommy openly staring at him a moment later, straightening up and raising his voice. "That's fine. Like I said, I'll spend the night taking a look around, and come back here in the morning."

"Sounds good to me." He didn't have any preference to what Dream did when he was gonna be fast asleep anyway, as long as he gave Tommy his privacy, but that was just common sense. Tommy stretched his arms over his head, passing Dream to get to the ladder and casting a lazy glance behind him. "Then I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Goodnight, Tommy." It wasn't a proper answer, but he could hear a smile, so he took it as a yes.

"Night!" Tommy gave him a quick, two-fingered salute before grabbing the rungs of the ladder and making the climb up. He pretended he couldn't feel a smile threatening his lips as he processed the events of the day, excited by the new companion and the slight change of pace.

All in all, he'd consider that a good day. 

It wasn't a lie, really.

As Tommy got ready for bed, Dream took a trip around the area, taking in the familiar, overgrown sights. He bitterly looked over the imposing silhouette of the prison he never got to use, swallowing around the taste of blood in the back of his throat as he swiftly moved on. For a brief moment, he considered testing the free range he had, but ultimately decided it was unnecessary. He didn't think he'd need to stray that far from Tommy, and if he did, he could always convince him to go where he wanted.

He returned to the hotel two or three hours later to find Tommy sound asleep, curled on his stomach and hugging a pillow to his chest. Dream spent the rest of the night watching him sleep.

There really wasn't anything better for him to do, and it was nostalgic, in a strange sense. From ages ago, when Tommy spent his first few nights in the heart of the Esempii in the Community House with Dream and his old friends. From when he used to travel underneath Tommy's floorboards in the dead of night, catching snores through the walls. From when he'd find him curled up in his flimsy tent, sleeping quieter than before. Besides, even the small shifts and murmurs that occasionally broke up Tommy's slumber was infinitely more entertaining than the same static mountain Dream had been forced to haunt for far too long.

He sank back down to one of the lower floors once Tommy showed signs of actually waking up to avoid being caught in the act, because he wasn't going to place his bets on how well that would be received. Twenty minutes later, Tommy stumbled into the room with tousled hair and a lazy yawn, rubbing one eye as he shuffled over to his storage of food. Dream silently watched him open one of the chests and dig inside for breakfast, not bothering to greet him as he followed a habit of quiet observance that had been ingrained in him well before his death.

That decision, at least, made for a rather funny reaction since Tommy had clearly forgotten about him during the course of one night. He straightened up with a loaf of bread in hand, mumbling about needing to stock up soon, only to turn around and visibly jump as his eyes landed on Dream. "Holy Prime-! You ever heard of a good morning?!"

"This was much funnier." Dream chuckled at the glare Tommy shot him as he closed the lid of the chest with his free hand, nodding towards him. "But yes, good morning."

"Bit late for that." Tommy grumbled as he retrieved a bottle of apple juice from another chest. He sat down on the bread and placed the bottle beside him, brushing flour off the baked shell of the loaf before taking a hearty bite. "So how was your late night haunting?"

He talked with his mouth full, unabashedly lacking in manners in a way Dream was itching to reprimand him on. He settled for answering his question instead, because he was meant to be friendly. "It was good, it was good." He paused, watching Tommy tear off a piece of bread and pop it in his mouth as he tried to think of non-intrusive small talk. "How was your...sleep?"

Tommy barked out a laugh, leaning back with the force of the sound as he put his half-eaten loaf in his lap. “You are absolute shit at small talk, you know that?”

Dream folded his arms over his chest with a scoff, reclining languidly against the air. “Okay, well, it’s been- it’s been at least a hundred or two years since I last talked to anyone, let alone small talk. I’m not exactly in practise.”

“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that.” Tommy mocked as he opened his bottle, taking a few sips before placing it on the floor, just behind his legs. He straightened up with a shockingly serious expression. “Let’s just cut to the chase. This book that you wanna look for?”

If Dream had a heartbeat, it might have skipped a beat with the amount of anticipation that simple sentence sent through his being. “Yes?”

“Have you got any ideas on where it might be?” Tommy returned to talking with his mouth full as he got back to work on his bread, furrowing his brows thoughtfully. “‘Cause I was thinking about this in bed last night, right, and I realised that we’re gonna be shit outta luck if you don’t.”

It was a decent question, but Dream couldn’t help the laugh that wanted to force its way out. It was ironic, because he was sure Tommy was expecting this trip to require some preparation, or otherwise take up a considerable amount of time. Dream himself had considered this a genuine possibility before they arrived at the mainland. “Lucky for us, then, because I know exactly where I left it.” He said with a playful smirk, moving closer to Tommy as he watched him lean forward with interest, ears perking up in parallel. He leaned forward too, in the same way one would before sharing a secret, and a part of him delighted in how Tommy didn’t shy away just as much as it mourned the fact. “Even better, it’s nearby. We should be able to get to it by the end of today, no problem.”

Dream, as previously established, had a habit of watching Tommy’s expressions in particular, so he was pleasantly surprised to recognise disappointment flash across his features for the briefest moment. “Oh, that’s awesome! We can go get it once I finish breakfast, just gimme ten.”

Tommy proceeded to shove as much bread as possible into his mouth at once. This, Dream did reprimand him for, on account of the fact that it was a choking hazard and while he was pretty sure Tommy still had three lives, he wasn’t going to risk his only hope on a hypothetical. 

They left the hotel fifteen minutes later, with Tommy giving the robot at the entrance a cheery goodbye as they passed. Dream frowned but didn’t comment, because it was unrealistic for Tommy to give up on Nook in less than a day anyway. He took the lead once they stepped back onto the main Prime Path, with Tommy trailing close behind, and made the short trip past the bench and down the stairs.

“When you said nearby, I really didn’t expect it to be this nearby.” Tommy admitted flatly, placing his hands on his hips as he looked around the area. Unsurprisingly, he must have been familiar with it, because he seemed far from impressed.

When Dream first got his hands on the revive book, he knew he had to hide it away. If and when people found out he had it, they would be vying for it themselves, and he wasn’t about to make it easy for them. The location he decided on was somewhere that could be overlooked, even if it was in a widely public area.

A very important chest was buried underneath the pond running under the Prime Path, where Dream had his duel with Tommy.

There could be something symbolic there, but the truth of it was Dream chose that spot because it was close enough to a water source, and a historically important one at that, that he doubted anyone would go digging around in it. Mountains and land got dug up all the time, but once water filled a crater, it was often left untouched. 

“Yeah, well, it is. Surprise!” Dream pulled off some very lackluster jazz hands, partly because Tommy clearly didn’t enjoy this little surprise enough to find humour in them and partly because he didn’t care to put in the effort. He tucked his arms back into his cloak, drifting out over the water and nodding downwards. “The chest with my book should be somewhere down there. On this side, if I remember correctly.” He floated over to the left side of the pond as he spoke, acting as a visual marker of where it might be. 

Tommy peered over the edge of the Prime Path, tail curling at the end as he grimaced. “Okay. Problem with that, big man. I can’t really go into that pond for you.”

Of course, he was expecting Tommy to kick up a fuss sooner or later, but he would have preferred it happen when he wasn’t moments away from his goal. Dream's voice lowered all the same as he set his full attention on the other. “Why not?”

“I’ve got these stupidly delicate wings, y’know?” Tommy turned his head to glance at the wings in question as they unfolded, twitching in place as if to prove they were there. If he noticed the vague underneath Dream's words, he didn't react to it. “Water messes up the scales and all that, and it’s a pain in the ass to deal with.”

Dream blinked, having expected Tommy's refusal to come from something a little less rooted in fact, and considered this information as his eyes skimmed the shape of Tommy's wings. “Will the water kill you?”

Tommy huffed, folding his arms and raising his chin with a vaguely smug smile. “I’ll have you know that most moths that get their wings drenched do, in fact, die. It takes wings ages to dry, so they can’t get to food and-”

“I didn’t ask about moths, I asked about you .” Dream snapped before he could finish his presumably long-winded explanation, barely reeling himself in and softening his tone. He knew from experience that too much frustration would upset their balance, and he couldn’t afford that with his life on the line. “So? Will you?”

“Well. No,” Tommy conceded as his smile faded, the syllables dragging reluctantly before transitioning into a childish whine, “but I still don’t want to go down there. It’ll make my wings all useless and heavy!”

Dream narrowed his eyes, letting his gaze fall back to where he knew the chest was hidden. He had to remind himself that this Tommy wouldn’t bend to demands, because he desperately wanted to push buttons that were no longer there to get him to comply. There was no way around the fact that the revive book was under the pond, and unfortunately Dream didn’t have the ability to grab it himself and Tommy didn’t want to, so he’d have to figure out a compromise. 

“...Dream? You went all quiet on me, bud.” He ignored Tommy’s attempts to talk to him as he trailed his eyes away from the resting place of the chest and up towards the bank of the pond. He sighed, spinning to face Tommy after a moment of thought.

“Then the only way to get to it is to dig under the pond itself and grab it like that.” Dream concluded with a clap of his hands to make it sound final, raising an eyebrow behind his mask. “Do you have a problem with that too?”

He phrased it like a challenge, which obviously made Tommy square his shoulders and frown, scoffing as he averted his gaze to inspect the bank. “‘Course not! I’m not a bitch, I just can’t go in the water, I can’t help that!” His gaze snapped back to Dream’s mask, a grin lighting up his face. “But digging- I can do digging! Just tell me where to go and make sure I don’t dig into the water.”

Dream nodded, relaxing as he was once again assured with the fact that the revive book was in reach. “Yeah, I can do that. I think if you start digging down there,” he pointed to a spot just past the bank, “then you’ll miss the water and find the chest pretty quickly.”

Tommy made a noise of affirmation, carefully gliding over the water to land where Dream pointed. He turned to face him, examining the dirt beneath his feet. “Here?”

“Exactly. Stay there, I’ll go check the exact location of the chest and then you can start digging.” Dream instructed before descending into the water. There was something odd about it, because a fleeting thought about needing to hold his breath crossed his mind despite his lack of breath overall, but he didn’t consider it for longer than a second. Once he got to the bottom of the pond, he pushed his head into the mud and was pleased to find himself meeting the wooden lid of a chest, even partially rotted as it was. He had expected it to be there, but something about actually seeing it sent a burst of excitement through him.

By the end of this morning, he could be living again.

That excitement propelled him into shooting back out of the pond with far more speed than the languid pace he had sunk into it with, and promptly died down when he immediately realised Tommy hadn’t listened to him, as evidenced by the new hole where he once stood. Dream smiled slightly, because he had expected about as much, and drifted down to meet him. “What did I say about staying there?”

“Yeah, well, you took too long, dickhead.” Tommy grunted, dislodging the dirt with an iron shovel before it disappeared into his feet in a swirl of white, pocketing it away into his inventory without much thought. 

“I was gone for five minutes at most.” Dream pointed out as he watched Tommy work, glancing up to gauge how far down they were. “A little bit further, then you can start digging forward. You shouldn’t hit any water.”

“Right.” Tommy paused with a huff, digging the toe of his shovel into the dirt as he brushed his hair out of his face, smudging some dirt on his cheek. He frowned, sucking in a deep breath as he tilted his head up to look at the sky before setting back to work, more force behind his digging.

“You’re claustrophobic.” It was a statement, a verbal reminder that Dream mostly meant for himself, but Tommy answered regardless.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s fine when I’ve got shit to focus on. It mostly kicks in when I feel trapped, and can’t get out. This is fine, ‘cause I’ve got control over all this.” He hesitated, craning his neck to glance over at Dream, who was hovering half inside the surrounding dirt. It felt less strange than he expected. “This low enough, or do I need to go further?”

“This should be just about right.”

Tommy nodded, glancing down at his shovel before dismissing it to his inventory, apparently deciding the best course of action would be to claw at the remaining dirt. He supposed that with the lack of space and the angle, the shovel would be more of a hindrance anyway, so Dream didn’t comment on it as he watched the other work. He was making fast progress, and it took ten minutes at most for his claws to scrape along aged wood.

Tommy perked up instantly, smiling brightly. “Fuck yeah, we did it! And without having to get wet either.” He twisted around to stick his tongue out at Dream, clearly smug over this fact, and it was funny how he seemed to nearly match Dream’s own thrill at this achievement, despite having no idea of the true importance of the book itself.

“Don’t say that, we haven’t got the chest out yet.” Dream teased, gesturing for Tommy to move his focus back to the task at hand. He really couldn’t wait much longer now that the end was in reach - if he was able to, he would have pried the chest out already.

Tommy, thankfully, took the hint and began to dig around the chest, dirt crumbling beneath his fingertips as he wriggled them against the sides. It was stubborn, dirt packed against it on all sides, and Dream noticed Tommy hesitate from digging too upwards in fear of hitting water, but eventually he had disturbed enough of it that he was able to pull the chest towards him, freeing it from the earth entirely.

“ Now we’ve done it!” Dream smiled, not quite able to contain the giddiness that bled into his tone. “Let’s- Let’s get out, then! No point in staying down here.”

Tommy grinned back at him, shifting the chest so he could hold it under one arm, only to thin his lips and wince. Dream hummed as he drifted towards the hole to the surface, a quiet question that Tommy responded to once he started walking again. “The chest’s a bit prickly, but that’s okay. A big man like me isn’t scared of a couple splinters.”

“Good, because I can’t help you if you are.” Dream glided into the sunlight, and wasted no time in ascending back to surface level. He chuckled as Tommy watched him with an almost offended expression, despite it being entirely his fault for digging the hole without an easy escape route. “Did you forget that you had to get out as well?”

“Shut the fuck up, man! Unlike you, I am very much not dead, and therefore don’t have spooky ghost powers;” Tommy turned his glare to the dirt in front of him like he could destroy it with will alone. His wings twitched against his back, but he seemed to already know the space would be too tight for him to fly out of, because he put the chest down in the tunnel they came from and promptly began to claw frantically at the dirt. 

Eventually, he got out, with no help from Dream’s impatient gaze and occasional laughter. Tommy managed to dig out a haphazard staircase from the dirt, and collected the chest again before trudging out. He dropped onto the grass as soon as he could, putting the chest down again with a soft thump as he let out a loud groan. “You owe me for that one, Dream. My claws hurt now, which is weird because they’ve never done that before. I haven’t even broken one!”

“Oh, you’re fine, you’re fine. Don’t be dramatic.” Dream drawled, a mix of reassurance and mockery because he was much more interested in the freshly retrieved chest. He came to hover cross legged beside Tommy, resting his elbows on his knees as he gestured towards the chest. “Well? Let me see my book.”

“Pri, you really like this thing, huh?” Tommy breathed out a laugh, but leaned forward as he stopped rubbing at his claws. “Okay, okay, I’m opening it, calm down.” He fidgeted with the lid, trying to get a grip on the clasp before finally getting it unlocked. Dream drifted closer as Tommy pushed the lid open, anticipation close to anxiety making him feel sick for the first time in far longer than he could remember.

They both stiffened.

The chest was empty.

"So...got any other ideas, big man?"

“Any other- why would I have any other ideas ? It was supposed to be here!” The ghost’s lips were coated in neon blood, not that his companion could see that, with the mask in place. “It didn’t look like it had been dug up. What kind of madman goes digging up a pond anyway?”

“Okay, seriously, chill. Chill!” The boy was on his feet now, holding his hands up. “Lucky for you, I’ve got an idea. I told you, I was thinking about this in bed, yeah? I didn’t know if you would know where your book was, and now you definitely don’t, so I thought up a backup plan!”

Silence filled the space between them as the ghost stared at him, emotion indiscernible. Then, he visibly relaxed, head tilting curiously. “Let’s hear it, then.”

Unbeknownst to the both of them, a witness had stumbled upon this conversation. He watched them cautiously, keeping strictly out of the sight of the ghost. He wasn’t quite as concerned of the boy spotting him, because he knew from experience that he didn’t have the ability to see ghosts - or most ghosts, apparently and regrettably.

Sam desperately wished he did, though, now more than ever as he watched Tommy sheepishly pitch his plan to the worst enemy of his last life. Maybe then he could stop what he knew could only end badly.

Chapter Text

Well, Tommy certainly had an idea .

The downside to this was that Dream despised it.

"Who- what did you say?" He asked, just to make sure he hadn't misheard him even though he had a horrible suspicion he hadn't.

"That we should go visit my best friend, Tubbo! He's a moobloom-bee hybrid, and he's super pog." Tommy grinned brightly, visibly excited just with the mention of the other. Of course . He paused, tilting his head to the side in thought. "Plus he lives in Snowchester, and they've got an archive over there or something. That sounds like the kind of place they'd put an old book someone dug up."

Dream wanted to shut the idea down instantly. He wanted to steer Tommy away from Tubbo, because the last thing he needed was a pawn to act as an obstacle again. Really, he should have known there couldn't be one without the other, but it would have been so much easier if there was.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much of a choice. Above all else, Dream needed that book, and if that required meeting a reincarnated Tubbo, then he'd have to take it in stride. Annoying as it may be, he could take care of any smaller issues later. 

"That...sounds like a good idea." He said slowly, the words tasting like ash and blood in his mouth. He suddenly felt exhausted in a way that shouldn't be possible, the harsh switch between excitement to irritation draining him. Dream craned his neck to glance impatiently at the sun's sluggish crawl across the sky. "We should get going. No point in wasting time here."

Dream turned his glare towards the rotting chest. If he was able, he would have kicked it to watch the useless thing crumble. Maybe set some TNT alight to make the process easier. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it." If Tommy noticed his frustration, he didn't point it out, instead squaring his shoulders as he turned on his heel. He stretched his wings in idle preparation as he tapped his chin. "In hindsight, we should've gone to see him in the first place."

"And why's that?" Dream threw the quip out without much care for the answer, following close behind Tommy as he took off. He was glad that the mask on his face was mostly intact, unlike its physical counterpart, because he couldn't imagine his scowl at any mention of Tubbo to be well received, even if he had perfectly good reasons to dislike him. 

Most prominently, he had died to his past life's hand. The taste of blood worsened on his tongue, and he swallowed it down in clumps. 

Tommy's laugh shook him from his thoughts, proud and anticipatory in one breath, and Dream furrowed his eyebrows. He had been expecting a convoluted explanation that boiled down to the fact that they were regrettably best friends, even in this life. The lack of such only made Dream's interest pique, especially when his actual response was so short.

Tommy clumsily turned around in midair, eyes shining with something smug on behalf of someone who wasn't there. 

"Just you wait, you'll see what I mean."

If you asked the people of Snowchester to give you a generic name, they'd instantly reply with "Tubbo Live". Tubbo was the name of their founder, so it was a perfectly respectable baby name, and Live was the most common surname under the sun. It didn't take much to put two and two together.

The Tubbo Live that was Tommy's best friend had never cared enough to actively distinguish himself from the crowd - glory had never really interested him, and in a country as small as Snowchester was, fame felt pretty inconsequential. He was perfectly content to farm and tinker and mind his own business most of the time, with the exception of causing a bit of youthful havoc whenever he and Tommy felt especially energetic.

Besides, he already stood out without any extra effort. 

"Oh, that's a funny looking one!" Jack said over his shoulder, referring to the misshapen carrot Tubbo had just pulled from the ground. It looked, vaguely, like a freaky baby head.

"Are you bored this afternoon, Jack Manifold?" Tubbo asked teasingly as he turned to face him, dismissing the carrot into his inventory. Jack was floating half a foot in the air, but that was par for the course. Tubbo had been able to see ghosts since the moment he was born, and he had long since stopped trying to figure out how the ones that stuck around worked.

Jack stuttered for a moment, but his reply came out headstrong and deflective. "What makes you say that?"

"You never watch me farm unless you have nothing better to watch." Tubbo stepped over to the next carrot, but paused in leaning over to grab its stem when he noticed another floating figure approaching. He straightened up, breaking into a grin as he waited for them to drift closer before greeting them. "You too, Puffy? Things must be going really slow today."

"What do you mean, I always watch you farm!" Puffy huffed, but the corners of her lips were curled upwards. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back as she glanced in the direction of the sea. "The kids are in school, I don't want to risk distracting them by haunting the classroom."

"They can't see you." Jack piped up with the confidence of someone who knew from experience. As such, Tubbo wasn't surprised when he followed that up with a lopsided smile. "Believe me, I've tried to distract them, just to see if they could." 

"Well, they're missing out on some thrilling commentary." He mumbled, an odd amalgamation of bitterness and amusement as he reached for the carrot again. The ability to see and speak to the dead was a blessing from Lady Death, the village said, but Tubbo had a feeling people overestimated how important the things the dead had to say were.

"Speaking of our commentary, I think that's Tommy coming over!" Puffy brought a hand up to shield her eyes and get a better look at the approaching blot in the sky. Jack moved to her side to get a closer look too, squinting as he rose slightly higher. 

"Really? He didn't say he was visiting today." Tubbo mused once he pulled the carrot up, brushing loose dirt off its surface before turning his attention to the sky. Sure enough, he easily recognised the tan wings and accompanying silhouette, even from this far away. His wings buzzed for a moment, a subconscious effort at displaying his excitement. If Tommy was arriving unannounced, some shenanigans were bound to ensue, and Tubbo would gladly take that over tedious carrot farming.

“Yeah, that’s definitely him.” Jack sighed, stating the obvious as he lowered back down with a small frown. He studied Tommy’s figure as it properly took shape with the lessened distance, thought buffering across his expression until realisation suddenly struck him. “Hang on, is that-?”

He didn’t get a chance to elaborate on his great realisation as Tommy had entered a suitable shouting range, and took the opportunity to announce his already recognised presence, as Tommy often does. “TUBBO! Man, do I have shit to tell you!”

Tubbo snorted, taking that as his cue to send the carrot in his hand to his inventory too. He checked how many he had harvested, promptly deciding that he had done enough for today and if that was untrue, he didn’t care. “Yeah, and now the whole of Snowchester knows that too.” He joked as he walked to meet Tommy on the edge of the carrot farm, brushing dirt off his hands. It took him a moment to register the lack of translucent figures in the corner of his eye, and while Tommy was busy landing, he twisted around to check on Puffy and Jack. They were lingering a few metres behind him, further than they usually were, and wore similarly indescribable expressions, but it definitely wasn’t positive. 

Tubbo wanted to question them, but that thought was tucked away for later when Tommy ran over to meet him, tail curling happily behind him to contrast his rolled eyes. “Don’t care, never have. Snowchester loves me.” He boasted as he came to a stop in front of him, setting his hands on his hips. 

“Sure we do.” Tubbo smiled, all sarcasm as he blatantly ignored the instinctive rumble of greeting in his chest at the arrival of his most important person. Judging by Tommy’s smug smile, he wasn’t fooling anyone, but it was worth a shot. “So what’s happened now?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Tommy’s eyes glimmered with an excitement of his own as he gestured grandly as the empty air beside him. “You’re not the only one who can see ghosts anymore! I mentioned that I was gonna go visit The Shattered Mountain, yeah?” Tubbo nodded along, only vaguely confused by where this conversation was going. “Well, I did, and while I was there, I met Dream! He asked me to help him leave the island, and I obviously agreed, ‘cause I’m such a big man. Oh yeah, he was stuck on the island for some stupid reason-”

Tubbo interrupted with a laugh, finally realising what must be going on. “Yeah, very funny. What do you actually need, boss man? You know you can tell me anything.” Admittedly, it was a little out-of-character for Tommy to make fun of his ability to see ghosts, but he had made fun of him for much, much less and it was all in good fun. He received just as much shit from Tubbo. 

But instead of some sheepish admittance or outright denial, Tubbo was met with knitted eyebrows and outward confusion, strong to the point of bordering on concern. “What? Dude, I’m actually being serious.” His head snapped to where he had been gesturing, and his confusion seemed to double as he nodded encouragingly towards nothing. “Come on, Dream, say hi. Tubbo’s a ghosty boy, you know, in the sense that he can see you guys and not in the sense that he’s dead. He’s probably just messing with me.”

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Puffy chose that moment to speak up, voice closer than he last remembered her being and thick with uncertainty. “Tubbo, can you- can you not see him?”

“No, I really can’t see anything outside the ordinary.” Tubbo answered both parties at once with a hint of annoyance. It wasn’t pointed towards his company, he just wasn’t anticipating anything complex like this situation was shaping up to be. “Definitely not an entirely new person. Whoever this Dream guy is, I’m blind to his existence.”

Tommy’s face twisted, but his response was delayed as his left ear swivelled to the side, and wasn’t even to him when it came out with a flurry of waved arms in his direction. “But Tubbo is the- the fucking ghost whisperer ! He has to be able to see you!”

“Well, I can’t, but it’s a bit funny to see you talk to thin air, so I’m not complaining.” Tubbo chuckled airily, just as Jack grumbled something under his breath, presumably in response to something the invisible ghost said. It wasn’t a lie, he really couldn’t care less - again, Tubbo wasn’t the type to care for standing out.  

Tommy made some jumbled grunts of frustration in the back of his throat, but eventually came to some sort of conclusion, because he crossed his arms over his chest with a long exhale. “Okay, nevermind. That’s fucking weird, but I’ll cut to the chase because we’ve got shit to do.” He rolled his shoulders back, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet. “So, Dream’s looking for this old book of his, and I thought you could help us look for it because apparently someone stole it from the last place he left it. I was thinking we could start at the archives."

Tubbo let out a long hum of thought, tilting his head upwards as he considered his new information on the situation. After a beat, he snorted and raised an eyebrow. "Okay? I don't see why you need me for that, I'll be honest. You know Benson too, you can tell him you wanna poke around in there. He isn't gonna stop you."

Tommy’s confidence faltered slightly at that, and his arms fell back to his sides as he fumbled for some sort of excuse. "Yeah, but you're an archival assistant sometimes, aren't you? You know your way around better than me."

"Two years ago, maybe. I don't think I've stepped into the archives once after I stopped helping out." Tubbo retorted playfully, as if his mind wasn’t already made up. He knew from the second Tommy mentioned some sort of stupid quest that he was obligated to tag along, because what else was a best friend for?

"In fairness, I'm pretty sure you've been in there to take a look at the old weaponry pretty recently.” Jack muttered, just about audible from where he had moved into Tubbo’s peripheral, with far more caution to his actions than normal. Puffy had taken to flanking his other side, closer than usual. 

Tommy, who still wasn’t able to see them, barreled on with his attempts to convince him, groaning. “It’s a fuckin’ archive, Tubbo, I don’t think they’re gonna be recategorising the entire place within two years.”

“You don’t know that.” Tubbo said childishly, pausing to wave at one of his neighbours as she shuffled past with a thinly veiled look of amusement. Tommy glanced over at that and offered a lazy finger salute of his own, and their joint efforts earned them a nod of acknowledgement before Tubbo turned his attention back to the conversation with a grin. “But sure, I’ll come with. I’ve gotta wrap things up here at the farm, but if you wait for me outside the mansion, I’ll join you soon.”

Tommy lit up instantly, and he patted him on the shoulder with a slightly cold hand. “Yeah, we can do that! Just don’t make us wait too long, otherwise I’ll kick your ass.”

“Like you could. I’ll kick your ass any day.” Tubbo chuckled as he opened his inventory, and they both knew he was right. He pulled out a spare cloak, lined with fur, and held it out to the other. “And take this. You’re gonna freeze to death one of these days, if you keep turning up in summer clothes.”

Puffy nodded in approval, but Tommy wasn’t as outwardly appreciative as he accepted the cloak with a whine. “Oh, but I hate wearing shit like this over my wings, it’s uncomfortable . Plus I can’t fly if I wear it, and you know I always come over here by flying, short distance and all.” 

Tubbo sighed dramatically, contrasting his casual shrug and impish smile. “Listen, dude, it’s your first life, not mine. I don’t care if you lose it to something stupid like hypothermia or not, I’m just trying to help you avoid it.”

Tommy grumbled further complaints, even as he wriggled into the cloak. “Yeah, I get it, but it’s annoying. I don’t get how you deal with living here when you’ve gotta wear such heavy clothes all the time.”

“Just suck it up, basically. It’s really not that bad.” Tubbo said cheerfully as his wings twitched comfortably from where they were folded under his own cloak, giggling at Tommy’s resulting glare. He made a shooing gesture with his hands, before landing his hands on Tommy’s shoulders and pushing him in the direction of the mansion. “Go on, I thought you had shit to do!”

“Look, Dream’s the one who's insisting we move quickly, not me. Man’s in a rush, for some reason.” Tommy huffed out a laugh as he set off again, shaking his head as he turned to glance at something that wasn’t there. “Well, you are, aren’t you?” He taunted, which was apparently a good enough response to prompt a snort from Jack, before he flashed Tubbo a final grin. “Anyway, see you there, Tubzo!”

“Yep!” He watched Tommy amble down the snow-cleared path, waiting until he disappeared from view around the corner of some houses before turning to Puffy and Jack with a long exhale, looking at them expectantly. “So I’m guessing he isn’t just fucking with me and there is a ghost he’s helping out.”

“No, yeah, there was definitely a ghost following him around.” Puffy said reluctantly, tentatively, like she couldn’t quite process it herself. Her gaze lingered for a moment longer on where Tommy was last, eyebrows furrowed with unsettled worry that didn’t do much to inspire confidence in Tubbo.

“But… I can’t see him.” Tubbo added, even though that was obvious by now. He let out a hum, not trying to deny the fact that this turn of events definitely intrigued him, in the same way any strange circumstance would. “That’s weird. I’ve never been unable to see one of you lot before.”

Jack scoffed, a warm sound that contrasted with his similarly uneasy expression. “Yeah, I know that, Tubbo. If you missed the memo, I’ve been following you around since you were a baby.”

“Sounds kinda weird when you put it like that.” 

“You know what I mean!” Jack was quick to defend himself, which only prompted a bark of laughter from Tubbo, who cracked a cheeky smile in response. “I know you. I know you more than you know yourself, kind of.”

“Okay, but who cares about the fact that I can’t see him.” Tubbo waved a dismissive hand, tail flicking as he moved to pull up another carrot. It wasn’t necessary since he had harvested enough to fill today’s quota, but he thought that if he was here talking, he might as well. 

“We care, because it’s a weirdly specific exception, isn’t it?” Puffy sounded concerned, and just a smidge exasperated, as Tubbo grasped another carrot’s stem and wriggled it out with practised ease. “I mean, you said it yourself. You’ve never had trouble seeing a ghost before. Why would it start happening now, and why would that be the only one Tommy can see?”

Jack narrowed his eyes, considering and accusatory. “Yeah, especially since it’s him , specifically-”

“See, that’s something I care more about!” Tubbo straightened up suddenly, sending three more unearthed carrots to his inventory to free his hands and jab his finger in Jack’s direction. “The two of you have been acting off since Tommy arrived! You know that ghost, don’t you? Dream or whatever his name was.”

There was a pregnant pause as Puffy and Jack exchanged glances, but Jack ultimately gave it away with a sharp, unnecessary inhale through his teeth. He clapped his hands together, pressing them to his lips as he slumped back into the air. “Well- okay, I don’t really see why you need to...know that.”

“Because I want to know the beef!" Tubbo threw his hands up, his words coming out vaguely offended. "With the way you guys were acting, there’s no way there isn’t beef, and it’d be nice to know what Tommy is getting us into.”

Puffy sighed, looking to the side with a pained look in her eyes as she brushed her hair out of her face. Again, all this reluctance to fucking tell him what was going on was only making Tubbo’s nervousness climb. “He’s- we did know Dream, during our lives. And he wasn't exactly a good person when he was alive."

Tubbo nodded slowly, placing one hand on his waist. That wasn't enough to worry him too much - while he didn't ask the ghosts he met for their tragic backstories, the general consensus was that plenty of them did bad things in their life that they eventually regretted. "Well, do you think he's changed since then? You know, for the better?"

The way the ghosts cringed was more of an answer than any words could be, and Tubbo frowned, quickly moving on. "Okay, so this ghost is a piece of shit, according to you guys. But what does he want?"

"A book, apparently." Jack shrugged with a grimace, sarcasm heavy on his tongue. "Hell if I know why. I can't imagine how a book can help him when he's dead like the rest of us."

"The only way we'll know for sure is if we piece it together ourselves." Puffy pointed out as her pain gave way to concentration, moving back to Tubbo's side. "Dream isn't gonna be upfront, especially not with us. It'll probably be best to keep an eye on him for now."

"Sure, keep an eye on him when I can't even see him, easy." Tubbo quipped with a half smile, though he understood where Puffy was coming from. 

"Yeah, but we can see him just fine." Jack laughed, edged with bitterness as he folded his arms tightly over his chest. "I wish I couldn't. I had enough of that guy a couple hundred years ago when he kicked the bucket."

Puffy smiled, playfulness slowly bleeding back into her tone. "At least it's something to do though, right? I thought you were complaining about boredom the other week."

"Well, I'm not complaining anymore!"

Tubbo snickered under his breath as he made his way out of the carrot farm, once again cleaning dirt off his hands as he went. "I'm gonna go and keep an eye on this ghost I can't see. I don't want to keep Tommy waiting too long, or he might do something stupid. Wanna come with?"

"I'll stay in the vicinity, but since Dream can see us, I won't be too close." Puffy offered, but it was obvious she wasn't happy with the fact. "I don't want to risk scaring him away or something."

"Prime, I wish the bastard was scared of us." Jack let his arms loosen, as he gave Tubbo a smile that was an echo of reassurance. "I'll stick around too, probably. Got nothing better to do, have I?"

"No, I don't think you do. You wouldn't have followed me around my entire life if you did." Tubbo said with a hint of mirth as he set off with a quick pace. He drowned out Jack's noises of protest as he followed the same path he had sent Tommy down, cutting through the middle of the village as the quickest route to the mansion, and glanced back to make sure the ghosts were trailing after him. "Chop chop, then!"

Snowchester was a collection of villages in the north east, nestled within the spruce trees of a land that always snowed. Despite the cold environment, most people would tell you that it was the most welcoming, homely country you could come across. There was a togetherness among the villagers that was unique to Snowchester, with its cosy spruce and stone cabins, and its furs and stews and winter treats. 

Tommy had been integrated into this togetherness over the years, even though he didn’t live in Snowchester himself. He had been a regular visitor since he made friends with Tubbo as a kid, and he knew the name of every person that lived in Foundland, the village port that Tubbo lived in and connected Snowchester to the rest of the world. It was nice to be regarded with as much warm familiarity as everyone else, and Tommy always thrived on the social aspect of wandering around the village and exchanging greetings and snippets of conversation with everyone he came across. 

The point was, he thought the atmosphere was mostly pleasant around here, and the conversation they just had went well, so he really couldn’t understand why Dream seemed to be lagging behind him. He couldn’t see what there was to be upset about, since everything was going his way and they were going to look for his precious book, so naturally he decided to voice that.

“What are you moping for?” Tommy called across the village square, and while he took a cursory glance to make sure nobody would see him yelling at thin air, he wouldn’t have stopped himself if there was. Here, at least, people tended to accept any odd behaviour as long as it appeared safe enough. 

Dream scoffed with traces of laughter, but quickly sped up to arrive at Tommy’s side. “I’m not moping.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes, looking the ghost up and down as he mulled over this claim. “No, you are. You’re slower than normal.” He declared, leaning forward as he wondered what Dream could possibly be upset over. After a moment, an idea clicked. “Is it because you’re the only one Tubbo can’t see? I guess it would suck if you couldn’t talk to him when all your spooky brethren can, it would definitely make me feel special in the shitty way.”

“What?” Dream sounded baffled, for some reason, shaking his head firmly. “No, why would I care about that? I prefer that, actually.”

Tommy couldn’t understand where he was coming from, and he was sure it showed on his face as his eyebrows pinched together. “You prefer not to be seen? Wait, do you really not? Because if you want me to pretend I can’t see you or something-”

“No, no, I’m fine with you seeing me. Tubbo just,” Dream grimaced, turning his head to the side as he brought a hand up to rub his throat, “he, uh, reminds me of someone I knew when I was alive.”

“Ohhh. Okay, well, to be clear, Tubbo's cool so don't worry about him, yeah?” Tommy had heard enough of Tubbo’s ghost stories to know that their lives were often sensitive and deeply personal subjects for the dead, which made sense. He chuckled lightly, deciding to leave it be. “But if you weren’t jealous of Tubbo not being able to see you, then why were you moping?”

“I wasn’t moping , I was looking around.” Dream corrected, and as if to prove his point, he drifted over to get a closer look at a nearby tower, a crow carved out of spruce wood sat on its roof. “The last time I heard of this place, it only had two citizens.”

“Seriously?" Tommy was once again struck by how old Dream must be, if Snowchester was created during his life. He shook it off, hurrying over to catch up with him. “Well, it’s got much more than that now, obviously. This isn’t even the biggest village, just wait ‘til you see Sweetwick.” Dream hummed, but he wasn’t sure how much he was actually listening as he still seemed more focused on the building, so Tommy changed tactics with a huff. “Yeah, that’s the corvila, well done for noticing.”

“Corvila?”

Dream turned to look at him, and Tommy took that as his cue to start walking again. The ghost followed close behind as he led them out of the square and navigated around the cabins. “Come on, you’ve gotta know what a corvila is!” Tommy insisted, convinced that he must have had something similar during his life. “The place for worship for Lady Death?”

“Lady Death.” Dream muttered to himself, and Tommy wasn’t sure what that tone was meant to mean. He could, however, recognise the disdain in his following words. “For a place of worship, it’s pretty small.”

“Yeah, because that’s just the entrance, innit? The actual corvila is underground, like one of those ant colonies with the tiny anthill and loads of tunnels underneath.” Tommy mumbled, quieting down for a moment to exchange greetings with an old man as he passed him, before adding with a breathless laugh. “You’re not Zamortan, I’m guessing?”

Dream was quiet for a long moment, before replying in a way that didn’t sound pleased nor proud. “My family was devoted to Exdii.” 

“Thought so!” Tommy said smugly, even though the idea hadn’t actually dawned on him until right that second, when he thought of the Great Protector while staring at his silly smiling mask. “Your mask kinda looks like him. The way he’s depicted in the paintings and shit, at least.”

“My family was devoted, I was not. I don’t need a god.” 

“Why do you look so much like him, then?” He meant it as a joke, obviously, but Dream ignored him entirely as he brushed past him, rising in the air. Tommy had half a mind to follow him, but quickly remembered he was grounded while wearing the cloak. 

“That’s the mansion we’re going to, right?” Dream asked, pointing out the large building that peeked out over the roofs of the remaining cabins in their path. Tommy wanted to continue badgering him on his religious beliefs, but he also didn’t want to piss Dream off too much when he was meant to be helping him, so he conceded with the question.

“Yeah, that’s the one. The Underscore-Beloved Mansion.” Tommy nodded, and a part of him was slightly proud of the fact that he knew all this stuff to teach the ghost. Dream repeated the name a few times quietly, as if confused, but didn’t have any actual comments so he continued. “It’s an important one, it is.”

“I’d imagine it is, with a building that big.” Dream chuckled, though he moved noticeably faster, causing Tommy to quicken his pace to keep up. Clearly, idle conversation wasn’t enough to tame his impatience.

Tommy smirked to himself, glancing at the other out of the corner of his eye as he raised his eyebrows. “Ah, so size matters. I see how it is.”

“Oh, shut up." He sounded amused as he swatted in Tommy’s direction, his hand phasing through him. Tommy shuddered at the feeling, not enjoying the sensation but assuming Dream meant no harm, since there was no way for him to know contact would feel that strange. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, Dream’s voice dropped into something more serious. “I’m guessing whoever lives there is the authority around here? The president or king or...whatever.”

“Nah, it’s just the representative family. Presidents and kings belong to the other countries.” Tommy almost laughed at the prospect - he couldn’t imagine the citizens would take kindly to a president or king either. “Snowchester doesn’t care much for politics, I don’t think, the family just relays decisions or offers to other countries on behalf of everyone. I don’t know, you’d have to ask Tubbo for that. Or I’d have to ask Tubbo on your behalf, since you’re a weird one he can’t see.”

“No, don’t bother.” Dream sighed just as the two arrived in front of the mansion. There was a relatively large plot of land in between the mansion and the rest of the village, but the snow that lay there was murky with boot tracks leading both in and out of the building. The heavy spruce doors were firmly closed, obvious even from a distance, and Tommy wasted on time in marching towards it. The walk through the village was enough for the cold to start getting to him, even with his borrowed cloak, and he was looking forward to the warmth of being inside a building. 

Dream was silent again, probably taking in the mansion, though he didn’t fall behind again as Tommy arrived at the doors, not bothering to knock as he pushed one open. He mumbled some curses as he leaned his shoulder against the wood to add more force, because he never understood why they made these doors so stupidly difficult to open, but managed to step inside. He sighed happily as warmth rushed to meet him, not bothering to hold the door open for Dream and watching him promptly phase through the door after him.

Dream made a noise of contemplative surprise, and Tommy swept his gaze around the interior of the mansion, quickly landing on a relatively small enderman hybrid running around the corner of one of the upper corridors, wrapped in comfy plaid clothes. “Who was that?” 

“Shut the fuck up, Dream.” Tommy shot back, not because he really needed to be quiet, but because he found Dream’s responding aura of displeasure funny. That, and he didn’t want to fall into the rabbit hole of explaining the entire Underscore-Beloved lineage, partly because he had no damn clue of it outside of the members that were currently alive. 

As if on cue, a silvery voice called from the corridor the girl had disappeared down, along with approaching footsteps. “Starta, slow down, you’re going to hurt yourself!”

Starta, the ender girl, ran back into view, pointing expectantly at Tommy. A duck hybrid appeared a moment later, with white hair and feathers and a vaguely concerned expression that melted into a welcoming smile once he noticed what his daughter was pointing at. “Oh, I see. Hello, Tommy.”

“Ayup, Benson!” Tommy grinned unabashedly, placing his hands on his hips. Dream had come to hover in the corner of his eye, watching the exchange with a strange amount of focus. “I was thinking about looking through the books in the archives - with Tubbo, he’s gonna turn up eventually - that’s cool with you, yeah?”

Starta chirped in the back of her throat, her lavender particles sparking as her figure flickered before disappearing entirely. She reappeared behind Benson, pressing into his back with a mumble of ‘Papa’, prompting a gentle chuckle from him. “Tommy, you know the answer already, you don’t need to ask.”

“Yeah, but since you were here, I might as well be polite.” Tommy replied mockingly, and Dream snorted softly at that, almost disbelievingly.

“Polite, yeah.” Benson mused back, sounding equally disbelieving as Dream, which Tommy didn’t appreciate, because he was obviously the most trustworthy person ever, except for when he wasn’t. He pouted slightly, which Benson must have noticed, because he suddenly grinned. “As long as you don’t destroy the archives, it’s free for anyone to see. And I’m sure you’d never do anything like that, would you?”

“No, sir, I’d never.” Tommy drawled sarcastically, smirking as he rocked back on the balls of his feet, folding his arms behind his back as he crossed his fingers. Dream huffed quietly, though Tommy couldn’t imagine why, because he was obviously being entertaining. It’s not like he was actually gonna trash this archive.

Benson, at least, seemed to appreciate his disingenuous theatrics, as he let out a high laugh. “Good, good. Well, have fun down there. We have more books down there than anything else, so you might be there for a little while.”

Tommy nodded, having expected about as much, but was distracted from a response when the door groaned behind him. He moved further into the hall, turning around to find Tubbo slipping inside with that goofy smile of his. “Hey, Benson!” He leaned to the side, squinting at Starta and waving at her, which earned him a few giggles. “And you too, Starry!” 

“Tubbo.” The man sighed with exasperated fondness, which was enough to draw a snicker from Tubbo as he made a beeline to Tommy’s side. Dream tensed, immediately drifting to his other side. “Again, no destroying the archives and we’ll be good.”

“No promises!” Tubbo beamed as he grabbed Tommy’s arm and began to drag him to the stairs that lead down to the archives, wings buzzing playfully. Tommy grunted in protest as he stumbled over his own feet, not prepared to suddenly be moved as he quickly lifted his tail to avoid tripping over it. 

“Holy Pri- Tubbo, we’re not in that much of a fucking rush!” Tommy complained, catching his footing and speedwalking to match his pace. Dream, at least, seemed to appreciate the hurry, sticking close to the two of them as they began to descend the stairs. 

“I wouldn’t say that, Tommy." He chided, but Tommy could hear the smile in his voice as Tubbo let go of him to turn on the lights before they ventured into complete darkness. “The sooner I get that book back, the better.”

Well, at least he had stopped sulking.

Sam phased in and out of houses as he rushed through Snowchester, frantically trying to find the others. It was slightly jarring, to feel responsible for something again after years of being condemned to useless watching, but he couldn't focus on that now.

He caught up with them just as Tubbo arrived at the mansion's doorstep, Puffy and Jack lingering nearby. "There you are!" Sam rushed forward as the three turned to him with various degrees of surprise at his appearance. That was fair enough - Sam didn't haunt Snowchester often, preferring the Esempii lands out of familiarity.

Tubbo smiled at him, nodding in acknowledgement before pushing the door open and stepping inside. Sam went to stop him, but was stopped by Puffy, who placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "He's going to meet up with Tommy." She explained as Jack floated over to them.

"And Dream." Sam hissed through a lump in his throat, and a part of him was hesitant to admit that truth, but there wasn't any hiding it. After so long, he had turned up once again. 

Puffy gave him a sad smile, but Jack was the one who replied with a grumble, folding his arms. "Yeah, and Dream. We already noticed that when Tommy turned up with the fucker on his tail. We've talked about it." Jack reached up to push his red and blue glasses up with a sigh, propping them against the top of his head to reveal tired eyes.

"So what do you think?"