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What am I doing here?
He had always hated the arctic. Even when he had lived with Technoblade after exile he had hated it. It was always just so cold. There was always some sort of breeze or wind that would nip at your skin. That same breeze had already numbed Tommy’s nose and ears as he sat on the stairs of Techno’s cabin, staring at a rock the size of his foot that was slowly being covered by the snowflakes that fell from the night sky.
Even outside, he could still hear the commotion from inside the cabin. He could hear Wilbur and Techno’s mutterings. He could hear Phil’s reassuring words, like he was calming an animal.
He could still hear Dream’s sobs.
It had been quite the rude awakening. One moment he was dreaming of flying pigs, the next he was jumping to the sound of distant screaming.
Why haven’t I left yet?
He and Wilbur had been sleeping in Philza’s cabin that was directly next to Techno’s, where Techno and Dream were. Even though they were in different cabins, the screaming was enough to wake everyone up. Techno had burst into the cabin, shouting for Phil’s help. That led them all into his cabin, where Dream was shaking on the floor, blankets strewn about the couch.
Tommy sniffed against the cold, wrapping his arms around himself for some warmth. It was quieter, now. Apparently, Phil had gotten Dream to calm down. The thought was strange; That Dream needed to be calmed down like a child. Tommy was still reeling from the fact that Dream was out of Pandora’s Vault, that he was hiding at Techno’s.
He was still reeling from the fact that he hadn’t killed Dream yet.
That’s what he’s been planning on doing, right? That’s why Wilbur told him not to bring any weapons when he showed up at his home, vaguely saying that ‘they needed to pay Phil a visit’ and that ‘someone needed their help’. Wilbur knew that Tommy wanted to kill Dream.
And why shouldn’t he? Dream was a terrible person.
He was practically evil.
So why hadn’t Tommy slit his throat yet?
He looked pathetic, that’s why. Tommy told himself, still staring at the rock. (It was about half-covered now.) And it was true. When he and Wilbur arrived at Techno’s, and Phil had opened the door only to reveal Dream of all people sitting on the couch holding a steaming bowl of soup, Tommy could only stare in shock.
Because Dream didn’t look like Dream. He didn’t have his mask on, (although Tommy had seen it sitting on the couch beside him,) which gave everyone a clear view of the scars covering his face, the paleness of his skin, and the way his cheeks were sunken in from a lack of food. He didn’t look like the man from exile, or the man that had killed- or the man from the prison. At least then he had his mask on.
Tommy was interrupted from his brooding by the tell-tale sound of the door creaking open. He glanced over his shoulder, expecting Wilbur there to tell him to come inside due to the cold, but what he saw instead made him spring to his feet.
It was Dream.
He was wearing one of Techno’s famous red fur-lined cloaks, covering the simple white shirt and brown trousers that he wore, (also courtesy of Techno). His mask was in one hand, while the other closed the door behind him. He looked like a mess. His hair was askew, and his eyes were red-rimmed. He was still pale. He still looked half-starved.
That’s probably what I looked like after exile. Tommy mused. I probably looked just as pitiful. The thought didn’t bring him much comfort.
The two stared at each other in silence for a while, the only sound being Phil, Wilbur and Techno’s voices from inside the cabin, muffled by the walls. That was until Dream cleared his throat.
“It’s cold.” He said, and that broke the tentative quiet.
“Why are you here?” Tommy asked, glowering at the man before him.
Dream hesitated, holding his mask with both hands. He looked uncertain. Seeing the emotion on his face was beginning to annoy Tommy. Before, all he had seen from the man was the cold, merciless smile, etched onto fine, white porcelain. Now he could see every flicker of anger, sadness, and happiness in his eyes. He was practically an open book.
“Listen,” Dream began, his eyes falling to the ground, “I just want to talk. It’s… been a while since we’ve done that.”
“That’s because the last time we ‘talked’ you beat me to death.” Tommy retorted, using air quotes at the word ‘talked’.
Dream brought his eyes back to Tommy. “That was to prove a point.”
“Prove a point?” Tommy repeated, incredulous. “What do you mean prove a point? You beat me to death! I was trapped with you and you-” He cut himself off, sucking in a sharp breath. He could feel his heart beginning to quicken within his chest, and he forced himself to exhale slowly. He didn’t want to spiral into a panic, not when Dream was right there .
“You weren’t listening to me.” Dream countered, and Tommy noticed the way his grip on his mask tightened. “You didn’t believe me when I said I could revive people, so I had to show you. It’s not my fault you never listen!” His voice raised towards the end, and Tommy had to force himself not to flinch.
His fingers curled into fists. He spat out a curse, to which he saw clear anger flash in Dream’s eyes.
“Even now! You aren’t listening!” The man cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “What’s it going to take to get you to learn, huh? It’s been ages Tommy! I’ve been stuck in that cursed prison for ages and all you want to do is ramble on and on about how horrible your life has been.”
Tommy felt his face heat up in anger. “That’s because it has been horrible! All thanks to you, you stupid mother-”
“Do you know what it was like in that prison, Tommy?” Dream cut him off. His hands were beginning to shake, which in turn made his mask tremble ever so slightly in his grip.
“I know what it’s like to die, and that-”
“I was tortured for Prime’s sake, Tommy! By Quackity!” Dream shouted, yet again interrupting him. His eyes burned with a kind of emotion Tommy was all too familiar with. Panic. Fear. He had seen it in his own dull blue eyes in the water’s reflection at exile, in the reflection of all of the windows he now passed.
Dream continued his rant, and that primal fear in his eyes silenced Tommy completely. “Everyday, every single day he would come with some sort of tool or-or weapon and he would be smiling. He would be smiling and he would- he-” Dream’s voice was shaking. Tommy had never heard it shake before. It was always cold. Collected.
Put your armor in the hole, Tommy.
It sounded nothing like that now.
The raw emotion being displayed from the man that Tommy had only viewed as a detachable monster made him uncomfortable. He hated it. So when Dream’s words trailed away in shaking breaths, he muttered. “Could you put your mask on please?”
There was silence for a moment. Dream glanced down at his mask, relaxing his grip as if he had just noticed how tight he was squeezing the thing. When he looked back up, some of the panic had drained from his eyes. “Why?”
Tommy shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve never seen you without it. I’ve never seen your face before.”
“Oh.” Dream blinked, surprised. He began to bring the mask to his face, before stopping. “Do you… do you know why I’ve never let people see my face before?”
Tommy shook his head, gripping his arm with the opposite hand.
Dream lowered the mask. “Before… the prison, I never showed anyone my face. I think I showed Sapnap, once, but after… Well, once… everything happened I never showed him again. I-I wear this because I don’t- I don’t want people to know what I’m feeling. What I’m thinking.”
“So why are you telling me this?”
With a sigh, Dream walked forward, and Tommy stumbled back out into the snow, keeping a fair distance between them as Dream sat down on the top stair. “I was in the prison for so long that I guess I don’t feel the urge to hide my face anymore.” He seemed to slump, as if all of his energy had suddenly left him. “I… don’t really have the urge for anything, now. I thought that once I left the- the prison I would feel something, and I did, for a while, but now I… don’t.”
The strange emptiness that now filled Dream’s eyes and voice threw Tommy off. Before, he had seemed so confident that the lack of emotion seemed wrong. It wasn’t the same lack of emotion that he had claimed to have before, where he preached about the weakness of attachments while saying he had none, it was a lack of… life .
Tommy knew what that felt like. He had stared at lava countless times to have the feeling practically ingrained into his brain. Sometimes he still felt that way.
“Don’t say that.” The words were out of Tommy’s mouth before he could stop them. “You shouldn’t say that.”
“Why not?” Dream asked, staring right at Tommy with those dull, dull eyes. Tommy hated them. They seemed even more lifeless than the black dots of his mask.
Tommy kept his mouth firmly shut. He wanted Dream dead, right? But now it just seemed so wrong. It felt like kicking a dog with a broken leg, just to put it out of its misery. It seemed… immoral. But he shouldn’t be feeling this way towards Dream , right? Dream was evil. Yeah. Dream was a monster. Dream deserved to die.
“I don’t know. Forget I said that.” Tommy said, folding his arms. “I’m not going to spill out my heart to you, like what you’ve just done.”
Dream frowned ever so slightly, and he stood, looking down on Tommy from the top of the stairs. The emptiness was still there, but it seemed to be thinly covered by a veil, now. “You should come inside soon. It’s cold.” He said monotonously, bringing the mask to his face and tying the leather straps around his head.
He turned towards the door, reaching for the handle. “Wait-” Tommy blurted before he could pull the door open. Dream’s hand hovered for a moment before falling to his side. He tilted his head, waiting for him to continue.
“What… What were you dreaming about?” He asked, keeping his eyes trained on the porch steps. He didn’t want to look at the mask just yet, because once he did, Dream wasn’t going to be human anymore. He would just be Dream, because as much as Tommy hated seeing his emotions, he hated the alternative even more.
Dream was quiet. Tommy shifted his weight, glancing at the rock that he had been staring at before. It was gone, completely covered by a thin sheet of snow.
“You should come inside. It’s cold.” Dream murmured again. Tommy’s head snapped up, catching sight of Dream slipping inside before the door closed behind him with a soft thump .