Work Text:
“Hey!"
Dream makes a muffled noise of distress, face down on the couch. Ink closes and locks the door behind himself, keys jingling around his lanyard as he dances into the living room. Dream does not budge, even as Ink sits on his legs.
"What's your damage, huh? The sun's hiding today." Ink wiggles around atop Dream's poor, skinny little legs, and then just lies down on top of him. Dream makes another muffled noise of agony and desolation, his arms folded to cushion his forehead and hide his face. It takes Ink a moment to realize Dream has been crying into the couch.
Ink takes a moment to process how he should probably feel about this. Ink and Dream are friends, so he should feel... confused and worried. Ink injects a reasonable amount of concern into his voice, softening it slightly. "Hey bud, what's up? I can make you some hot cocoa. You wanna talk about it?"
Dream groans and he turns his head as he does so, unleashing the noise from its plush prison and making the volume rise into a crescendo. Ink cannot resist the laugh that bubbles out of his throat, and feels slightly ashamed when Dream sniffles at him with big, bleary, yellow eyes.
When he speaks, Dream's usually soft and smooth voice comes out raspy and low. "I messed up really bad, and I don't know how to fix it."
Sirens are going off distantly in his mind and in the actual residence of their apartment, but Ink tries to ignore the noise. "What happened?" Dream rubs at his eyes and sniffles again, rolling over onto his back. The extended silence tells just the severity of the situation (to Dream.)
Ink leans back and sits on Dream's thighs as the other scoots up a bit to prop his head up onto the couch arm. When he's well-situated, Ink levels his deeply probing, huge eyes onto Dream, who crumbles slowly.
Once his fortress of "keeping Ink from knowing about my silly business" is obliterated, Dream begins to ramble, words jumbling and spilling out from his mouth. His composure is completely abandoned in favor of pouring out the thoughts in his mind.
"You know that guy, the new guy?" Ink doesn't know. He doesn't know anything, but he nods like he does, and Dream's mouth quirks into a small smile. "No you don't, you dummy. I know you don't know him, you got that look in your face."
Ink grins and leans down to Dream a bit, his scarf unraveling around his neck. "Yeah, I don't know shit. Tell me anyway, it won't change anything, right?"
Dream sighs and his smile leaves, making Ink feel... worried. Worried and... sad. Ink recounts the things he's feeling and puts them together, trying to figure out the word for... worried and sad, as Dream speaks. "I don't know, I was just... I was..." His voice quivers a bit, and Dream uses his forearm to cover his eyes as he tries (fails) to steady his voice.
"We were in the library, and I was dropping off my books, and... And you know, you know I really like making friends." Ink makes the appropriate listening noise, shifting around and getting comfortable on top of Dream. he props up his chin on his elbows, like a young girl at a sleepover, except he's lying on his roommate listening to him cry about some guy he met in the library.
"I was just trying to help him out, and he... I just... It's really stupi- it's not stupid, but..." Dream's voice tapers off and he goes silent. Ink lets him think, watching his brow pinch as he thinks.
"No, it's not stupid." Dream affirms to himself. "I just... I feel really embarrassed about it. We were just talking about stupid things that guy who wrote the textbook said, and then... we talked about how Nightmare was my brother, because Nightmare was working a shift at the library today, and then the guy said he wanted to meet Nightmare.... and I was super excited, and... and I was like-" Dream starts to gesticulate wildly and excitedly, mimicking his previous movements.
" Oh man !" Dream mimics his own voice, pitching it higher. Almost mockingly. " That's great, he starts his shift in an hour! "
Ink makes an affirmative noise, nodding his head and gesturing for Dream to go on. Dream sniffles, not crying now, calming down as he explains.
"I was like, 'I'm so glad he's making more friends. It makes me so happy to see that.' There's nothing wrong with saying that, I mean, I could embarrass Night a little, but if he had an issue he'd tell me outright! And he was listening to the conversation, and- and he can talk to me! We’re good, like that!”
Frustration and indignance comes into his voice. Dream begins to talk to the ceiling, occasionally looking down at Ink to make sure he's still on the same page as him. "And so I’m happy Nightmare’s making friends, because I’m his brother, and so I tell him that, and then - then the guy starts fucking, fucking psycho-analyzing me!"
Ink barks out a surprised laugh, his jaw clicking against the fabric of Dream's t-shirt. Dream makes a confused and frustrated noise, bewildered and amused but mostly bewildered, and goes, "I know ! I know, it was insane! I didn't even say that much and he started psycho-analyzing me!"
"What did he say? What'd he say to set you off like this?"
Dream lets out a slow exhale, breathing deep. "Okay, I don't remember everything, but he said - he said something along the lines like 'You're one of those people who needs to feel like they're helpful to be happy', and- and he's not wrong, but that's not- I'm not upset about that!"
Oh, you're totally upset. Ink internally laughs. Outwardly, his eyes just squint in the way they do when he's smiling really big, and he is, and Dream groans though the corners of his mouth twitch up into an instinctive smile in response. "Shut up, I don't even wanna hear it. But the reason why I'm upset is because this dude - this guy- I don't even know him! I don't even know him like that, and he's calling me out on some deep personal shit I haven't got sorted!"
Suddenly, his eyes lock onto Ink's, and Ink feels every bone in his body lock up. He can't look away, and there's a strange twisty sensation in his chest. If he could, he would check his chest out to make sure he hasn't reopened an old scar or something, but he can't seem to budge. Dream is silent for a moment, and Ink can't think of anything else to say either, because he doesn’t know what this emotion is (apprehension? love?) and then Dream continues.
"Do I do that? Do I act like that?"
Ink opens his mouth, then closes it. He replays what Dream was told in the conversation. He furrows a brow in the same fashion Dream did while thinking.
Dream sighs, letting his head thump back onto the arm cushion where he had lifted it to look at Ink better. "Nevermind, don't answer that. I know it's not something you could answer."
Frustration curls and laps at his ribcage, and Ink frowns a little. Dream is about to keep talking, avoiding his eyes, trailing on a blaze, when Ink interrupts. "I could answer that. It'll just take me a moment."
There's a tense moment where neither of them talk again, before Dream apologizes quietly. "That was out of line. Of me. I'm sorry." They don't say anything for a moment as Ink processes it, before Ink just nods and squeezes his hand a little bit. The tension in Dream's shoulder eases, and he squeezes his hand back for a second, relishing in the touch.
Dream slowly continues. "I know I can get really... up in your business. Like, I do that with everyone, but I always try to make sure they let me know if I get too nosy, or maybe if I'm being too... too vigilant, or if I'm... I'm acting weird. But I don't do it to..."
Ink tilts his head a bit as he listens, humming after Dream finishes. "I think..." Ink trails. "You're fine. You're not doing it solely for self-validation, but because you like to help people." Ink squints at the reasoning. Dream looks a tad unsure, himself.
His mouth parts, then closes with a click, as the words that Dream wanted to say are dragged back into the back of his throat. Ink gazes in interest, and Dream presses his mouth into a thin line.
"He... he told me it was kind of selfish." Dream confesses, quietly, and Ink closes his eyes. "To be helping people, because I liked to - because in the end, it was because I liked helping people, you know? It was because it made me feel good."
Ink feels helpless.
He knows that he disagrees, vehemently, but doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to explain, and if he doesn't, if he doesn't say anything, Dream will wilt. So he puts a finger up before Dream can open his mouth with that dejected expression and say something self-deprecating.
"You're allowed to be selfish," Ink eventually finds the words. "And in... being kind of selfish," Ink slowly continues. "You can be kind to others, too."