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Bad heard screaming coming from the main cell again. It's been going on for days now.
The sound was muffled by the lava and walls of the prison, but Bad was sure that those were screams, he wasn't imagining them and he heard them often, at least once every day after visitation hours were over. Screams of violent pain, raw and rough coupled with shouting from… Another person. Who that other person was, he didn't know and he couldn't tell who that voice belonged to, too drowned out by the incoherent screeching of the prisoner.
Every time Bad tried to intervene or tried to check on Dream and why he was screaming out in pain, Sam would cut him off before he was able to; would tell him that everything was fine. Would tell him that Dream was just pretending. It was just for attention, to make people feel bad for him. Told Bad that he was just too empathetic and to not fall for the prisoner's mind games. To ignore Dream's attempts at manipulating him. Told him that he tried the same thing when he burned his clocks back then.
Every time Sam told him that he'd deal with Dream himself, Bad always noticed the potions of weakness that Sam carried with him. The Warden simply told him to go back, that it would be fine, told him to wait somewhere else in the prison, away from the cell. Told him that Dream would certainly listen more if he showed up in the cell rather than Bad. And when Sam came back to him after a good chunk of time, the prison was deadly silent. Sam was obviously drugging Dream to keep him quiet - but only when Bad pointed out Dream's noise and tried to intervene.
The times Bad was not able to intervene but had to let the animalistic screams continue behind the walls, he started to notice that the screaming never abruptly stopped after a while. He noticed how Dream would only scream at a certain time of the night as well, never at any other hour of the day. Bad knew Sam wasn't checking on Dream normally. The Warden was only checking on and quieting the prisoner down if Bad pointed the pained screeching out, and this fact unnerved him.
Bad never told Sam of his feelings or suspicions. Something was stopping him, like a mental barricade. Was it fear? Sam was an authority not to be messed with. Bad couldn't tell Sam what he was feeling for Dream, either. He felt awful for the prisoner; whatever was happening to him, it must be hurting him a lot.
That one night, he heard the screams again and decided to stay in a room close to the main cell where he was able to remain hidden. Muffled begging and pleading while another voice yelled incoherent words were able to be heard. Bad was fidgeting with his fingers. ‘It’ll be over soon, the hour is almost over’, Bad told himself with a shaky breath, or maybe he was imagining telling Dream that; a sentence the prisoner was, unfortunately, never going to hear.
After a few minutes, he heard the screaming come to a fading stop. Never abruptly, like with the potions.
Then, he heard pistons, muffled conversations between Sam and the other person. Sam was letting someone in to hurt Dream, Bad thought. But he couldn't intervene, not now, Sam would have his head if he did. So, Bad decided to wait.
And wait.
Sam wasn't coming back.
Usually, around thirty minutes to an hour after Dream stopped screaming, Sam would give him his daily rations.
But Bad had waited longer than that. And Sam wasn't coming back. Did he forget about Dream and went home? He'd usually go home for the night after Dream’s “session” and after feeding him, leaving Bad to look after the prison on his night shift.
But Sam didn't come back.
Sighing and with shaky hands, Bad decided to walk into the direction of the main cell, a curtain of lava greeting him when he walked up the stairs. Nervously, he looked around, Sam was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he truly forgot or couldn't have been bothered, Bad thought.
He didn't like to give Dream food by using the lever, it felt dehumanizing to him. People shouldn't be fed with dispensers. Whenever he was able to, he would give food to Dream directly by entering his cell and Bad decided that today was no different.
He opened the chest that was connected to the dispenser system. Like usual, it was filled only with raw potatoes. Dream had been eating nothing but raw potatoes for months on end. Bad suddenly remembered the screaming again, taking a quick glance towards the lava wall. Yet, the prison was silent.
Then, he played with a thought that was on his mind.
He soon gave in with a sigh, summoned his inventory and took out the sandwiches he'd made for himself to eat on his break during his shift. It'd be fine, he told himself. He could always get something else or eat after his shift.
And so, with a bag of sandwiches in his hand, he operated the lever to drain the lava, waiting patiently and nervously for the molten rock to vanish.
Once the lava was lowered enough so that the cell was partially visible, Bad saw Dream glance at him before making a quick run, as best as he could, to the corner of the cell that had the wooden chest sitting next to the prison wall. Bad noticed how he was struggling to walk right, noticed as he was limping on one leg. He was most likely hurting a lot.
Bad felt worried, he had never seen Dream make a run for a corner of his cell before when he lowered the lava to give him his meal. Usually, Dream would be standing close to the netherite blocks, punching the air or waving at him until Bad arrived in the cell. This was so much different.
Once the lava wall was drained and only a sea of molten rock remained, Bad flicked another lever to push down the netherite barrier. Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw Dream flinch, saw his gaze switch from him to the barrier and then back to him at lightning speed.
Next, Bad summoned an ender pearl out of his inventory and threw it across the lava sea, holding tightly onto the sandwich bag.
Within a second, he landed in the high security cell and his gaze fell on the prisoner, who was still in the corner, shifting and staring at him with wide, wild but tired and glassy eyes. Dream looked awful, he was partially leaning on the wall to rest his injured leg. Bad wasn't able to see any other injuries, but he suspected that Dream was doing his best to hide them, if the way he had turned his body was anything to go by. Bad wasn't able to tell from the other side of the lava lake but it was clear now - he saw how Dream’s entire body was uncontrollably shaking.
“H-hey Dream. Uhm… I'm bringing you food. You know I don't...I don't like the dispensers. Uh…”, he stammered, trying to make his voice sound warm and welcoming, “I think Sam went home, he might've forgotten. Oh!”, he exclaimed, opening the paper bag with a crinkling sound. He noticed a second flinch from Dream at the sudden noise. “Instead of potatoes, I got you sandwiches! There's two of them in this bag, I made them myself before I left my house. I- uh, I think that a diet of only potatoes is bad for people”, he tried to sound excited and light-hearted, in hopes of brightening up the mood in this tiny room, as best as possible. “But! Don't tell Sam, okay? I'm not- I'm not supposed to be giving you anything but potatoes...but- I don't know. I think everyone deserves a cheat day every now and then, don't you think?”.
Bad put on a warm smile but Dream didn't reply to any of his words. He took out a sandwich and presented it to Dream with an outstretched arm.
Instead of Dream taking the sandwich, like Bad had hoped for, Dream flinched hard and pressed himself deeper into the corner, staring at Bad's hand. Bad noticed how Dream's body started to shake more, how his breathing grew faster and inconsistent, how it sounded strained and wheezy.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I uh…”, slowly, and gently, Bad took his own arm back, put the sandwich back into the bag and set the bag on the obsidian floor, taking a few steps back and holding his arms up in surrender. He felt like he was dealing with a wild animal, and quickly, he mentally slapped himself for thinking that. Dream's not an animal, he's a person, even if he did a lot of awful things.
“I’m not here to hurt you. I'm sorry, I don't know what's been happening to you, I don't... But I'm sorry”, Bad said, voice gentle, “here, I'll give you this, too”, he said, slowly putting down a glass bottle filled with a faintly glowing liquid onto the floor, next to the bag. Immediately, he saw Dream's eyes widen, panic flickering in them. "Don't worry, it's not a weakness potion. It's a healing pot, it has a different color, see?"
Dream's terrified and nervous gaze was still fixated on Bad, eyes not leaving his form. Bad concluded that his presence must be stressing him out.
“It's okay, it's okay. Uh, I'll be on my way, okay? I'll leave the bag and the potion here, yeah? If you do decide to eat the food and drink the potion, make sure you throw the bag and the glass bottle into the lava, alright? I don’t- don't tell Sam that I gave you sandwiches and a pot. We can keep this between us two, yeah?”, Bad asked but again, Dream said nothing, only staring at him while his body was trembling.
“Alright I'll leave you be now. Goodnight, Dream. Please try to rest, okay? And whenever I'm here, you can talk to me, I promise”, Bad said gently, making a small waving motion with his hand before turning around and chucking an ender pearl towards the room on the other side of the lava lake.
He looked back at the cell and at Dream, who was still huddled deep into the corner of his cell. Bad shot him a weak smile before pulling the lever and watching the lava pour down from the ceiling. Before the lava was completely covering Dream’s cell, Bad swore he heard the crinkling of the paper bag and the thud of a glass bottle getting knocked over. He must've grabbed the sandwich bag and the potion, Bad thought. This made him feel less nervous.
From then on, whenever Bad was able to give Dream his ration, he would try to sneak in a healing potion and some actual food into the cell. Sometimes, Sam forgot to feed him, other times he somehow was able to convince Sam to let him be the one to bring Dream his meals.
He was sure he wouldn't ever find out what was actually happening between closed curtains, he assumed it was torture. He felt awful for Dream, for every time he went into his cell, Dream looked worse and worse. He didn't know how else to safely help him, other than sneaking in healing items and food. Bad tried to talk to him as well, to no avail of course, as he'd never reply, only keeping himself in the same corner as his body trembled in fear.
He couldn't break him out or else Sam and the whole SMP would have him and Dream dead within seconds; couldn't ask for Sam to stop the torture or else he'd lose his guard position, making Dream lose the only bit of support he currently has. He didn't feel like he could tell anyone about the torture, nobody would believe him or care about Dream's pain considering how most, if not everyone was against him.
The only way he was able to help Dream was to help him in secret. He just hoped it would be enough.