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Technoblade had taken his cape with him.
Its a few hours after everything had happened that Dream realizes it. He goes to reach for the soft, red fabric that he had been using as a blanket, but it had vanished, much like the man himself.
Despite it all, Dream can't help but feel a little bitter as he curls up against the cold obsidian of his cell, blanketless. He knows Techno will come back for him, he trusts the gentle words whispered to him between soft kisses.
He can hear Techno's voice in his mind, feel his breath against his cheek.
I have a plan, Dream.
I'm going to get us out of here.
I have friends who can help us.
Don't lose hope.
Its hard not to, though. Hard to do anything without Techno there with him.
The cell is unbearably quiet, now. The only thing that disturbs the monotonous silence is the quiet bubbling of lava and the slow drip of the crying obsidian. It would be enough to drive a lesser man insane.
Dream can only pray that he is stronger than he feels.
Drip, drip, drip.
Absently, Dream wishes for the fabric of Techno's red cape to bury his head under, to use the sturdiness of the cloth to block out the incessant noise.
Instead, he covers his ears and closes his eyes, hiding from it like a child.
It's only then, huddled in the corner of his cell, that the loneliness truly begins to seep into his bones. How many hours has it been? It couldn't have been more than four or five, but Dream is already overcome with it.
He's grown weak under Techno's gentle attention. Spoiled.
Deep down, he knows he doesn't deserve it. The gentle kisses, the soft caresses, the kind words.
He is unworthy.
Shivering with the cold, he inches closer to the lava.
Only a little bit, though. He still remembers the look on Techno's face the last time he had gotten too close, the minuscule horror that would flash whenever Dream brushed against the burning, shifting mass, craving warmth.
Remembers how the man would draw him near, hold him against his chest until Dream's shivers had subsided, quelled by Techno's embrace.
But Technoblade isn't here to do that, not anymore.
Instead, Dream draws his knees closer to him and hums quietly, feeling the reverberations in his body as if listening to Techno speak. It helps a little bit, but Dream still feels the ache of loneliness as he yearns for Techno and his stupid cape.
He knows the story of how Techno got it. As a young boy, Techno had been eager to share the tale with anyone who asked, and Dream was one of the (un)lucky few who had the privilege of receiving Techno's full attention.
A gift from a king.
Back when he was young and still competing in tournaments, Techno's skills as a warrior had impressed the king of a nearby kingdom. So much so that the king, right then and there, had stripped himself of his very own cape and gifted it to the prodigious boy in front of him.
It's almost ironic that Technoblade still wears it today. Techno? Donning a king's cloak? How out of character.
Then again, it's unlike Techno to ever waste anything. A good cape is a good cape after all.
A small smile flickers across Dream's features. He pulls a phantom cloth tighter around his shoulders.
Sam and Quackity wouldn't be back for a while, he knows. Quackity because he thinks Dream has escaped and Sam because it's too suspicious for him to visit a supposedly empty cell.
So Dream will truly be alone. For the first time in... in a long time.
How long will Techno take to come and rescue him? How had he left in the first place? Why hadn't he done it earlier?
Dream feels the hand of unease clench at his heart.
Slowly, Dream heaves in long, deep breaths, easing the tightness in his chest. A non-existent hand rubs comforting circles on his back, an imaginary voice whispers words of encouragement in his ear.
It takes a while to plan a prison break, Dream reasons, fists unclenching from the thin material of his uniform, It's not liked Techno can get me out of here in just a few hours. He promised. He's coming.
He's coming.
He's coming.
He's... He's coming.
He glances up at the bell sitting uselessly in the center of the cell. A light nudge with his tone sends the metal swinging back and forth. Long, hollow chimes fill the small room with noise.
His body unfurls, legs stretching outwards, arms falling to his sides, and head lulling backwards against the obsidian.
He stares up at the roof, watches the purple liquid pool in the cracks of the obsidian before its weight drags it downward. It falls, silent, until the impact of it hitting the floor makes a small noise.
He huffs out a single, desperate puff of laughter.
What else is there to do?
He's fiddled with his clothes, he's reminisced over fading memories, he's saddled up against the lava wall (not touching it, never touching it), he's even rung the damn bell. Dream wishes he still had his books, but he used them all up, stuffing every piece of information into the brittle pages as he could. He hopes Techno is putting them to good use, hopes he'd followed his directions, hopes he'd found the blueprints.
Hopes he's planning a rescue.
How had he survived this? How had he lived so many months in solitude?
How had he ever existed with Techno's stable presence nearby, effectively grounding him to the present?
The silence is overwhelming, somehow. It surrounds him, suffocates him. Still, he can't bear to ring the bell again, to have the image of Techno's smug smile reflected in his mind.
So, he sits in his pressurized silence, head too full and too empty. Thinking of everything and nothing all at once.
This is when the alarms start to ring.