Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Just say you hate me.”

“He never cared.”

“Just leave him.”

“He’s not worth it.”

    All of the words they’d said bounced around in his head like marbles shaken over a staircase. Clattering loudly and pulling his attention away from everything else around him. Why didn’t they understand? Why did they not believe him when it used to be the three of them against the world?

    Dream didn’t know how exactly he’d ended up in the middle of the woods. He didn’t know when he’d gotten past the river that marked the outer territory of the explored land. At some point he’d taken off his armor. Needing to feel the way the air felt around him. Needing to feel light again instead of the all encompassing weight that was filling him to his very core. He needed to be able to run, to move. Maybe if he ran then he could pretend it was a manhunt. That their cruel words were just part of the game. That they would come after him. That they still cared.  

    How didn’t they see he was doing this all to protect them. How did George not see he took the crown because it made George nothing but a target. How did they miss that he just wanted to protect them? How did they fail to see that every act against L’Manberg and Tommy was because of what Tommy had done to them. He ordered Tommy’s trial because Tommy destroyed George’s house. How do they accuse him of not caring when he’d felt his heart stop seeing the rubble. How do they accuse him of not loving them when he’d ravaged the lands to make sure they were safe. How do they say he’s a monster when he’s the one that cares and dotes over every living thing they meet. Dream was never the one that killed pets for fun. Dream was never the one who executed others because of minor issues. Dream was never the one who shut off his emotions. It’s why he had the mask. They knew. They knew that was why he wore it. Not to be a monster but to protect himself because he felt too much. 

    Sure he’d yelled some things to Tommy about not caring but that was because Tommy took everything he loved and used it against him. That was how the server worked more often than not. Every attachment was a weakness. Every link was something to exploit. It was why George had been attacked. Why tensions were so high all the time. Why Spirit hadn’t been allowed to rest in peace. Why Sapnap had gone after Henry. Why Tommy needed to use Beckerson. Why all of it was such a mess.

    Sure he yelled that but didn’t all of them yell things they didn’t mean in the middle of an argument. Wasn’t that something that all of them were guilty of? It couldn’t just be him. It just couldn’t. All of them had done it. Sapnap had once yelled after a bad spar that he hoped Dream would get stabbed just so he knew he wasn’t impossible to beat. George had once told him that he hoped he fell down a ravine when they’d fought about iron during one of their challenges. They’d all said things they didn’t mean. So why was he the only one that they thought meant it. 

    What had he done so wrong that they turned on him so? Why did they trust the words of the people that hated him instead of him himself? Why did they go to others to clarify his thought process? 

    He didn’t notice when the sun went down. Didn’t notice when the sounds of mobs drew steadily closer. He didn’t notice when he’d found a cliff face. 

    He only realized when an arrow punctured his shoulder and threw him to the side instead of forward. Maybe he should have thanked the hostile mob. Maybe he should have been paying more attention. Just a couple more steps and he would have likely fallen to his death. It took a couple blinks to really process what he was looking at, to realize where he was and what he’d nearly done. To see fully what his situation was. He needed to get away. But the sound of a zombie behind him halted that thought in its track. Turning slowly he saw the group of mobs that he’d attracted through his walk in the woods. There were so many more out here. No lights to deter them from their spawning grounds and nothing to stop them from moving about. The tree coverage gave them enough shade in the daylight to not burn and more only came. Honestly how he hadn’t been hit until now was beyond him.

    Another arrow swishing past him brought him back to the present. His scattered mind racing trying to find a way out of this. He’d imagined it was a manhunt right? He could do this. He’s been in worse situations. He’s ridden ghasts, fought more dragons than he can count. He’s been hunted by so many and survived with almost nothing. He could do this. 

    But then he thought about the manhunts that went wrong. He thought about the times that he got surrounded by mobs and the times that he didn’t really remember. He just knew what had happened from the stories Sapnap, George, and Bad would tell him when he woke up. He remembered a manhunt that he’d gotten surrounded like this. More mobs than he could count and he hadn’t even found iron yet. His stone axe had broken half way through the fight and he was just left with a stone pick. He’d done his best. But it had still been the first time he’d had to call off a manhunt. Emergency flare firing into the air and the hunters racing to him as fast as possible only to find him on the ground in a pool of blood surrounded by monsters. 

    There was no emergency flare this time. There was no rescue coming. There was no saving him. He had to do this alone. Because wasn’t he always anymore. He was always alone. And he’d done it himself. 

    He was fast. He was a world renowned speedrunner. He was lethal even without any weapons or armor. He was the only one who could hold a candle to the Blood God himself. He was the rival of a god and he would win. He was respected as a great fighter and a skilled player. He could do this. He could handle mobs. He could handle being stranded. He could do this. 

    One breath. In.

    Focus. Take in their positions. The amount of hits he’d need to take them down. Count the threats.

    Two breaths. Out.

    Three skeletons on the left, four on the right, one in the middle. Ten zombies spread around the group. Six spiders. A witch lurking in the tree line. No creepers. Not yet. That was good. 

    Three breaths. In.

    He didn’t have his weapons on him. He didn’t have his armor. All of it was tucked away into the pocket space of his inventory. There wasn’t enough time for him to get any of it out. Running would be the best strategy. He could punch one of the zombies, break through the gap, duck into the trees and escape. 

    His shoulder was starting to feel numb. He couldn’t worry about that. He’s fought with worse. He’s done worse. He’s done more stupid things than this. 

    Four. Breathe. Wait for the opening. Watch how they’re moving. Ignore the others. Focus on the target. Not much longer. Ignore the arrows. Ignore the sounds of bones. Ignore the hiss of the spiders. Ignore the groans of the zombies. Focus. Just watch. Wait. 

    The second the zombies moved into the best position he was running. Launching forward from his spot on the edge of the cliff to shoot towards the mobs boxing him in. If this were to be a competition then one of his friends would have commented about him being boxed like a fish. They hate you now. No one will come. You don’t have friends.  

    His fist slammed into rotten flesh even before the dirt where he’d been standing had settled back down from his speed. He pushed himself through the gap that opened from the punch and propelled further towards the tree line. An arrow slashed through the side of his leg. Another grazed over his arm as the rattle of the skeletons drew quieter and the groans of the zombies turned to face him once more into the trees. He heard the cackle of the witch behind him but he didn’t have the time to think about how close she was. He needed to run. He needed to live. He owed himself that much. 

    A zombie came out of nowhere. He was so focused on the ones behind him that he didn’t hear the groans coming from the right. He didn’t know until the moving corpse was slamming into him. Dirty nails that shifted to claws digging into the flesh on his side and ripping it open easily. He ignored the hot flush that poured over his skin, ignored the burning that he felt from the mark and punched the oozing flesh sack off of him. His hand hurt, his side was pulsing in pain but he didn’t have the time to deal with it. There were more arrows whizzing by his head. Giggles from now more than one witch closing in on him. He heard a shuffle just behind him and whirled just to see the green splotched skin of a creeper. He didn’t have a shield. He didn’t have a chance. So he turned and he ran. Breaths filling his lungs even through the smell of gunpowder being activated and the hissing of a beast about to explode. He managed to get himself away far enough to not take too much pain from the actual explosion but the force still threw him forward a little. Still tossed him off his feet so he didn’t catch himself when he landed. His weight came down on the leg that had been shot and it gave out under him almost immediately. 

    Dream felt his body slam into the ground and felt nauseous instantly. His head cracked against the ground and his vision was blurring and spinning every time he looked up. He needed to go. He needed to run. He had to get out of here. A new surge of adrenaline pushed him to his feet. Pushed him to ignore his pain and injuries and run with every ounce of power his body possessed. Everything around him blurred out again. The only difference from how it had been earlier was this time there were no echoes of his friends. Ex-friends? It was just the burning pain that filled his chest every time he inhaled. The heat that spread through his body and the numb feeling that raced through his veins. 

    Much like when he’d reached the cliff Dream wasn’t sure when he’d found himself in a clearing. He didn’t even know what direction he’d run. Maybe he was closer to the mainlands now. Maybe he was farther. Maybe someone would find him. Maybe no one would look. They’d never look. They don’t care. They think you abandoned them so they abandoned you. Breathing felt like a struggle. His legs felt like they were about to buckle with every step he took. He’d managed to stumble himself into a tree. Resting against the trunk and sliding down it. It wasn’t hard to ignore the grinding pain that came from his ribs. His face felt sticky; he just couldn’t tell why. The mask usually protected him. Had it been damaged?

    With fumbling hands Dream reached to unclasp the buckle that held his safety securely in place. The bone and porcelain falling away easily and revealing tacky blood on its inside. Flipping it over he saw that the mask was fine. Smile staring back up at him innocently as if it hadn’t been the face to so much. He reached next for his face. To see where the damage was and resolutely ignored how his hand shook when he did. His fingers came back red, a flash of pain sparking from the side of his head reminding him that he’d hit it when the creeper blew. 

    The grass around him was already turning red but he didn’t have the energy to get up or do anything about it. His body already felt disconnected from everything else. He almost felt like he was floating honestly. 

    Was he dying? Was this how he met his end? By a group of mobs after he lost everyone he thought he’d always be with? He didn’t want them to think he hated them. He wanted them to know he loved them. That he always had and he always will. He knew they wouldn’t care if he died now but he wanted to give them something still. 

    Blood slicked fingers found his comm in his pocket. Tugging it out and opening the conversation window with both of them took him a little longer. His blurring vision not really being helpful for the task. He tried to get his fingers to type properly but he knew it wasn’t really working. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too mad. Hopefully they’d understand he tried. He just wanted them both to be happy.

You whisper to DreamTeam: im srory

You whisper to DreamTeam: neverr hated you

You whisper to DreamTeam: alwyas lov ed yuo 

    Everything sounded far away. He couldn’t feel his body anymore. Couldn’t feel the heat he knew was pouring out of him. He felt cold. Dizzy. He felt sick. Like that time when he was younger and caught the flu. He wished Sapnap was here. Wished George was there. He wished he was at home in the community house cuddled up safe in bed without anything to worry about. He wished he was safe. Wished he could feel them there with him again. You’ll never feel safe again.

    George and Sapnap had both been together when they got the pings on their comms. They’d seemed angry when they yelled all those things at Dream, they were angry. But they were mostly hurt. Hurt that strangers could see things that they didn’t. Hurt that their person was leaving them. That he hadn’t cared. It was a spiral of emotions left and right and nothing felt real anymore. It had hurt. So they went back to a place they both felt was safe. A place that Dream hadn’t even been to in months. Or at least, they hadn’t seen him there in months. As far as they knew none of them lived in the community house anymore. There was no reason to go through it unless they were just passing by. 

“I don’t hate him.” George confessed. Voice quiet and eyes downcast. 

    Sapnap watched him for a moment, his own shoulders sagging as he let out a breath.

“Neither do I. I just..I wish he’d let us in. I want him to apologize for pushing us away. I want to go back to how it used to be.”

    They’d shared stories. Both of them laughing about how it used to be. Joking about how expressional Dream was before he strapped a mask on and shut them off. They laughed about the times they’d lovingly harass each other. Play fun at the good times the trio had shared. It went until well into the night. Both of them enjoying each other’s company and trying hard to ignore the absence of their missing member. Dream was stubborn. They both knew it. But he had to give them reasons or they were going to see things the way everyone else had. For them it had been real. For them every laugh, every hug, every shoulder pat and late night cuddle was real. But more and more it seemed that for Dream all of it was just an elaborate act to gain pawns.

    And then their comms pinged in unison. 

Dream whispers to DreamTeam: im srory

    Dream almost never outright apologized. 

Dream whispers to DreamTeam: neverr hated you

    Dream doesn’t make typos. He’s too calculating for that.

Dream whispers to DreamTeam: alwyas lov ed yuo 

    Both of them stared at the messages for a moment. Silence stretching out between them as they each processed the words and who they were from. George felt a rock settle into his stomach while reading the messages over and over. There were gaps between them. Gaps too long for Dream’s normal typing speed. He couldn’t help the instinctual fear that rushed through him at the thought that something was wrong.

    Sapnap on the other hand just looked angry. No, not even angry. He looked furious. Steam even seemed to roll off him in tiny whisps. 

“Sapnap?” George tried carefully.

“Is he drunk? What the hell? Why does he think drunk messaging us will do anything?”

    Both of them knew he wasn’t. Dream never drank. He wasn’t a fan of it. Said it slowed him down too much and it scared him. He needed to be able to move. He wasn’t drunk.

“You know he’s not.”

“Well then why else would he message us like this! We’re supposed to be mad at him!”

    There was a clatter above them. Both of them grabbed their weapons and moved up the staircase just to see Sam and Punz shaking themselves out in the shelter. Punz stretching out and glancing over to them and their weapons.

“Hey.” He eyed their slightly frazzled look but opted to ignore it. “If you guys are planning on heading out tonight you should be aware that the mobs are out. There’s lots of them for no reason. It’s so stupid.”

    Sam jumped into the conversation then, rubbing at a spot on his neck.

“Punz almost took off my head when he thought I was a creeper about to blow him up.”

“Yeah yeah whatever. Be lucky you blocked or I would have killed you. Anyways,” He focused his attention back to the two brunettes. “We’ve gotta get back to Sam’s place. Hope to see you guys around.”

    Both Sapnap and George were frozen to their spots. Dream wasn’t drunk. They both knew he wasn’t drunk. He wouldn’t. They didn’t know where he went. They’d turned their backs on him. Left him there alone. No one had seen him since but that was just Dream. If he didn’t want to be found then he wouldn’t be. The mobs were out. Both of them immediately remembered the first time Dream cancelled a manhunt. They remembered finding him out cold on the ground. Remembered how long Bad did surgery on him to close all the wounds. They remembered how scared they’d been.

“Dammit.” 

    George looked over at him just to see more steam coming off of him. The only difference was this time instead of just anger there was fear there too.

“God dammit!”

    Sapnap’s fist hit the center column of the staircase. His hands itching to do more but stopping himself. He gripped the hilt of his sword instead and leveled his gaze back onto George’s goggles. 

“He better have meant that apology. If he’s fucking with us I’m going to kill him.”

“I still have a compass.”

    Dream let all his hunters keep their enchanted compasses. Knowing that he could still evade them if he needed to and trusting his friends to not use them against him. They were the only ones who knew about them so they didn’t count as an issue for him really. Dream was a cocky bastard. But he was smart. Smart and strong and fast and it was what made him such a magnet for everyone else. Sapnap broke his a couple months after their last manhunt. Just playing around with it and managing to drop it down a ravine. The thing had shattered on impact but George was always the most careful of the three of them. It wasn’t a surprise that he still had his. 

    Compass in hand and armor on they set out in the direction of the needle. Both moving at their top speed. Maybe they could pretend it was just another manhunt. Maybe they could pretend like Dream was up ahead of them laughing to himself as he dug out traps. They could pretend that everything was okay. That it was like it used to be before the wars and that they’d finish the hunt and go home together. All lay in a big bed and cuddle through the night. They just had to pretend. It was just another manhunt. Speedrunner vs two hunters. Easy. Dream would never lose here. He’d be okay. He was always okay.

    The thoughts worked like mantras in their heads to keep them running. Right up until they broke into a clearing in the woods. The sun was starting to peak over the horizon in the distance but that only made them push harder to run faster. Right up until the edge of the clearing when the needle of the compass began to turn behind them. At George’s call Sapnap whirled around. Scanning through the shadows of the clearing again and wondering why Dream hadn’t called out to them. If this was some prank to make them come back to his side Sapnap would maul him. He’d make him wish the mobs found him first. He’d-

“Oh god..” George’s horrified tone cut off his musings. But before he could ask about it the archer was already moving. “Dream!”

    Sapnap followed his gaze until he caught sight of a slumped figure hidden in the shadows at the bottom of a tree. A figure that wasn’t moving. A figure that was holding a smile mask. He felt his heart leap into his throat as he ran to his downed brother and nearly threw up at the sight of him. 

    Dream was paler than death. He was covered in dirt, blood caked half his head and poured onto the ground in some gross halo. There was an arrow sticking out of his shoulder, blood coming from other cuts all around him. But by far the worst were the claw marks tearing through his side and stomach like someone had tried to rip him open.

    The smile mask was sitting limply in his lap. His comm weakly cradled in his hand. George was checking his pulse and his breathing. He was in full working mode. No nonsense. No jokes, no humor. Just clinical precision. It was good for situations like this. 

“He’s in shock. He lost too much blood. We need to get him responding.”

    Sapnap was about to say they needed to get him awake before worrying about getting a response but then he looked to Dream’s face and realized why George said what he said. Dream’s eyes were still open. They were half lidded but they were still open. He could see unfocused, dull green staring past them both. Dream didn’t even know they were there. Dream was dying. 

    They worked together to lay him flat on the ground instead of the weird slouched position he’d been in. Once moving him he heard George let out a string of curse words that would have left Bad feeling utterly scandalized and went to ask why when he saw it. Dream’s position had been putting pressure on his wounds. Without it blood was pouring out of him faster than before. He heard a faint whine come from the body beneath him and turned away from his brother’s blood to see his eyes fluttering. If he passed out now there was very little chance he would wake up. 

“Dream? Hey buddy can you hear me?”

    He pulled Dream’s head onto his lap to try to make breathing easier for him. Dream’s eyes were flitting around the area like he didn’t know what was happening. Not a good sign. 

“I need you to stay awake okay? I need you to stay with me, yeah? You’ve gotta tell us you love us again. Without the typos.”

    A raspy whimper came from Dream’s lips, blood bubbling up with it. Sapnap looked over at George with nothing but panic in his eyes. How Dream had even gotten out here would have been a mystery to anyone but them. Dream went for walks or runs when he got overwhelmed or things became too much for him to handle. To get all the way out here he must have panicked. There was only one reason he would have panicked. His messages once again ran through his head. Dream thought they hated him. And what reason did they give him to not think that? They’d turned their backs on him. They’d left him there. They yelled at him instead of talking to him. If Sapnap had pulled his head out of his ass they wouldn’t be here. They wouldn’t have Dream’s blood covering both of them. He watched George pull out health and regen potions. Giving a sympathetic look to Dream before finding Sapnap’s eyes. 

“Hold him still. This will hurt.”

    He nodded and watched George pull out a water bottle and uncork it. 

“We need to clean this first. It looks like a zombie mark. I don’t want to regenerate his body with the germs still inside.”

    The thought of that alone almost made Sapnap sick again but he nodded and carded his fingers through Dream’s hair. His breathing had gone from fast and shallow to slow and shallow. They needed to work faster. He wasn’t going to make it at this rate.

“Dream. This is gonna hurt okay? Just hold on.”

    George poured the water onto the wounds and Dream screamed. Both of them flinched at the sound and Sapnap did his job of holding him as still as he could. Dream was too out of it to really move but that didn’t mean he didn’t try. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you. Just hold on Dream, you’re gonna be okay.”

    Tears were streaming down Dream’s cheeks. He was panting in the exertion of just his body operating. The pain seemed to have shocked him into a little more awareness though, survival instincts taking over and making him push even harder. Sapnap watched him try to form words, eyes flitting around the setting wildly. He just kept telling him it would be okay. It had to be okay. Dream was always okay. This was going to be no different. George uncorked the health pot and began pouring it into the wound a sizzling noise coming as it burned away the bacteria and stitched the worst of it together. Sealing off the worst of the blood flow. 

“Get him to drink the rest. We need any internal damage to be dealt with.”

    Sapnap took the potion without hesitance as George uncapped the regen. Pouring it slowly over the wound to make sure it regenerated from the inside out and didn’t seal the wound closed with the internal damage still open. Sapnap cupped Dream’s face and tried to pull his focus onto him. Green eyes still bouncing from place to place but his strength was failing him again. 

“Buddy I need you to look at me. Just look at me, yeah? You’ve gotta drink this. Doctors orders. I’ll keep you safe. I promise this will be good. Nothing bad.”

    By whatever miracle green eyes locked on coal ones. His expression was hard to read. Clearly not understanding what was happening but it was something. He watched him try to speak again, rasping voice starting to come out before he ended up coughing.

“It’s me. I’m here. Gogy’s here too. We’ve got you. You’re safe. I promise. George is trying to fix you up. We can talk later but right now we need you to drink this okay? You need to drink this and we will take care of everything else. Got it?”

    He placed the potion against Dream’s lips and tilted him up a little so he wouldn’t choke. The regen was doing its job and from experience all of them knew how painful it was. Painful but necessary. Dream drank as much as he could before he started coughing and pulled back, swallowing with a shudder and then gasping for air. Sapnap kept his hand on his neck to try to keep him steady, hoping and praying to anyone that would listen that Dream would survive the trip back.

    Everything was blurry still to Dream. It all still sounded like he was underwater but he could still make out the worry on Sapnap’s face when he saw him. Everything hurt and it wasn’t making sense but Sapnap wouldn’t hurt him, right? Even if they were fighting, even if Sap hated him now he wouldn’t hurt him. They still had that right?

    There was another voice talking to him too. It sounded like George but he couldn’t really keep his eyes open anymore. It hurt too much. Distantly he felt what he thought were hands scooping him up before he landed against a warm thing. He managed to drag his eyes back open long enough to see a white shirt turning red where he touched it. He felt bad. Sapnap liked that shirt. He tried to apologize but his body wouldn’t let out anything more than a light whine. Something squeezed his hand and he allowed himself to close his eyes again. 

    George and Sapnap were there. They came for him. They still cared. He could still fix this. He would be safe with them. So he let himself sleep. He was safe. Sunlight began peaking over the tops of the trees. Sounds of mobs growing more and more distant from the lit patch of the clearing. Dream was happy like this. Being held and feeling warm. For the first time in months he felt safe.