Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

With deliberate, confident strides, Dream makes his way through the dark, ominous underground dungeon.

As his emerald-green eyes quickly and effectively scan each and every holding cell, he adjusts his sleek, jet-black gloves, ensuring that no one can see his hands.

Not that anyone is paying much attention to him. Dream, among five other potential buyers, continues 'browsing the merchandise' as the seller had put it with a boisterous, cruel chuckle when they entered. 

At their own paces, Dream and the others examine the hybrids with critical gazes and, while they all have a cruel glint in their eyes as they leer at the beings trapped in the cells, Dream has to try his best to stamp down his pity. 

He wants to help them all.

He wants to drop the act of being an average buyer to instead whip out his axe, slice off the heads of these wicked people, and free each and every poor soul trapped inside.

But that isn't his job.

He's recon. 

He infiltrates, takes note of how many hybrids and staff there are, then sends Sapnap the cords so he and the other men can storm in and slaughter the bad guys while saving all the hybrids.

It's a much more heroic, action-packed job than Dream's subtle, undercover missions.

But, at the very least, Dream being here right now helps Sapnap rescue so many people.

Even though Dream's primary purpose is gathering information to send back to Sapnap and King George, he does more than just that.

At each of these dreaded places, there's always some hybrid in dire need of help, someone who doesn't have much time left or will be absolutely petrified when Sapnap comes to save them.

Whenever Dream finds that poor hybrid, he demands to buy them, uncaring of their price--perks of being best friends with the king--and personally ensures that they will have a better life. 

It's dangerous and grueling work, but Dream wouldn't want to change a thing.

Well, other than slaughtering whoever hurt the man before him, he wouldn't change a thing.

When Dream comes across an Elytrian, one of the rarest and most beautiful creatures to ever exist, he feels his heart absolutely shatter. 

Rather than flying up in the great blue sky, this Elytrian is trapped in a dark, cramped cell, the enclosed space so small that his arms wouldn't even be able to spread out inside the cell, let alone the man's massive wings.

And, oh, his wings.

They're absolutely filthy. What was once beautiful, shimmering black and silver wings are now encrusted in a thick layer of dirt and grime, red, angry skin poking out from beneath clumps where feathers have clearly been torn out from the harsh chains encircling them, something that must be so painful. 

Eventually, while trying his best not to cry, Dream tears his gaze away from the sorry state of the man's wings, instead inspecting the rest of him. 

Gangly, atrophied arms dangle from the ceiling, attached high above him by chains that dig harshly into his fragile limbs, leaving raw, bloodied skin in their wake. His small stature is slumped forward, his entire body weight seemingly held up by the chains keeping him suspended, that horrible strain on his shoulder joints causing Dream to hold back a wince, hoping that those limbs haven't been dislocated yet. Upon lowering his gaze, Dream notices that the man is positively filthy, his skin looking more grey from dirt than the color it should be, his tattered, pathetic excuse for clothes riddled with tears and bloodstains, some a murky brown and others a vibrant shade of red, making it seem as though he was hurt just moments ago.

"Look at me," Dream sharply commands as he steps closer to the bars, pouring all the power he can muster into his voice, even though he would love nothing more than to wrap the man in his arms and whisper sweet promises that he's safe and will never be hurt again. 

With a sharp, fearful inhale, the man quickly raises his gaze, their eyes meeting for just a moment before his head falls forward again, his neck too exhausted to carry the weight of his head any longer.

But, in that brief moment, Dream saw everything he needed to in order to make his decision.

Because, unlike every other hybrid he saw, this man's eyes were not filled with apathy and indifference, the kind that can only come from being entirely unable to control even the simplest aspects of your own life for much too long.

No, this man's eyes weren't like that. 

They're so alive. 

Those vibrant blue eyes, much like the way the ocean glistens in the sunlight, looked at him with so many emotions shining through.

Sure, most of those were just intense panic and fear and pain, but, underneath all that, Dream saw a spark of defiance. 

During his time spent helping captured hybrids, Dream learned that they're taught to not look into anyone's eyes. 

He knows that, and he's sure that this man knows it too, meaning that he just deliberately disobeyed an order.

And if this man is willing to disobey orders, willing to look him directly in the eyes, Dream knows that he has to fight for him.

So many hybrids have been beaten and broken down to the point that they lose that spark, that desire to still be themselves despite all the pain and hardship thrown their way. 

Once that spark is gone, it's so hard to get it back.

And Dream would be damned if he allowed this man to be hurt more, to let this spark be snuffed out when he could nurture it, could give this man a space where he could be safe and free to be who he really is before someone else steals that away from him.

Dream knows what he has to do now.

When he finally manages to tear his gaze away from the man, he locks eyes with the seller and states in his firmest tone that leaves no room for debate, "This is the one I’m buying."

Chapter Text

After saying that he wants to buy the Elytrian, Dream stares down the seller, waiting for him to come closer so they can discuss prices, but the stout, burly man simply raises an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“Excuse me,” Dream says a little louder than before after clearing his throat, hoping to get the man’s attention this time. “How much is the Elytrian?”

“With all due respect, Elytrians are an extremely rare and expensive species,” the seller says with a scowl as he finally approaches Dream, sizing up the man's simple get-up of a plain black long-sleeve t-shirt, jet-black jeans, and dark combat boots, none of which scream his status and wealth like the other people looking to buy. “I can help you find one that is much more suitable for you.”

Not feeling the slightest bit perturbed, knowing that, with George as his best friend, he has all the riches the land can offer, Dream confidently questions, “How much is he? I can pay it.”

“20 netherite ingots,” The seller says the first price that comes to mind, waiting for outrage to flash across the man’s face, knowing that no one would pay such a large sum, even for an Elytrian; a price like this is sure to drive the man away, that way the Elytrian can be bought by someone who can actually afford to pay for it. 

While plopping down his ender chest and taking out the netherite ingots, casually holding them in his hands as if that isn’t more riches than most people see in their entire lives, Dream asks with a smirk, “Where do I sign?”

With wide, disbelieving eyes, the seller quickly steps toward Dream and snatches the shiny netherite while softly asking, “Who are you?”

“I'm Clay,” Dream says his undercover name with his smirk still in place as he sticks out his hand for the man to shake, fighting back a laugh as the seller fumbles to grab his hand, nearly dropping the netherite in the process. “I’ve been saving up for a hybrid for years, but I couldn’t find the right one. I’d like to buy this one though.”

“Yes, yes, of course!” The seller excitedly says in a rush, clutching the netherite tightly to his chest, not expecting anyone to actually pay such an outrageous price, let alone this… commoner in front of him. “You can sign the paperwork in my office while my staff gets your purchase ready for transport.”

While fighting down his budding unease, not liking the thought of anyone making the man ‘ready for transport’, Dream bites his tongue and follows after the seller, knowing that he can’t risk expressing his displeasure over this situation and losing the opportunity to buy the Elytrian. 

Many pages worth of paperwork later, Dream walks out of the office, 20 netherite ingots lighter and a paper in his hand saying that he’s the official owner of the Elytrian.

Even though Dream has done this many times before, his stomach gurgles uncomfortably at that word, hating that idea that these buyers and sellers are perfectly okay with owning a literal person. 

With a heavy, forceful sigh, Dream pushes away that thought, instead stepping outside the dungeon and traveling up the flight of stone steps, having been told that, once his purchase was ready, ‘it will be brought to your steed’. 

Whatever the fuck that means…

As Dream approaches his pearly-white horse, Spirit, the fastest mare in all the lands, he notices… something next to the horse that wasn’t there when he first came.

Surely not…

There’s no way the Elytrian is in that… fucking box.

But, as he draws nearer, his black combat boots crunching on the gravel below him, he hears small, muffled whimpers coming from inside the crate. 

While muttering a few curses, Dream rushes over to the crate, quickly kneeling in front of it and inserting the key he was given by the seller. 

After he opens the door, allowing the Elytrian to climb out, Dream scoots back several blocks, not wanting to crowd the obviously terrified man.

For a few moments, Dream just watches as the man continues huddling inside the crate, his head bent forward unnaturally, the box much too small to comfortably fit a wolf, let alone a full-grown person with massive wings. 

When the man makes no move to leave the cramped confines, Dream softly calls out to him, “Hey, it’s okay, you can come out now. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

Ever so slowly, the man shuffles outside, crawling on his hands and knees, something that seems extremely difficult considering the fact that, not only are his hands chained together, but there is also a long chain connecting his wrists to his collar and the shackles at his ankles. 

Now that the man is out in the sunlight, Dream can’t help but wince, realizing with dread that he looks even more injured and dirty than he had inside the cell. 

While keeping his hands raised in surrender, Dream moves toward the man, gently shushing him when he begins trembling harder and releasing little whimpers. 

Once he reaches the Elytrian, slow enough that the man could pull away, Dream cups the side of his face, gently raising the man’s head to meet his gaze. 

Instantly, Dream frowns deeply, muttering a soft, “You poor thing,” as he takes note of the muzzle securely fastened around the man’s mouth and jaw, rendering him unable to speak other than fearful, muffled whimpers, along with a blindfold, making the man even more helpless and unaware of the world around him. 

Tenderly, Dream strokes his thumb along the side of the man’s cheek, being mindful of the many bruises littering his pale face.

With all the fervor of a drowning man, the Elytrian desperately leans into the hand on his face, the action causing Dream to chuckle sadly. 

After a few more moments of just gently touching the battered and bruised man, Dream moves his hand away from his face, instead carefully placing a hand on his back and underneath his knees, then Dream scoops him up into his arms.

While murmuring soft assurances, Dream makes his way over to Spirit, knowing that, as the man presses his face into Dream's chest, seeking safety and comfort, he made the right choice in picking this hybrid. 

Sure, he wishes that he could help them all, but he knows that, within a day's time, Sapnap and the others will storm that place, rescue the hybrids inside, and lock up all those despicable people. 

But, right here and now, the only thing that matters is that Dream's climbing onto Spirit, clutching tightly to the battered man in his arms, hoping that his touch alone promises safety.

But, just in case it doesn't, Dream softly says in a reassuring tone, "You can rest now. I'll protect you."

Without needing to be told twice, the man allows his eyes to slip shut and slumps against Dream, instantly falling into a deep slumber, feeling much, much warmer under the sun's rays than he has in a long time.

With a sad smile, Dream spurs Spirit into a trot, thankful to ride away from that awful place and instead return to his room in Kinoko Kingdom Palace, where King George, Sapnap, and many of his other friends reside.

Once they get there, he can take all that shit off the poor Elytrian, then he'll show the man that he's safe and no one will ever hurt him again.

Chapter Text

Pain.

It hurts.

It hurts so bad.

Every part of Phil feels like it's on fire, tiny knives stabbing into his skin, leaving him in aching, throbbing agony all over.  

Why does he hurt so badly?

Did he do something wrong?

He tried to be good, he always tries so hard to do the right thing, but they always hurt him and he doesn't understand why and he just wants the pain to end please please make it sto-

“Hey, hey, take a deep breath," the low, gentle voice of a man says from nearby, the sound causing Phil to flinch violently, a muffled whine tearing through his throat against his wishes, his fear and panic spiking now that he knows he isn't alone in his cell. "It's okay. You’re safe here.” 

Even though Phil is absolutely terrified to the point that he can barely even think, he knows an order when he hears one, causing him to shakily take in a deep breath. 

After a few moments of simply breathing through his panic, he hears that same voice softly ask, “Want me to take that shit off you?” 

Even though Phil knows that this is a trap, knows that they never, ever take off the chains, he can't help but hesitantly nod, wanting more than anything for his wings to be free again.

He won't even fly, can't even fly because of the clumps of missing feathers, he'd be good, he wouldn't try to escape, just please, take the chains off, they hurt so badly please please plea-

"Okay, I’ll start with the blindfold," the man says in a calm, reassuring tone, but the sound of his voice breaking Phil from his panicked thoughts still causes the Elytrian to flinch violently with a fearful whimper. "I promise I won't hurt you while taking it off. And that way you’ll see I don’t have anything with me that’ll hurt you.” 

Phil doesn't trust this man, not even for a second, but he slowly nods in understanding, hoping that maybe, just maybe, if he cooperates the man will take his restraints off. 

When Phil feels nimble, gloved fingers brush against the back of his head, he flinches away so violently that his head and shoulder slam against the wall, a pained whine escaping him as he begins thrashing to get away from the hand on him.

Even though he tries with all his might to get away, the hands still stubbornly remain on the back of his head, the touch accompanied by a soft, "Shhhh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'm just untying the blindfold they put on you."

Finally, the hands recede and the cloth drops away from his eyes, allowing Phil to see his surroundings.

Instantly, he takes note of the fact that he's not in his cell anymore. 

Even though this room is dimly lit, much like his cell, it has bright, shimmering quartz walls, nothing like the harsh, dark gray of his stone cell. 

The next thing he notices is that the room is absolutely massive. It must be at least ten times bigger than his cell and, if his wings were one day freed, he knows that he would have plenty of room to stretch them out so they could be properly taken care of.

While forcefully pushing away the unrealistic hope of his wings being free ever again, Phil turns his attention toward the wall opposite him. There's a large, three-block wide window, luscious ruby-red curtains draped over it to keep the sunlight from coming inside, something that Phil is grateful for after months spent in a dark cell. 

The floor consists of the same quartz of the walls, but in the area in front of the bed there's a large, plush rug that matches the curtains, the material seeming so nice that Phil would love nothing more than to curl up on it and fall asleep. 

As he raises his gaze from the floor, he realizes that he's sitting on a king-size bed, the black sheets creating a cushiony surface so soft, so unlike the harsh surfaces of his cell that tears nearly rush to Phil's eyes, hoping that, maybe one day, he'll get to sleep on something so soft. 

After a few seconds of hesitation, Phil raises his gaze from the sheets, looking at the foot of the bed where he knows the man must be sitting.

He expects to see the person in formal dress wear, maybe even gold and emerald jewelry dangling off them and sparkling in the low lighting, knowing that, for this person to have such a lavish room, they must be wealthy.

Instead, he sees a man who looks to be in his early twenties wearing a lime-green hoodie, black sweatpants, and black gloves covering his hands. His wavy, dirty-blond hair that falls down to his ears is messy, sticking out all over the place. Freckles dot around his nose and cleanly shaven cheeks, making the man look very young. Lastly, Phil looks into the man's eyes, seeing emerald-green eyes looking right back at him, the sight reminding him of the beautiful treetops that he spent hours upon hours flying over a long, long time ago. 

With a sad smile, the man softly says, "Hey there. Want me to take that out of your mouth next?” 

Even though Phil still doesn't trust the man, being able to see him and the room he's in makes him feel the slightest bit safer, causing him to hesitantly nod.

With deliberately slow movements, the man moves forward across the bed, the only thing in his outstretched hands a small, silver key. 

After a few moments of spent in tense anticipation, Phil hears the sound of the key clicking the lock open, and then the man is carefully guiding the offensive leather out of his mouth. 

“W-Why?” Phil shakily questions in a weak, raspy tone, not understanding why this man is being… nice to him? 

“I want to help you," the man earnestly says with his sad smile still in place, gently putting his hand on top of Phil's shoulder, the soothing touch causing him to release a low, sad chirp, never wanting that kind hand to leave him. "You’re a hybrid, but you’re a person too. You shouldn’t be treated like this.” 

Even though Phil knows that those words aren't true, he really likes the sound of them and can't help but lean toward the man, hoping that he won't be struck for invading his personal space.

But, instead of the man slapping him like Phil expected, warm, strong arms wrap around his lower back and pull him close, allowing him to lean against the man's broad chest. 

Instantly, Phil's eyes slip shut, his instincts screaming at him a mess of flock safe run hurt sleep flock flock flock, but he tries his best to ignore them, knowing that this man he just met isn't his flock, nor will he ever be, it's just his stupid bird brain latching onto the first shred of kindness he's received in so long. 

"You're safe now, I promise," the man softly whispers as he rubs soothing circles against Phil's lower back.

And even through all his pain and exhaustion, he notices the way the man never touches his wings, his hands never straying from his lower back.

Although it's such a small thing, Phil can't help but smile ever so slightly as he leans more firmly against the man's chest, thankful that, if nothing else, the man isn't touching his wings or ripping out his feathers.

As Phil drifts off to sleep in the man's arms, he can't help but think that, for the first time in a very long time, maybe when he wakes up again things won't be so bad.

Chapter Text

Oh, there's someone walking through the hallway!

Should he go follow them?

No, he really shouldn't, what if they get upset, he really doesn't want to make anyone mad-

Wait, it's Dream! 

He likes Dream, he really likes Dream, Dream's always so nice and funny and always has time for him and Dream never looks at him or expects him to talk when he doesn't want to and he really likes Dream.

Is Dream… carrying something?

Is that...

Yep, yep, that's a person, Dream's carrying a person, a very bloody person and, if it was anyone else, he'd be very concerned.

But this is Dream and he's good and kind and would never ever hurt someone. 

Knowing that Dream won't be mad at him for following, he steadily creeps behind the man, content to observe from afar, especially since he's probably doing something important, much more important than dealing with him and his stupid curiosit-

Oh, Dream just closed his bedroom door.

He should leave now that he can't see Dream. 

Yeah, he shouldn't go closer.

Going over there would definitely be a bad idea.

In fact, that would be the worst idea, like, ever.

Yeah, that would be bad, very very bad.

Oh, wait, why is he in front of the door?

He doesn’t remember walking over here…

And didn’t he just decide that this would be a bad idea?

Wait, what exactly is a bad idea? 

Is there something he shouldn't be doing? 

Is he going to get in trouble?! 

No, no, no, he doesn't want to get in troub-

“Ranboo, is that you?” 

When a familiar voice cuts through Ranboo’s panicked thoughts, he can’t help but flinch, a low, distressed enderman warble escaping him as he turns his attention back to the closed bedroom door in front of him.

Even though he knows how to speak and understand common tongue, Ranboo simply releases a low whine in ender, finding that, more often than not, it's much easier to do simple vocalizations than trying to form actual words.

"You can come in, if you want to," Dream gently calls out through the closed door, the man's invitation causing Ranboo to release a relieved sigh, thankful that he didn't have to ask to be let inside. "I will warn you though that I'm with the newest hybrid and he's in pretty bad shape."

Feeling concerned for whoever Dream's with, Ranboo slowly opens the door to Dream's bedroom, keeping his eyes firmly rooted to the ground below, not wanting to accidentally make eye contact, even if it's with the man he trusts more than anyone else. 

"Hey, Boo," Dream gently says as he pats an empty space on his bed, letting Ranboo know that there is space for him if he wants to join too, that way he doesn't have to look up to see the bed. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Slowly, Ranboo makes his way over to the bed, sitting on the soft sheets and bringing his knees close to his chest, hugging them tightly.

I saw you in the hallways. Ranboo says in ender after a few moments of hesitation, finding it much easier to speak when he can use his native language, especially since Dream is one of the few people Ranboo's met who actually understands it. Wanted to make sure he's okay and see if there's anything I can do to help.

"That's really nice of you," Dream softly says with a small, fond smile, reaching out his hand and placing it on the bed near Ranboo, giving the enderman hybrid the opportunity to hold his hand if he wants to. "And I don't think there's anything you can do to help, at least not yet. I want to try to get him to be less terrified of me, and then I'll work on him meeting other people. If you'd like, once he's ready, you can be the first person he meets."

Thanks, Dream, I'd like that. I've never met an Elytrian before. I've even heard that they speak ender, so it'd be nice to have another person I could talk to. Ranboo replies with a shy smile, not wanting to get his hopes up too high, but it would be nice if he could talk to another person like this, simply using the sounds that are like second nature to him rather than trying to force out difficult, clumsy words. 

"That would be nice," Dream agrees with his smile still in place, also hoping that the Elytrian knows ender, especially since Ranboo is so much more comfortable speaking like that. "Once he's more healed up, I'll ask him if he knows ender."

With an even wider smile, Ranboo releases a happy trill, the sound causing Dream to chuckle softly, his heart soaring with fondness when Ranboo gently takes his hand, holding it loosely in his own.

While taking great care not to look at Ranboo, knowing how uncomfortable that makes the kid, Dream gives his hand a reassuring squeeze, that silent show of care making Ranboo release a pleased sound with his smile still in place. 

After a while of simply holding hands and sitting in companionable silence, Ranboo abruptly releases Dream's hand and teleports out of the room without another word.

With a heavy sigh, Dream mutters under his breath, "Poor kid," knowing that Ranboo has made so much progress during the time they've known each other, but he still wishes that the kid had an easier time. 

But, even though Dream wants to do more to help Ranboo, he reminds himself that, by just being there for the kid, he's already helping him, especially since Ranboo can talk to him in the easiest way possible.

He really should get back to trying to teach Tubbo and Tommy ender…

Maybe once the Elytrian is better healed he can put time toward doing that again, knowing that, if Ranboo could speak ender to his best friends too, life would be much easier for the trio.

But that's a task for another day because, right now, he has a wounded, sleeping Elytrian in his arms, one that he's determined to devote all his time and attention to for the foreseeable future. 

Slowly, being mindful not to rouse the sleeping man, Dream lays down, keeping the Elytrian firmly wrapped in his arms. 

And if Dream's heart melts a little when the Elytrian releases a content chirp in his sleep, no one is around to see the wide grin on his face. 

Chapter Text

"Hey there, Sleepy Head" Dream says with a soft, fond smile as the Elytrian in his arms begins to stir.

"Wha-" the Elytrian asks in a raspy, groggy tone, his sleep-rough voice causing Dream to bite back a giggle, not wanting the man to take that the wrong way.

While still smiling slightly, Dream gently explains, "I took off the blindfold and muzzle, and then you fell asleep on me for about an hour."

"Oh…" the Elytrian softly says, his tone a mix of embarrassment and fear that causes Dream to rub soothing circles against his lower back. "I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't mean to fall aslee-"

"Hey, it's okay, no need to apologize," Dream gently interrupts the man, not wanting him to say sorry for sleeping, especially when his body so clearly needs it. "I'm sure you're exhausted, so it's perfectly fine." 

When the Elytrian is silent for several long moments, Dream hesitantly asks, "If I take off the rest of your restraints, are you gonna try to hurt me?" 

With a violent flinch and hitched inhale, the man exclaims, "No!"

Then, seeming to become aware of how loud he just was, he curls in on himself and softly finishes, "I won’t, I promise. You’re the first person to be nice to me in a long time, I won’t ruin that.”

While feeling his heart absolutely shatter over those words, Dream does his best to fight back tears and quietly reassures the man, "Let's get that off you then." 

“Thank you, Mate,” the Elytrian murmurs while sitting up, pulling back from Dream's chest as he reaches out his trembling hands so they can be freed next. 

“You’re welcome," Dream says just as softly with a small, sad smile as he sits up too and takes the Elytrian's hands, holding them tenderly in his own. "I’m Dream.” 

Even though Dream didn't expect the Elytrian to share his name, especially not this soon, the man surprises him by replying with a shaky, barely visible smile, “Phil.” 

“Hey, Phil," Dream says with a wide, gigantic grin, feeling absolutely ecstatic over how much progress they've already made.

Then, as his smile dims, Dream softly says, "Wish we could’ve met under better circumstances.” 

“I’m more than happy with this,” Phil says without hesitation, and damn, if Dream's heart hadn't already shattered, he knows that those words would've broken it into thousands of fractured pieces. 

Dream’s expression softens at those words, and he gently says, “I'll take those off your wrists and ankles now."

With practiced ease, Dream uses the key he was given to unlock each of the chain cuffs, throwing them into a box on the floor with a disgusted scowl once he's done.

Now that Phil's arms and legs are free, he scoots back a bit, gently rubbing his raw, bloodied wrists as he does so.

After a few moments of just letting Phil inspect his wounded wrists and ankles, Dream hesitantly breaks the silence by softly asking, “Would you like to take off the collar yourself? I get it if you don’t want me touching near your neck...” 

For a few seconds, Phil just stares at Dream, his blue eyes blown wide in a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Finally, while reaching out a violently trembling hand for the key, he murmurs a desperate, “Please.” 

Without hesitation, Dream hands over the key to Phil, wanting to pull the man into a hug when he takes in a sharp breath, clutching the key to his chest with teary eyes as he breathes out a soft, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, Phil,” Dream says with a sad smile as he places a gentle hand on the man's knee. 

It takes a little while, especially since Phil's hands are trembling uncontrollably, but, finally, the sound of a lock clicking open permeates the silence of the room.

As Phil slowly takes the collar off his neck, he can't help but release a soft, disbelieving chuckle, the sound causing Dream to give the man's knee a reassuring squeeze, hoping that that gentle touch is a reminder that he isn't in this alone.

After a few moments of just staring down at the collar, holding it in one hand and touching his bare, bruised neck with the other, Phil wordlessly stretches out his hand to give the collar over to Dream. 

While once again scowling, Dream throws the collar and attached chain into the box, looking forward to getting rid of those horrible things once and for all. 

Now that the collar is off, Phil hesitantly asks, “Will you free my wings too?” 

“Of course,” Dream replies without hesitation as he accepts the key back from Phil, a sharp stab of pain entering his heart as the man's eyes widen in a mix of disbelief and unadulterated hope.

Much to Dream's surprise, Phil turns so his back faces him, giving Dream better access to the man's wings, but also putting him in an extremely vulnerable position. 

Even though Dream doesn't want to jump to conclusions or get his hopes too high, he can't help but think that the Elytrian might be starting to trust him, that thought putting a large smile on his face as he begins freeing Phil's wings. 

The second Phil’s wings are freed, he releases a loud, relieved sob, having not had his wings free in many many months, as evidenced by the way his joints pop as he stretches them out and many dying feathers fall to the bed and rug below. 

Without hesitation, Dream gently coaxes Phil to turn around and pulls him into a hug, allowing the man to cry against his shoulder, his hands fisted in his hoodie in a white-knuckled grip as the tears cascade down his cheeks. 

After a long, long time of simply crying over all the pain and hardship his poor wings have experienced, Phil finally calms down again, causing him to beg in a shaky, teary whisper, “Pl-Please, don’t chain up my wings again-n. I’ll be g-good, I p-prom-” 

“Shhhh, you don’t have to promise anything," Dream gently cuts him off as he moves one hand away from Phil's lower back, instead placing it on the man's head and running his fingers through the shaggy, tangled blonde locks. "Your wings are never going to be chained up again.” 

“R-Really?” Phil nervously questions with a sniffle.

“Really," Dream promises without hesitation, meaning those words wholeheartedly. "Never again.” 

Upon hearing those words, Phil reluctantly questions, "So you aren't gonna use those… things in the future?"

"Hell no," Dream adamantly replies without even a second of hesitation, knowing that those disgusting things will never, ever see the light of day again. "I'm gonna bury them in a box in my garden so they're never seen again."

"Can I come with?" Phil softly asks with another sniffle as he clutches to Dream a little tighter, wanting to see with his own eyes that those chains are buried, never to trap his wings again.

"Sure, let's go," Dream says with a small smile as he pulls back from their hug.

After wiping away his tears, Phil shakily stands up, his limbs feeling a little weak and unsteady, but having his wings free again helps him remain on his feet much easier, especially since he's able to balance better now that his wings are back where they belong rather than being trapped behind his back. 

As one hand holds the box, Dream reaches out his other hand toward Phil, smiling widely when the man slowly takes his hand. With their hands interlocked, they make their way to the garden, ready to bury the past and start the next chapter of Phil's life, one that's filled with companionship and happiness, rather than the pain and darkness of his old cell and the chains that once bound him.

Chapter Text

Today has been… interesting, to say the least.

When Phil woke up today, he thought it would be more of the same, more hours spent trapped in his cell, choking back whimpers and cries of pain to avoid more beatings. Then, he overheard that, for the first time, he'd be up for sale. He thought that no one would want him, especially since his wings are in such terrible shape, but he was wrong. Those last moments spent in his cell are pretty hazy, but he remembers the pure, unadulterated fear he felt as they shoved him in that box so he could be brought to his new owner, as if he's nothing more than a fucking animal. After that, he thought that his life was over.

But, almost immediately, the man freed him. And then he took off that fucking blindfold and muzzle. And removed his chains. And let him take off his collar. And freed his wings.

His wings are free…

They're actually free…

As he and Dream step outside, still holding hands, Phil gasps as he feels the first rays of sunlight in so long, his wings happily fluffing up behind him because he can actually do that now since his wings finally fucking free.

"You okay?" Dream gently questions as his gloved hand gives Phil's a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm fucking amazing!" Phil exclaims with a bubbly chuckle, his wide eyes staring at the lush grass covered with a plethora of different flowers, many of which are colors that he forgot existed. 

And at this moment, Phil knows that, no matter what happens next, this is the best day he's had in a very long time.

Even if Dream turns out to be a cruel bastard, feeling the warmth of the sun with free wings makes it all worth it. 

But, instead of mocking him or hitting him for being so loud, neither of which Phil would’ve been surprised about, Dream smiles widely and softly says, “I’m glad, Phil. Once you get to know this place a little better, you could come out to the garden and sit by the flowers in the sun.”

Even though Phil tries his best to choke back his hope, he can’t deny that being able to come out here in the sunshine and just relax sounds absolutely amazing.

He wants that so badly…

Maybe Dream will even let him spend some extra time out here today.

That would be nice…

Before Phil can continue dwelling on that idea, he’s ripped from his thoughts when a loud, excited voice calls out to them, “Oh my gosh, are you doing the flower thing?! I love the flower thing!" 

While Phil flinches away from the sound of that voice, Dream simply releases a fond chuckle and happily says, "Hey, Tubbo." 

"Hi, Dream!” that same voice calls out and, upon looking up, Phil finally finds him, noticing a bee-hybrid floating above a nearby patch of flowers. “And hello to you too..."

Feeling terribly inept at dealing with another stranger, especially one who seems so outwardly excited, Phil simply stares at the bee, noticing the way his black antennas bob up and down as he floats, his wings beating rapidly against his bright yellow shirt, his black pants giving off the perfect appearance of a bee, fit with a hole in the back of them for his stinger to fit through. But, unlike a bee, the boy has a mop of dirty blonde hair and baby blue eyes that shine brightly with excitement and mischief. 

While this boy seems nice, the fact that Phil’s even outside is terribly overwhelming, so how is he supposed to talk to someone when he can barely even breathe the fresh air around him without freaking out?

While hoping that this doesn’t get him into trouble, Phil shuffles behind Dream, hoping that the taller man will help hide him from the bee’s prying eyes.

After a few seconds of silence between the trio, Tubbo suddenly exclaims, “Oh shit, I forgot that I needed to meet Ranboo! I'll see you both later! Nice meeting you, Bird Man!" 

While fondly rolling his eyes, Dream says with a wave, "Alright, see ya later, Tubs!" 

As he starts flying off toward the Palace doors, Tubbo waves to Phil, but the Elytrian doesn’t even see it, trembling violently as he bites his lip to keep from whimpering, just wanting to go back inside where it was just him and Dream and no other people, no flower smells assaulting his nose, no sunshine beating down on him, making him a hot, sweaty mess, the thought of him being even dirtier, something that could displease his new owner, causes Phil to panic even more, wanting to be good and do the right thing and not get in trouble especially since Dream seems so nice and he doesn’t want the man to stop being nice but he knows that it’ll end even though he really doesn’t want it to pleas-

“Phil, hey, hey, take a deep breath,” Dream gently coaxes in a low, soothing tone, the sound of his voice causing Phil to suck in a harsh gasp of air simply because he was ordered to, and he always tries so hard to follow orders.

“There you go, just keep breathing like that, you’re doing so good,” Dream softly encourages, his gentle words greatly helping to decrease Phil's panic.

After a few more moments, Phil finally calms down from his panic attack, shakily raising his gaze from the grass he's sitting on to meet Dream’s eyes as he softly whispers, “I’m so sorr-”

“Hey, none of that,” Dream gently interrupts Phil, placing a reassuring hand on his lower back when the Elytrian whimpers while flinching violently. “You have no reason to apologize.”

Phil doesn’t believe him, can’t believe him when, back at his cell, he’d apologize for hours and still be punished for each and every fuckup.

Before he can think about that any longer, Dream begins rubbing soothing circles against his back as he mutters with a wry smile, "Well, you've met Tubbo now. I know he can be overwhelming, but I promise he's a good kid. Can't help but smile whenever I'm around him."

Feeling too drained to reply, Phil simply hums in response before leaning forward so his forehead is pressed against Dream’s chest, remembering how amazing it felt earlier when the man hugged him.

Without even a moment of hesitation, Dream wraps his arms around Phil while murmuring reassuringly, “I’m sure this is a lot for you, so we’ll take it slow. You don’t have to meet anyone else until you’re ready. And if you wanna just stay like this for a while, we can do that.”

With the ghost of a smile, Phil softly and sincerely whispers, “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” Dream replies with a small smile, meaning every word as he continues, “I doubt you believe me yet, but I’m going to help you. I promise you that I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Instead of responding, Phil just slumps against Dream’s chest, letting those words wash over him.

Even though he doesn’t believe Dream, can’t possibly believe him after spending months in those cells, Phil likes how those words sound.

They’re sweet, kind, and nice, which is so unlike everything he’s known for so long.

After a while of simply basking in the sun as Dream holds him close, Phil feels much better, causing him to hesitantly ask, “Are we still going to bury the chains?”

“Of course,” Dream eagerly says, his words causing Phil’s chest to soar with hope. “Are you ready now?”

Without hesitation, Phil nods his head, so ready for the chains that have bound his wings for so long to be gone forever. 

Gently, Dream pulls back from Phil, giving the Elytrian a reassuring smile as he stands up, holding out a hand to help Phil to his feet. 

After only a few moments of uncertainty, Phil takes Dream’s gloved hand, smiling shyly as the man helps him to his feet.

While once again holding hands, the two finish making their way to the garden.

And for the first time in a very long time, Phil can’t seem to stop smiling, finding that he’s already starting to like Dream, especially if the man keeps treating him with so much kindness.

Chapter Text

“How does this spot look?” Dream asks with a smile as he and Phil stop in one of the more secluded sections of the Palace garden, the area surrounded on all sides by lush, shimmering green trees and, in the center where they stand, is a circle of sixteen tulips. 

After a few moments of just looking around the garden with wonder in his eyes, Phil eagerly nods his head, the Elytrian’s excitement causing Dream to smile wider.

As Dream sets the box with the chains down on the ground near the flowers, he questions while pointing at a nearby tree, “Would you mind grabbing me the shovel while I get a flower pot? It should be just behind that tree.”

With wide, disbelieving eyes, Phil stares at Dream, opening and closing his mouth uselessly as he tries to find the right words to say.

Mistaking Phil’s confusion for refusal, Dream quickly backtracks, “If you don’t feel comfortable grabbing it, you can just wait here while I get them both.”

“No, no, that’s fine, just…” Phil hurriedly says, not at all minding grabbing the shovel, but he just can’t understand why Dream would ask that of him, causing him to hesitantly continue, “You’re… okay with that? You’d let me be around a shovel?”

As Dream’s features soften, finally understanding Phil’s hesitation, he steps toward the Elytrian, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder while saying, “Of course, Phil. I trust you. You told me that you wouldn’t hurt me, and I believe you.” 

“No one ever believes me,” Phil mutters under his breath as a few tears begin to slip down his cheeks, feeling absolutely wrecked after hearing Dream so easily put faith in him, especially when, so many times, trying to explain or defend himself just led to worse punishments. 

Upon hearing that admission, Dream feels his heart absolutely shatter, causing him to pull Phil into a tight hug.

“Things will be different here, I promise,” Dream whispers as he rests his chin on top of Phil’s head, allowing him to feel the way the Elytrian’s entire body relaxes as he slumps into Dream’s embrace.

After a few seconds of just basking in the feeling of Dream’s arms around him, Phil hesitantly pulls back from their hug, instead approaching the tree that the shovel rests against.

And if Dream notices how Phil takes a few moments to stand behind the tree and wipe away his tears, he’ll just pretend like he didn’t see a thing.

While carrying the flower pot with a white tulip, Dream returns to the circle of flowers at the same time Phil arrives with the shovel. 

After setting the pot down on top of the box, Dream holds out his hand toward Phil for the shovel and, much to his surprise, the Elytrian hands it to him without a second of hesitation.

“Thank you,” Dream sincerely says, knowing how scary it must be for Phil to give him the shovel when it could be used to harm him, yet he did so without hesitation. 

In response, Phil simply nods his head in acknowledgment, then sits down next to a nearby tree, leaning his side against it as he watches Dream begin digging a hole.

After a while of sitting in companionable silence as Dream continues digging, Phil hesitatingly questions, “Dream? Can I ask you something?”

While looking up from the hole to meet Phil’s eyes, Dream replies without hesitation, “Of course. You can ask me anything you want to, I promise I won’t get mad.”

With a small, relieved smile over Dream’s response, Phil curiously asks, "Why did the bee hybrid say he loved the flower thing? Have you done this before?"

"How many flowers are there besides ours?" Dream asks with a grin as he resumes digging. 

After a few moments spent counting, double and triple-checking to make sure he didn’t mess up, Phil finally says, "Sixteen?" 

"Yep,” Dream happily says, winking at Phil as he continues, “You're lucky number seventeen." 

For a few moments, Phil stays quiet, trying to understand what Dream could possibly mean by that.

Will this be the 17th flower he’s planted with someone?

Does that mean…

"You've done this with sixteen other hybrids before me?" Phil asks in a low, awe-filled whisper, everything slowly starting to fall into place. 

If that’s true, that means that this isn’t just a one-off thing…

Dream didn’t just see him and take pity on him and want to help him…

No, he’s helped so many hybrids… 

"Sure have," Dream confirms with a smirk as he puts down the shovel, the hole finally big enough for the box and flower. 

Now that Dream’s finished digging, Phil stands up and grabs the box with the flower on top, bringing it over to him so it can be planted.

Phil holds out the stuff to Dream, but the man doesn’t take it, instead softly asking, “Wanna help me plant it?”

Slowly, hesitantly, Phil nods his head, his agreeance causing Dream to smile widely as he launches into an explanation, “Okay, so first, we’re gonna put the box in, and then cover it with a layer of dirt. Then, we’ll take the flower out of the pot and put it on top. And after that we’ll fill it in with the dirt I dug out.”

While nodding once again, Phil kneels in the dirt next to Dream, slowly placing the box with chains in the hole before they start covering it with dirt.

As Dream places the flower in the hole, Phil softly asks, "Is the bee hybrid one of the hybrids you’ve done this with?" 

With a fond smile as they begin scooping up dirt and putting it around the flower roots, Dream cheerily says, "Yep, Tubbo was actually the one who suggested that I do this, and I have ever since." 

"And you've planted flowers for all of these hybrids?" Phil questions in that same awe-filled tone from earlier, not understanding why Dream would put so much effort into helping hybrids. 

When Dream nods with a wide smile, Phil can’t help but ask in a confused tone, "Why?"

"Well, for lots of reasons,” Dream starts to say with a shrug, fluffing up some dirt as he does so. “One, it's a bonding exercise. After all, how scary could I be if we're literally kneeling in the dirt together to plant a pretty flower?"

Caught off guard by Dream’s words, a small huff of laughter escapes Phil, the first sound of joy he’s made since he got captured and locked in the cells.

"Second, it's liberating,” Dream continues with a massive smile, his heart absolutely soaring with happiness after making Phil laugh, no matter how small and quiet the sound was. “It allows people to, quite literally, bury the chains that once held them captive, those awful things never to be used again.”

“And lastly, it lets us take something horrible and make it into something beautiful,” Dream softly finishes as he reaches out a gloved hand toward the newly-planted tulip, gently brushing a finger against the delicate petals. “People who see my part of the garden just see a circle of flowers. But every single flower tells the story of someone I've helped. Each flower shows that our future is what defines us, not our pasts. It's a way to take the hurt we've experienced and turn it into something beautiful."

"Wow…” Phil murmurs as he stares wide-eyed at Dream, releasing a low, disbelieving chuckle as he continues, “Are you actually real? I’ve heard stories about people who help hybrids, but…” 

The I never thought I’d get this lucky goes unsaid, but they both understand what Phil’s getting at. 

“I’m real,” Dream earnestly replies without hesitation, moving his hand away from the flower petal to instead take one of Phil’s hands to hold it gently in his own. “You’re safe now, Phil. You’re never going to be treated like that again, I promise.” 

“Thank you, thank you so much,” Phil chokes out against the tightness in his throat as tears rush to his eyes. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay-” 

“You don’t have to repay me,” Dream gently interrupts, wanting to make it clear to Phil that the man never, ever has to repay him or owes him anything. “I’m helping you because it’s the right thing to do. Helping you heal so you can one day fly again is more than enough payment.” 

“You’re amazing,” Phil sincerely mutters as he looks Dream in the eyes, seeing nothing but kindness and understanding in his emerald-green gaze. “Seriously, you’ve just changed my whole life. I’d been there for so long, and then when they said they were gonna sell me I got so scared-” 

“Shhhh, you aren’t there anymore,” Dream kindly reminds Phil as he pulls the Elytrian into a hug, holding him close as he promises, “You’re never going back there again.” 

“Thank you,” Phil whispers as he buries his face against Dream’s chest, tears falling freely as he clutches tightly to Dream’s back. 

“You don’t have to keep thanking me, but you’re welcome,” Dream softly says with a sad little smile as he begins rubbing comforting circles on Phil’s lower back. 

Phil just slumps fully against Dream’s chest, wrapping his wings around them both, the feeling of Phil’s soft, warm wings around him causing Dream to chuckle fondly. 

After a while of just hugging each other, Dream pulls back and says, “Come on, let’s go get you a bath. I’m sure you’d like your wings to be clean.” 

Eagerly, Phil rapidly nods his head, desperately wanting to get all the dirt and grime off, especially the many layers of filth clinging to his wings.

“Let’s go then,” Dream says with a reassuring smile as he stands up, holding out his hand to help Phil up too.

And when Phil takes his hand without a moment of hesitation, Dream smiles widely, ecstatic that, once again, he’s gained another friend in this garden filled with seventeen beautiful flowers, just like all the magnificent people each one represents. 

Chapter Text

As Phil takes a much-needed bath, Dream makes his way to the Palace kitchen, wanting to get them both some soup, knowing that the poor, skinny Elytrian could certainly use a good, hearty meal. 

After traveling down a few hallways, Dream is suddenly startled from his thoughts of Phil when a loud voice shouts “BOO!” as a familiar figure pops out of the wall a few blocks in front of him. 

While clutching his chest and yelping in surprise, Dream stumbles back a few steps, the hand not resting on his heart automatically dipping down to his hip where his sword would normally reside.

When his furiously pounding heart calms enough for Dream to hear more than the blood rushing in his ears, he finally registers the person's loud, high-pitched laughter, the sound causing him to roll his eyes as he approaches the figure on their knees because they're laughing too hard to even stand up.

“Haha, very funny, Wil,” Dream mutters as he closes the distance between them, standing beside the phantom-hybrid who’s still dying of laughter. 

Like most phantom-hybrid’s, Wilbur’s skin is a pale, translucent, nearly-gray color. His body is covered in a thick layer of clothing to help protect against the sun, including a white turtleneck, dark brown pants, combat boots, and leather gloves, both him and Dream refusing to go anywhere without their gloves on. His deep brown eyes shine with mirth and mischief as he continues laughing at Dream, his light brown, curly bangs flopping into his face and covering one of his eyes as he shakes from laughter, the sight causing Dream to once again roll his eyes fondly at his friend. 

“Oh… you should’ve… seen… your face,” Wilbur chokes out in between giggles, clutching his stomach as he continues laughing uncontrollably, Dream’s playful scowl only making him wheeze harder. 

“You’re such a child,” Dream adamantly says as he stares down at Wilbur, but, despite his harsh words, he tries his best to fight back a smile, always enjoying the sound of his friend’s laughter.

As Wilbur finally calms down, allowing him to stand up and brush himself off, the phantom-hybrid says with a cheeky smile, “Oh, Little Dreamie, clearly you forget which one of us is older. If anyone’s a child, that’d be you.”

“You might be older, but somehow Tommy acts more mature than you,” Dream teases with a smirk, smiling widely at the offended gasp his words create.

“You take that back,” Wilbur commands through gritted teeth as he glares at Dream, refusing to let the man tell him that his younger brother is more mature than him.

“Why don’t you make me?” Dream challenges with a raised eyebrow, feeling like he needs some way to release some of the stress and tension created from doing his best to help Phil, and what better way to relieve that feeling than some friendly competition with Wil?

“Oh, you’re on,” Wilbur replies while chuckling eagerly, disappearing into the floor the second those words leave his lips.

Moments later, Wilbur pops out of the ground behind Dream, allowing him to tackle his friend to the quartz floor below. 

And that’s how the two end up wrestling on the Palace floors, several servants walking by the duo without even batting an eye, everyone already used to them having sparring matches in the hallways. 

Finally, the two come to a stop, both of them panting and grinning like idiots as they lay on their backs in the hallway, a thin sheen of sweat covering each of them.

Once Dream catches his breath, he can’t help but cheekily say, “I definitely won that.”

Abruptly, Wilbur sits up, glaring down at his friend as he pouts.

After a few moments of Wil not saying anything, Dream cracks open a tired eye, allowing him to see Wilbur over-dramatically flipping him off with both hands, the sight causing him to chuckle fondly as he reaches out a hand to smack the phantom-hybrid. 

While chuckling too, Wilbur lays down again, moving so his side is pressed against Dream’s, allowing each of them to feel the familiar, comforting heat of the other.

“So, why’d you want me to fight you?” Wil curiously asks after a few moments of just basking in the companionable silence of their impromptu sparring session. 

With a heavy sigh, his smile fading slightly, Dream hesitantly begins, “Rescued someone new today. It could’ve been worse, but it’s always so stressful at first. I hate seeing people in pain.”

“I know you do, but I’m sure you’re really helping them,” Wil says with an encouraging smile as he turns toward Dream, taking the man’s gloved hand and holding in his own. “You’ve got this, Dream. You’re so good at this. You helped me, Tommy, Techno, Tubbo, Ranboo, and so many others too. You’re amazing, Dre.”

“Thanks, Wil,” Dream murmurs sincerely with a small, shy smile as he gives Wilbur’s hand an appreciative squeeze. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

With a cheeky smile, Wilbur teasingly says, “Well, you probably wouldn’t be laying on the floor in the middle of the hallway, covered in sweat if it weren’t for me.”

“Fuck you,” Dream bites out under his breath as he playfully slaps Wilbur’s arm, his words causing Wil to release a bubbly chuckle that makes his bangs flop in front of his face, covering one of his kind, deep brown eyes.

Then, as Dream’s tone turns much softer and fond, he sincerely continues, “Seriously, Wil, I’m really glad you’re my friend.”

“Me too, Dre, me too,” Wilbur softly says in reply as he wraps an arm around Dream’s shoulder, pulling the man close to his chest.

While releasing a content sigh, Dream buries his face in Wilbur’s chest, the coarse fabric of his white turtle-neck tickling his cheek, but he doesn’t mind it one bit, just happy to spend this time with Wil. 

In a few minutes, he’ll actually go to the kitchen to get some soup for him and Phil, but, right now, he’s just gonna enjoy the feeling of being held firmly in the warm, soothing embrace of his best friend. 

Chapter Text

Eight Months Ago…

With a heavy, weary sigh, Dream walks through the woods neighboring the Kinoko Kingdom Palace, exhausted after a long day of trying to locate another group of hunters illegally capturing and selling hybrids. 

When he’s about ten minutes away from the Palace, he hears a loud, blood-curdling scream of pure agony, the sound making him pause mid-step, instantly on high alert. 

After a few moments of listening intently, Dream faintly hears the sound of shouting, followed by another ear-shattering scream that quickly causes him to spring into action, bursting through the foliage and sprinting toward the sound without any regard for stealth, knowing that someone is hurting and he needs to help them now. 

Finally, Dream locates the source of that awful screaming, finding himself in a part of the woods that is much less dense, the more scattered population of trees allowing sunlight to bear down on the ground when it otherwise wouldn’t.

And directly in the path of the sun is a phantom-hybrid pinned to the dirt below by several hunters, non-stop screams emitting from him as his pale, translucent skin sizzles and burns in the afternoon sunlight. 

Without another thought or moment of hesitation, Dream sprints toward the group, pulling out his axe and slicing through the five hunters with deadly precision, the weapon simply an extension of himself as he ends their lives within mere seconds.

Quickly, Dream sends his axe back into his inventory, roughly shoving the dead bodies off of the man, whose mouth is open in silent screams, too hurt and delirious with pain to even think of moving now that the people that held him down are gone. 

As a few muttered curses slip from Dream’s lips, he scoops the man into his arms, hurriedly carrying the hybrid into the shade so the sun will no longer sear his fragile skin.

Weak, pained whines and whimpers escape him, the sound causing Dream to whisper apologies as he pulls a bucket of water out of his inventory, slowly pouring the liquid over the worst burns to help soothe the fire consuming the man's limbs from the merciless sun that tore his flesh to shreds. 

After a few moments of tending to the man, the ferocious pounding of blood in Dream’s ears from his rapidly-beating heart dissipates, some of his adrenaline wearing off now that he knows that the hybrid is relatively safe.

Now that Dream can hear more than just his too-fast heartbeat, his brain finally registers the sound of a voice loudly shouting with venom and anger in his tone, “Oi, get away from him! Leave him alone, or I’ll fucking kill you!” 

Instantly, Dream jumps to his feet, his axe reappearing as he assesses the woods for whatever this new threat might be.

It takes a few moments, but Dream notices that, a few feet away from the pile of dead bodies, there's a teenage boy, his arms and chest tied to a tree by harsh ropes that leave his skin reddened and raw while also causing his white, maroon-tipped wings to press uncomfortably against the rough tree bark. 

As Dream’s face softens, he puts away his axe, raising his hands in a placating gesture and approaching the avian-hybrid while softly saying, “Hey, it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you or your friend here. My name's Dream, and I just wanna help you guys.”

“Stay away from me, you green fuck!” Tommy screams as he begins shaking violently, tears rushing to his eyes against his will because, even though he’s a very big man, he watched the guy coming toward him kill five people without a moment of hesitation or difficulty. 

Despite the boy’s shouting, Dream keeps moving toward him, only stopping when he’s kneeling beside him.

Carefully, gently, Dream reaches toward the boy and begins untying the rope, smiling sadly when his baby blue eyes widen in shock. 

The second he’s free, Tommy jumps to his feet, flapping his wings a little to keep his balance as a wave of dizziness threatens to bring him to his knees, then he sprints over to Wilbur and quickly kneels beside him.

When Dream kneels beside the man again, he hears the boy muttering in a low, fearful tone, “Wil, Wil, hey, we gotta go. Fucking get up, it isn’t safe here.”

While keeping his voice soft and gentle, Dream slowly says, “Kid, they held him down in direct sunlight. If he could move, don’t you think he’d have already phased through the ground to get out of here? He is a phantom-hybrid, isn’t he?”

“Shut up, you don’t know shit about hybrids!” Tommy growls as he continues staring at Wilbur, refusing to take his eyes off his brother in a futile attempt at being prepared for when this bastard decides to hurt them too. “Those chains they put on him are made out of obsidian, so he can’t do a damn thing.”

The second Dream notices the crude, constricting chains on the man’s wrists, preventing him from moving his arms away from where they’re pinned behind his back, or phasing through the ground to get away, Dream releases a sympathetic wince, feeling sorry for the poor hybrids in front of him, especially since the avian seems so young, the other not much older than him. 

“If you two come with me, we can get those chains off him and put some cream on his burns so they don’t scar as badly,” Dream proposes with a small, nervous smile, certain that the fiery boy will refuse, but the man on the ground looks like he’s seconds away from passing out, and he’d love nothing more than to take him back to the Palace, wrap him in his arms, and promise to never let anyone hurt him like this again. 

“Fuck no, I ain’t trusting no hu-man,” Tommy adamantly says without hesitation, drawing out the last word in a tone laced with disgust and pure hatred, knowing that, even though this green-wearing bastard hasn’t hurt them yet, he will, because that’s what all humans do. 

As Dream’s voice takes on a slightly harsh, challenging edge, he asks with a raised eyebrow, “How are you going to get those chains off him? The Palace has the best blacksmiths in all of Kinoko Kingdom, you really think you can do better than that?”

“You’re from the Palace?” Tommy asks in a low, awe-filled tone, his eyes shimmering with child-like wonder that’s so different from the anger they held moments ago, absolutely shocked that this man could have been to the Palace, the one place that every hybrid wistfully talks about going to, but most never make it there. 

“Yep, I’m best friends with King George,” Dream says with a small smile, still feeling so fortunate that he’s friends with George; kingship aside, he’s a damn good friend, and Dream wouldn’t wanna trade that for anything. 

“Wait, you’re that Dream?!” Tommy asks in a loud, shocked tone, having seen on tv a man named Dream stand beside the king, just there the whole time entirely unmoving, a creepy, weird-ass smiley face mask plastered to his face at all times. “Where’s that ugly-ass mask you always wear?!”

“Oh, I don’t actually wear it,” Dream says with a shrug, then he continues with a smirk, “I just use it to intimidate the shit out of everyone so they don’t try to hurt George.”

After hearing Dream’s response, Tommy can’t help but chuckle, then, while hoping that he doesn’t regret his next words, he commands in a firm tone that leaves no room for argument: “Well, I need to see for myself if the Palace looks as poggers as it does on tv. And we gotta help my shit older brother.”

With a heavy, relieved sigh, glad that the boy is agreeing to come with him so he can help the phantom-hybrid, Dream pulls a blanket from his inventory, something he always keeps on him in case Ranboo starts to panic, then he drapes the soft material over the man and carefully scoops him into his arms, the gentle fabric keeping him safe from the sun without agitating his blistering skin. 

Before Dream can start walking toward the Palace, Tommy steps in front of him, standing on his tippy toes to be the slightest bit taller than Dream as he threatens through gritted teeth, “If you hurt Wil, I’ll fucking murder you, got it?”

“I understand,” Dream earnestly replies without hesitation, deciding that it would be better to just go along with what the kid says than to point out that there’s literally no way he could kill him. “Thank you for trusting me. I promise you that we’ll get your brother healed up in no time.”

“You better,” Tommy demands as he jabs a finger at Dream’s chest, spewing out loads of curses when the man simply raises an eyebrow and smirks at his extremely threatening nature. 

As the kid keeps spitting every curse word known to man, Dream simply begins walking back to the Palace, carefully cradling the unconscious man to his chest while making sure no sunlight sneaks under the blanket to touch his skin. 

While Dream simply thought that he was helping out the two brothers so they could go off on their own again once the phantom-hybrid healed, he ended up gaining two new friends, ones who definitely make his life much louder and more interesting in the best way possible. 

Chapter Text

Eight Months Ago…

With a loud groan, Wilbur slowly cracks open tired eyes, his entire body burning like it's on fire, each and every limb feeling too heavy to move even the slightest bit.

It takes a few moments for his vision to focus, but once it does he's met with unfamiliar surroundings, his heart leaping into his throat when he sees fancy tapestries covering the purple walls of the room, plush carpet on the floor below him and the comfiest bed he's ever laid on beneath him.

"What the fuck," Wilbur mutters under his breath, wondering why the hell it looks like he woke up in a fucking mansion, especially since the last thing he remembers is Tommy and him desperately scrounging the woods for food, both of them on the brink of starving. 

Before Wilbur can panic anymore, the door to the room slowly opens and in pokes Tommy's head, his face lacking the usual layers of dirt and grime, the sight of his little brother making him smile weakly.

"Wilby, you're awake!" Tommy cheers as he rushes over to the bed, just barely refraining from flinging himself at his brother in a tight hug. "Don't you fucking do that again!"

"What'd I do?" Wilbur softly asks, his words slightly slurred together, his tongue feeling as heavy as lead, much like the rest of his body. 

"You took those hunters attention off me, and then they fucked you up real bad," Tommy mutters with an annoyed huff, but he can't help but be thankful Wil did that, especially since one of those hunters had been coming toward his wings with a dagger, and nothing good could come from that. 

"Explains why I feel like shit," Wilbur mumbles as his eyes slip shut again, feeling far too heavy, but also kinda floaty, to keep them open.

Even though Tommy wants to keep talking, especially since his brother has been asleep for days, he can see the bone-deep tiredness and pain on Wil's face, the sight causing him to say in an uncharacteristically soft voice, "Get some sleep, Wil. I'll stay here with you."

Without needing to be told twice, Wilbur drifts off to sleep in a few moments, his battered body desperately needing the rest.

The next time Wilbur wakes up, it's to the sound of hushed voices speaking, one of them belonging to Tommy, and the other from a voice he's never heard before.

"Toms?" Wilbur groggily calls out, too tired to open his eyes, instead choosing to just keep laying in the cushy bed without moving a muscle.

"Hey, Wil," Tommy greets with a small smile as he stands up from the chair he was sitting in on the other side of the room, instead moving to the foot of the bed. "How you feeling, Big Man?"

"Shitty," Wilbur mumbles, the word partially swallowed by the pillow pressed against his cheek, his response causing both Tommy and Dream to chuckle.

After hearing that other person laugh, once again reminding Wil that some fucking stranger was in here while he slept, he questions, "Who that?"

"Oh, that's Dream!" Tommy explains with a grin, having gotten much closer to Dream in the days he waited for Wilbur to finally wake up. "He's fucking awesome! He totally saved your ass from those hunters, you should've seen the way he killed all five of them in a second and then pulled you away to safety. It was so fucking badass!" 

While most of Tommy's words simply go over his head, too exhausted to properly process them, Wilbur understands that Dream's the reason why he's still alive and, instead of being trapped in a cage by those hunters, he's resting in a nice, soft bed.

So, with a shaky little smile, Wilbur tiredly yet sincerely says, "Thanks, Dream."

"You're welcome," Dream replies without hesitation, a small, sad smile slipping onto his features as he continues, "I'm glad I could help you guys out there. Hunters fucking suck."

"Damn right they do," Tommy agrees without hesitation, his words drawing a soft chuckle out of Dream and a small smile from Wil. 

Even though Wilbur wants to keep talking, wants to ask more about their mysterious savior, exhaustion tugs him back into the world of unconsciousness, far too hurt and tired to stay awake any longer.

A few days later, Wilbur wakes up again feeling much stronger than he has lately, most of his pain fading into a dull thrum rather than the constant agony it was before.

Slowly, Wilbur sits up, his body protesting the movement, but he pushes past anyway, knowing that they have to get out of here, and fast.

He doesn't know what this Dream guy wants or why the hell he saved them, but Wil isn't gonna stick around long enough to find out. 

With trembling, shaky legs, Wilbur stands up, his toes sinking into the plush carpet, the soft material making him want to curl up and lay down again, but he pushes that feeling aside, knowing that they need to escape before Dream hurts them too. 

Wilbur takes an unsteady step forward, then immediately falls flat on his face, too weak to keep himself upright for more than a few seconds, let alone long enough to walk. 

As he hits the floor, despite it being soft carpet, a choked scream tears through his throat, the harsh landing creating friction across many of the burns littering his skin, the bandages doing little to protect him against falling like that.

While feeling stupid and helpless, Wilbur tries to push himself off the ground, but his arms don't comply, all his strength already spent and his wrists aching terribly from the chains that the hunters had put on him, which he realizes are somehow gone now.

"Tommy!" Wilbur shouts as a few tears begin to slip from his eyes, feeling absolutely pathetic that he has to call for his little brother to pick him up off the ground, but he'd rather that than let Dream see him like this and take advantage of his vulnerability. 

A few moments later, the door opens, relief flooding him only to be snuffed out a second later when a man with emerald-green eyes, dirty blonde hair, dark pants and boots, and a lime-green hoodie steps inside, the sight telling him that this must be Dream. 

Dream's alone with him in this room, and he's stuck on the floor, tears steadily leaking from his eyes while he's helpless to stop it, just like how he's unable to stand up.

"Here, let's get you back on the bed," Dream says in a low, soothing tone, frowning at the way Wilbur flinches violently when he tries to step closer to the man.

"Get the fuck away from me," Wilbur growls, but he sounds much less fierce when half his face is smushed against the carpet, tears still rapidly cascading down his cheeks.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you," Dream softly says as he sits down a few blocks away from Wilbur, raising his gloved hands in a placating gesture. "I just want to help you."

With a bitter laugh that speaks from experience, Wilbur firmly says, "No, you really don't. I've seen this before. You act all nice at first, and then the pain is always worse when you turn out to be cruel."

Then, as Wilbur closes his eyes against the still falling tears, he whispers in a resigned, defeated tone, "If you want someone to hurt, please, just do it to me. Don't hurt Tommy, he's still just a kid. Please."

While feeling his heart absolutely shatter at Wilbur's words, Dream closes the distance between them, carefully helping Wil sit up without agitating any of his burn wounds. 

Wilbur's body is tense, waiting for Dream to start hitting him at any moment, but the man doesn't strike him. Instead, he finds himself pressed against Dream's chest, warm, comforting arms wrapped around him in a hug.

And, even though he doesn't trust Dream for a single second, Wilbur instantly slumps into his embrace, the hug reminding him of when his dad gave him such wonderful hugs, before he was captured by hybrid hunters last month; even though they've been looking for their father and his best friend almost non-stop, he and Tommy haven't found any sign of either of them, their hopes, and chances of surviving on their own, diminishing each day that their family spends apart. 

After a few moments of just sitting in silence as they continue hugging, Dream softly and sincerely murmurs, "I promise you that you two are safe here. We're in the Kinoko Kingdom Palace, which is the safest place for hybrids. No one will hurt you here, but especially not me."

"Why should I believe you?" Wilbur asks in a low, weak tone, his mind reeling over the thought of being inside the Palace, especially since Tommy has always dreamed of coming here. 

"I don't expect you to yet," Dream replies without hesitation, knowing that, if he's able to gain their trust, it'll definitely take a while. "If you stick around though, I promise you and Tommy will be taken care of. We have plenty of food, clothes, rooms, and if there's anything else you need we'd find a way to get it for you."

"That sounds nice," Wilbur can't help but mutter, unable to deny that it would be great if they didn't have to fight to survive each day, this last month of the two fending for themselves having been absolute hell.

Finally, in a firm, unwavering tone, Wilbur states, "I'll stay on one condition: you help me find our dad and his best friend. They were captured by hunters about a month ago and we haven't been able to find them."

"Of course, I'll make sure you find them, no matter how long it takes," Dream adamantly promises without hesitation, his words causing a huge weight to lift from Wilbur's chest.

He still doesn't trust Dream, but the thought of not being alone anymore, the thought of it not being him and Tommy against the world, brings Wil tremendous relief. 

"Thank you," Wilbur sincerely whispers as he rests his head against Dream's chest, his ear pressed over the kind man's heart.

Instead of saying anything in response, Dream just holds him a little closer, vowing to himself that, no matter what it takes, he'll protect them and help reunite their family, something that still holds true many months later. 

Chapter Text

“Need any help in there, Phil?” Dream calls out as he enters his bedroom, a bowl of stew in each hand that he sets down on the oak bedside table, the beef and vegetables filling the air with a pleasant aroma. 

“Uh, yeah, could you give me a hand, Mate?” Phil hesitantly asks, a part of him terribly nervous, and mortified, at the thought of Dream helping him take a bath, but he knows that there’s no way he’ll be able to get his wings clean without help, especially since they’ve been totally neglected for so long.

“Of course,” Dream easily replies as he moves to stand outside the bathroom door, his hand hovering over the knob as he questions, “Can I come inside?”

Once Phil confirms that he can enter, Dream slowly opens the door, allowing him to see the Elytrian sitting on the edge of the bathtub, clad in a clean pair of black shorts that Dream left for him before going to the kitchen. As he notices the many bruises littering the man’s exposed stomach, Dream can’t help but wince in sympathy, certain that those must really hurt. Even though Phil looks like he’s in pain, some wounds even needing to be bandaged, he’s much cleaner than he was earlier, and that’s always a good start. 

He looks sparkling clean, except for his wings, the feathers still covered in a thick layer of dirt and grime, many of which are in desperate need of a good preening too. 

Before Dream can spend any more time assessing the damage done to Phil’s wings and how to take care of them, the Elytrian awkwardly clears his throat before nervously asking, “Do you, um, know how to clean wings?”

For a few seconds, Dream just stares at Phil with wide eyes, certain that he misunderstood, that Phil isn’t about to ask him to help clean his wings, but, once he recovers from his shock, Dream answers truthfully, “I do. One of my friends is an avian, so I know how to preen and clean wings without causing any discomfort.”

As a terribly hopeful expression flitters across Phil’s features, the man softly questions, “Will you help me? It hurts when I try to do it by myself.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Dream easily says without hesitation but, as his tone takes on a slightly more vulnerable edge, he continues, “You’re really okay with me touching your wings?”

Without hesitation, Phil nods his head with a shy smile and honestly says, “I really want my wings to be cleaned. And you haven’t hurt me yet, so I think you aren’t going to do anything bad to my wings.”

“I would never,” Dream earnestly says as he kneels on the tile in front of Phil, smiling sadly at the man as he continues, “Your wings are amazing. I would never, ever do anything to hurt them, or any part of you.”

“Thank you,” Phil breathes out with a heavy sigh of relief, most of the tension dropping from his shoulders. “You’ll help clean them then?”

“Of course,” Dream agrees without hesitation, rising to his feet and rolling up his sweatpants before stepping into the tub behind Phil.

As he begins fiddling with the faucet, trying to get the right water temperature, Dream gently asks, “Is this okay? If you don’t like me being behind you, we can try to do this some other way…”

“No, just…” Phil shakily starts to say, pausing for a few moments out of nervousness before requesting in a weak tone, “Please, don’t hurt them. I’m already missing so many feathers, pl-ple-”

“Hey, hey, Phil, it’s okay,” Dream softly assures Phil as he sits on the side of the tub beside the man, allowing Phil to see how Dream’s gloved hands are raised in a placating gesture and not holding anything that would hurt him. “I promise I’m not gonna hurt your wings.”

Then, getting an idea, Dream gently proposes, “Here, how about you sit sideways? That way you can see what I’m doing while I work on each wing.”

After a few moments of hesitation, Phil nods his head, then he changes positions, sitting so one foot rests inside the tub and the other on the bathroom tile.

“Better?” Dream asks with a small, reassuring smile as he stands up, feeling relieved when Phil nods his head while looking up at him.

While still smiling slightly, Dream grabs the soap meant for winged-hybrids, something he keeps inside his bathroom since Tommy insists on using Dream’s for the occasional bath since it’s ‘so fucking poggers’ compared to the smaller bathtub in his own room.

As Dream squirts the soap onto his gloved hands, Phil watches with furrowed eyebrows, some of his fear melting away in favor of confusion, causing him to hesitantly ask, “You’re keeping your gloves on?”

“Yep,” Dream simply says while popping the p, afterward smirking as his response makes Phil look even more confused.

But, before Phil can ask Dream further questions, the man begins gently cleaning his left wing, the sensation of a hand tenderly brushing against his feathers, rather than the awful ripping and tearing that he’s so used to, draws a loud, needy whine from his throat.

Immediately, Dream’s hand stills, pulling back slightly as he asks, “Phil? You okay?”

“Good, Mate,” Phil softly says with a blissed-out smile, a happy chirp escaping in between his words. “Really fucking good.”

With a fond chuckle, Dream resumes cleaning Phil’s wings, grinning widely when the Elytrian starts releasing a continuous string of happy, content chirps, each little sound making Dream’s heart soar with joy and the desire to protect this man forever and ever, to never let anyone else harm these gorgeous wings again.

After a while of cleaning that wing, Dream carefully rinses all the soap and grime off, then coaxes Phil to turn so he can repeat the process.

When Dream is almost halfway done with cleaning Phil’s other wing, he notices the Elytrian’s chirps decreasing in frequency, instead being replaced by occasional whines and whimpers.

Feeling concerned, Dream stops touching the man’s wings, crouching down to his level as he softly questions, “You still good, Phil?”

Phil simply releases a loud, high-pitched whine, unsure what’s happening. All he knows is that the hands on his wings feel nice, really nice, and he never wants them to leave but he also feels really sleepy and he wants flock to hold him close as he falls asleep and keep touching his wings so nicely when he wakes up agai-

“You seem tired,” Dream softly says in a kind, understanding tone, noticing the way Phil’s eyes keep slipping shut before flying open again, as if he’s struggling to stay away. “You can go to sleep if you want. I’ll take care of you.”

Without needing to be told twice, Phil lets his eyes slide closed, slumping forward into the embrace of flock, knowing that they’ll keep him safe.

As Phil’s head rests against his chest, Dream chuckles fondly, carefully standing up and repositioning Phil so the man’s head leans against his stomach, that position still giving him access to the Elytrian’s wings so he can finish cleaning them.

Every once and a while, Phil releases a soft, happy chirp in his sleep, each sound creating a large grin on Dream’s face as he continues gently and meticulously cleaning the man’s wings.

When Dream finally finishes cleaning and rinsing off Phil’s wings, he carefully scoops the man into his arms, uncaring of the giant wet spot his wings create against his clothes.

While being sure not to wake the sleeping Elytrian, Dream lays him down on top of his bed, positioning him so his wings will be able to dry without being crushed by any part of his body.

“Sleep well, Phil,” Dream softly says with a smile as he brushes a stray lock of hair out of the man’s face, chuckling softly when the sleeping man releases another content chirp from that touch. 

As Dream grabs his stew and settles down in the corner of his room to eat, he notes that, once the Elytrian wakes up again, he’ll have to go to the kitchen to get it warmed up, wanting Phil to be able to eat a nice, filling, warm meal now that he’s finally safe and free again.

Once he’s finished with his stew, Dream stands up, getting ready to leave so he can bring his bowl to the Palace kitchen to be cleaned, but he catches movement out of the corner of his eye that draws his attention. 

In his sleep, Phil reaches out his hand and clutches the bed sheets tightly, as if he’s trying to grab something, the sight making Dream frown in concentration. 

Would Phil feel safer if he could hold something in his sleep?

Hmmm…

Oh, maybe Ranboo has a plushie that he wouldn’t mind giving to Phil!

A few months ago, Wilbur picked up crocheting and, after he discovered how much Ranboo loved the little blue sheep he made, it became the phantom-hybrid’s mission to create one of each animal he’s seen to give to Ranboo.

With a plan in mind, Dream quietly leaves the room in search of Ranboo, smiling fondly once again at the Elytrian sleeping soundly on his bed as he softly closes his bedroom door. 

Chapter Text

“Ranboo, you in there?” Dream softly calls out as he quietly knocks on the enderman-hybrid’s door, trying not to be too loud to make sure he doesn’t startle Ranboo.

Ranboo releases a soft vwoop in reply, the sound causing Dream to open the door with a smile, thankful that Ranboo’s letting him come inside, especially since he knows that very few have the privilege of entering Ranboo’s room.

“Hey, Buddy, how you doing?” Dream asks with his smile still in place, softly shutting the door behind him, engulfing the bedroom in darkness, but he doesn’t mind, especially since he knows that’s what Ranboo likes best.

Tired. Ranboo simply replies in ender, fighting back a yawn from where he lays on his bed, surrounded by a nest of plushies of a wide variety of different animals, including a cow, two parrots, two sheep, a chicken, four endermen, an ender dragon, and a wolf. 

“Yeah, I bet,” Dream sympathetically says, knowing that this is about the time Ranboo usually goes to sleep, the enderman-hybrid often preferring to sleep during the day and stay awake at night because there's fewer people around then. “I’ll keep it quick so you can get some sleep. I was wondering if you’d be willing to share one of your plushies with the new hybrid I’m helping? I think it might help him sleep better.”

With a soft vwoop of understanding, knowing how hard it is to sleep without his plushies, Ranboo feels around his bed, trying to decide which one to give away.

After a while of careful consideration, Ranboo finally picks up one of his parrot plushies, this one a deep, dark blue. 

While teleporting over to Dream, Ranboo holds out the plushie toward the man, staring down at the ground to avoid eye contact as he asks, Do you think he’ll like this one?

For a few moments, Dream simply twists and turns the plushie in his hands, hardly able to see the little guy through the darkness but, once he feels a pair of wings, a massive grin splits across his face, knowing that this is the perfect plushie. 

“He’ll love it!” Dream confidently says with his smile still in place, excited to be able to give Phil a winged friend that he can snuggle with. “Thank you.”

You’re welcome. Ranboo says with a shy little smile, afterward teleporting back over to his bed. Glad I could help!

As Ranboo reaches for his favorite enderman plushie, his fingers brush against the ender dragon one, reminding him of the conversation he had with Wilbur when the man gave it to him.

“Hey, uh, Ranboo?” Wilbur nervously asked while approaching Ranboo in the hallways, carrying two new plushies in his hands.

Once Ranboo nodded to show he was listening, Wilbur shyly continued, “I made you another enderman plushie! I hope you like it!”

Ranboo grabbed the plushie with a wide smile, clutching it close to his chest and nodding eagerly but, once the man didn’t hand him the other one, he released a questioning vwoop.

“Yeah, you’re probably wondering about the other one I have,” Wilbur muttered with a nervous chuckle, running a hand through his messy hair as he continued, “Well, uh, this one I made for Dream. But, um, I’m too nervous to give it to him…”

“Want… me… to?” Ranboo slowly asked in common, the words feeling heavy and clunky on his tongue, but he just couldn’t let Wilbur be so nervous any longer.

“Could you?” Wilbur asked with a hopeful smile, some of his nervousness still present, but much less so now. “That would be amazing.”

Once Ranboo nodded his agreement, Wilbur released a heavy sigh and gratefully said, “Thank you so much, Ranboo. I really appreciate it! I know he’s gonna love it, I just… I don’t, I’m nervous. We’ve never really given each other gifts, but I wanted to make him this since he’s my best friend.”

With a wide smile, Ranboo grabbed the ender dragon plushie, releasing a soothing sound in ender, hoping that, even though Wilbur doesn’t know how to speak it, it’ll help him feel better. 

“Thanks again, Ranboo, and I’ll see you later!” Wilbur called out with a smile and a wave, afterward disappearing into the wall, the phantom-hybrid’s dramatic exit making Ranboo roll his eyes fondly. 

While running his fingers over the long, jet-black ender dragon wings, Ranboo hesitantly says: There’s one for you too. Wilbur wanted me to give it to you.

“What, really?” Dream asks in shock from where he stands next to the door, taking a hesitant step deeper into the room as he asks, “What is it?”

Ender dragon. It’s even got a little mask on the side of the head like the one you sometimes wear. Ranboo says as he gently strokes the plushie’s wings, afterward teleporting over to Dream.

With trembling hands, Dream accepts the plushie, a wide, disbelieving smile on his face as his thumb traces over the little smiley face mask the dragon has on the side of its head.

“This is wonderful,” Dream happily replies as he hugs the plushie close to his chest, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, so unused to receiving gifts, let alone one that clearly took so much time and effort. “Thanks for giving this to me, Boo. And I’ll be sure to thank Wil too next time I see him.”

You’re welcome! Glad you like it! Ranboo happily says as he teleports back into bed, tucking himself under the mountains of blankets and plushies.

After clearing his throat against the building tightness he feels, Dream softly says, “Night, Boo. Sleep well.”

Night. Ranboo murmurs in ender as his eyes slip shut, cuddling with his favorite enderman plushie with a smile on his face as he drifts off to sleep. 

While smiling fondly, Dream quietly leaves the room, the dark blue parrot plushie for Phil in one hand and his own still clutched tightly to his chest, the ender dragon’s wings resting right over his heart, making him feel protected and safe. 

When he returns to his room, Dream carefully places his ender dragon on the bedside table, then approaches Phil with the blue parrot. 

With a wide smile, Dream carefully slips the plushie under one of Phil’s arms, chuckling happily when the sleeping man pulls it close to his chest with a content coo.

Now that he knows that, for the time being, Phil is taken care of, exhaustion presses down heavily on Dream’s shoulders, making him want to sleep for days and days on end.

With a soft, tired sigh, Dream grabs his ender dragon plushie, plucks a light-purple pillow off of the chair in the room, then lays down on the floor a little ways away from the bed, not wanting to leave Phil alone to sleep in a real bed, worried that the man might have a nightmare.

As Dream’s eyes slowly slide shut, he tightly hugs the plushie, the feeling of the little mask pressed against his own face causing him to release a soft, watery chuckle, the tears he’s been fighting to shed finally racing down his cheeks and landing on top of the plushie.

“Thanks, Wil,” Dream sleepily murmurs as the tears continue to fall, knowing that the man can’t hear him, but hoping that he understands how much this gift truly means to him.

For the first time in a while, both the men in Dream’s room fall asleep feeling safe and cared for, each of them clutching tightly to their own plushies, the soft little guys helping them sleep soundly.

Chapter Text

For the first time in a very, very long time, Phil slowly wakes up to a peaceful world, surrounded by warmth and softness rather than the harsh bite of the cold metal that usually encases his fragile skin. 

With a small, sleepy smile, Phil burrows further under the blankets, a happy chirp escaping him as his eyes slowly slip shut again.

But, before falling back asleep, Phil hears a low, fearful whimper, that sound instantly putting him on high alert, remembering many nights in his cell when he tried his best to offer reassuring words to anyone he heard crying, wishing more than anything that he could escape the confines of his chains to wrap them in a much-needed hug.

Determined to help this hybrid however he can, Phil shifts positions, expecting chains to prevent him from going very far, but no such thing happens.

While blinking hard to clear away the lingering drowsiness he feels, Phil finally takes note of his surroundings, finding himself lying in the softest bed he’s ever felt, partially open curtains casting Dream’s bedroom in a soft, moonlit glow.

When Phil hears another whimper, this one sounding more terrified than before, he quickly throws aside the many blankets covering him and closes the distance between him and Dream, frowning in concern as his eyes rake over his pale, clammy skin, his heart aching with sympathy for the man who’s been nothing but kind to him.

While gently running his fingers through Dream’s hair, years of comforting his sons after a nightmare taking over, Phil softly murmurs to the sleeping man, “It’s okay, Mate. You’re alright, it’s just a nightmare.”

Instead of his words reassuring the man like he hoped, Dream violently flinches away from his touch, jolting awake with a hoarse, choked scream.

“Easy, Mate, you’re safe,” Phil gently says as he raises his hands in a placating gesture, but Dream just rapidly shakes his head as he scrambles backward, a terrified whine escaping him when his back hits the wall.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Phil promises in that same kind tone, a deep frown gracing his features as Dream continues shaking his head while trembling violently. “It’s just me, Phil. You remember me, right? I’m the Elytrian you’re helping.”

That finally seems to get Dream’s attention, the man’s teary emerald-green eyes meeting Phil’s, the sight causing the Elytrian to smile sadly. 

“Hey, Dream,” Phil softly says with his sad little smile still in place. “You okay?”

Instead of responding, Dream shakily rises to his feet, approaching the bedroom door and fumbling to get it open with trembling hands for several moments, afterward exiting the room without another word.

For a few moments, Phil considers going after the man to make sure he’s okay, but he decides against it, hoping that Dream went to find someone who can help him much better than he would be able to.

With a heavy sigh, Phil slowly stands up, his stiff limbs protesting the movement and his wings ruffling with agitation, feeling terribly uneasy now.

Whenever his sons had nightmares, he always knew the best way to help them. Even after all this time, he remembers that Wilbur always loved a glass of warm milk as they sat by the jukebox, listening to music discs for hours until Wil fell asleep in his arms. And after Tommy had a nightmare, he’d be left feeling shaky and restless, so Phil would always take to the sky, his younger son held tightly to his chest, the boy proudly proclaiming in between breathy laughs that one day he’d be even better at flying than Phil.

And how could he forget the nights when he’d wake to the sound of his best friend softly crying in bed beside him, the stubborn bunny-hybrid insisting on suffering alone instead of just waking him up. Most nights, he’d ask Techno to tell him a story about mythology that he’s heard hundreds of times before as a way to take the man’s mind off of whatever dream he just had. But, on particularly bad nights, he’d simply pull his best friend into his arms, wrapping his wings around the man as he whispered assurances that he was safe and loved.

He knows exactly what to do to help them all, but he’s only known Dream for a day, leaving him feeling terribly helpless and clueless on how to best deal with the man’s nightmare.

Before Phil can think about that any longer, he hears a distant voice call out from the direction of the balcony, “Hey, Dream, you awake?!” 

Feeling curious, and mildly concerned, Phil approaches the balcony door, drawing back the curtains and sliding open the glass door, smiling widely as the wind kisses his skin, his wings rising from where they rest behind his back, itching to take off into the night sky like he used to before getting captured.

“Oh, hi again, Bird Man!” Phil hears that same voice call out, causing him to look toward the ground and see the bee-hybrid he met in the garden standing down there. “Can you throw down the rope that’s up there?”

Even though Phil doesn’t really understand why, he does as the boy asked, watching as one end of rope stays connected to the rail, the other landing on the ground at the bee-hybrid’s feet.

As the bee-hybrid grabs the rope and begins climbing up the side of the wall, Phil can’t help but ask with an amused smile, “Wouldn’t it be better to just fly up here? Or use the door?”

“I can’t fly at night, it makes my wings all weak and shit,” the bee-hybrid replies as he continues climbing, his words causing Phil’s smile to widen, this boy reminding him a lot of Tommy. “And using the door is so basic and predictable. Everyone uses the door to get into rooms, it’s super boring.”

While chuckling fondly, Phil sits down on the balcony, reaching through the railing to help the bee-hybrid climb over once he makes it to the top.

With a breathless smile, the bee-hybrid lays down on the balcony and mutters, “That never gets old.”

“I take it you do this often?” Phil asks with his amused smile still in place, finding himself starting to like the strange bee-hybrid.

“Yeah, I usually spend most nights in Dream’s room,” the bee-hybrid easily says, his words causing Phil’s eyebrows to raise in surprise. “He keeps me company when I can’t sleep at night. I have a bit of insomnia. Which is ironic since I’m a bee, and bees really shouldn’t be out at night, but it works out because my friend Ranboo sleeps during the day, so we can spend time together at night. But sometimes he just wants to be alone, so that’s when I go to Dream, and Dream’s always super nice and really fun to talk to--I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

With a small chuckle, Phil honestly says, “It’s all good, Mate. I like listening to you talk. It’s been a while since I’ve just been able to speak to someone like this.”

“Well, if you want someone to talk to, I could just talk for hours,” the bee-hybrid eagerly says, sitting up on the balcony as he excitedly continues, “I have so many cool stories I could tell you! Oh, and do you like flowers?! I love flowers! I know so many different types! I could show you around the garden if you want to see some of them!” 

“That sounds great,” Phil murmurs with a shy smile, finding that, yeah, he really likes that idea. “I’m Phil, by the way.”

“I’m Tubbo!” The bee-hybrid happily says, holding out a hand for Phil to shake, which he does with his shy smile still in place. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Bird Man! Y’know, your name kinda sounds familiar… I don’t really know why though… Oh well, it probably isn’t a big deal if I don’t remember it! That’s what Ranboo always says. But, between you and me, he’s got some memory issues. Don’t tell him I said that though, he’ll kill me. Well, not actually, but you do not want to see a pissed-off enderman. Their jaws get all unhinged and shit, it’s super weird. Actually, maybe you do wanna see it, because it’s kinda cool too--I’ll stop talking now.”

“Nice to meet you too, Tubbo,” Phil says in between giggles, feeling more and more at ease the longer he speaks to Tubbo. “You remind me a lot of one of my sons. Tommy’s a chaotic little shit, but I love him to death.”

After saying that, Phil falls silent for a few moments, too distracted by thoughts of his sons to notice the way Tubbo abruptly tenses at that name, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief.

While trying to keep his cool, Tubbo jumps to his feet, then begins climbing over the railing and down the rope as he hurriedly says, “I am pretty chaotic. You know who’s even more chaotic though? Ranboo! Speaking of Ranboo, I, uh, think he’s probably wondering why I haven’t seen him yet, so I better go now! Talk to you later though, Bird Man!”

“Later, Tubbo!” Phil fondly calls out as the boy begins rushing away, disappearing into the darkness of the night. 

With a smile on his face, Phil closes the balcony door and pulls the curtain back into place, then returns to bed, smiling even wider when he notices the dark blue parrot plushie next to where he had been laying.

While climbing into bed, Phil holds the plushie to his chest, glancing around the room to make sure he’s alone before softly murmuring, “Hey there, little guy. Wanna keep me company tonight?”

For a few moments, Phil pauses, waiting for a response. Then, with a disbelieving chuckle, he gives up on that idea, reminding himself that it’s a fucking toy, and those don’t fucking talk. 

“I must be tired,” Phil mutters while still chuckling to himself, but, even though it might be a little silly, he falls asleep easily, feeling safe and protected while holding the parrot plushie in his arms. 

Chapter Text

Tap, tap, tap.

“What the fuck,” Wilbur tiredly mutters in a slurred, sleep-rough voice, knowing that something woke him up, but his exhausted brain is unable to figure it out as the tendrils of sleep still cloud his mind like a dense fog. 

Tap, tap, tap.

Wait…

Was that a knock on the door?

Even though Wilbur isn’t entirely sure if someone’s knocking on his door, maybe he’s just going crazy and fucking hearing things, Wil says in that same tired tone, “Come in.”

With a soft squeak, the door opens, then quickly but softly closes behind the new person.

After a few moments of waiting for the person to say something but receiving only tense, eerie silence, Wilbur sits up, calling out into the darkness, “You gonna say something?”

Tap, tap.

Upon hearing someone tap twice against the wall, two seconds in between each one, Wilbur finally realizes what’s happening.

Those three taps he heard before weren’t knocking, it was Dream saying his name in the code they created.

One tap for yes, two taps for no, three taps to say his name to get his attention, and four taps to tell him that something’s wrong.

“Hey, Dre,” Wilbur softly says as he scoots over in his bed, sitting against the wall in order to give Dream room to sit for whenever he inevitably comes over here. “You okay?”

Tap, tap.

“You wanna come sit with me?” Wil gently questions, already knowing that Dream’s answer would have been no, especially since he’s inside his bedroom in the middle of the night, entirely non-verbal, but his chest still aches after hearing Dream confirm that he isn’t okay.

Rather than tapping out his response, Wilbur suddenly finds himself with Dream pressed against his chest, the trembling man clinging tightly to him in a vice-like grip.

“Easy there, Dre, you’re okay,” Wilbur assures Dream as he carefully loosens the man’s death-grip on him, not wanting to wake up the next morning with bruises littering his arms from Dream clutching to him like his entire life depends on it. “No one’s gonna hurt you here. You’re safe with me.”

It takes a little while, and many more reassuring words from Wilbur, but Dream’s trembling finally subsides, causing the man to slump bonelessly against Wil’s chest instead of holding onto the Phantom-hybrid tightly. 

“There you go, Dre, you’re doing so good,” Wilbur praises as he wraps his arms around Dream’s back, holding the man more firmly against his chest and smiling sadly when Dream releases a content, shaky sigh at the feeling of being held.

After a few moments of just letting Dream soak in the feeling of his embrace, Wilbur softly asks in a low, understanding tone, “Nightmare?”

A slow, hesitant nod.

“The usual?” Wil asks even quieter than before, his voice laced with sympathy, especially since, all these months later, he still sometimes has nightmares of the day those hunters pinned him to the ground, the sun sizzling his skin mercilessly, leaving his body riddled with burn scars that he does his best to cover up, but they never truly go away.

Another nod, this one accompanied by the feeling of wetness seeping into the front of his shirt where Dream’s face is pressed against it.

While moving one hand from Dream’s back, instead beginning to card his fingers through Dream’s hair, Wilbur honestly says, “Sorry to hear that, Dre. I know that one really sucks. I’m glad you came to me though. I’ll take care of you.”

With a relieved sigh, Dream loosely grips the front of Wilbur’s brown t-shirt in his gloved hands, the familiar fabric beneath his fingers reminding him of where he is right now and helping to stave away some of the lingering fear caused by his nightmare. 

After a long time of the two sitting together in bed while holding each other close, Wilbur moves his hand off of Dream’s head, instead placing it on Dream’s wrist where his skin meets the glove.

While sticking his thumb underneath the glove ever so slightly, Wil softly asks, “Can I?”

For a long time, Dream doesn’t respond, his silence almost making Wilbur want to take back the question, but he doesn’t, worried that doing so might shatter this fragile moment.

Finally, Dream jerkily nods his head, his agreeance causing Wilbur to smile widely and triumphantly. 

Ever so slowly, taking his time in case Dream wants to pull away, Wilbur gently slips one of the gloves off of Dream’s hand, soon followed by the other one. 

Without needing to look at Dream’s hands, having seen them before, Wilbur gently takes Dream’s left hand, holding it tenderly in his own as his thumb lightly traces over the intricate pattern permanently etched in ink. 

“You are so beautiful,” Wilbur murmurs as he stops running his finger over the back of Dream’s hand, instead bringing the appendage up to his lips and delivering a gentle kiss squarely over the design on his hand. “You’re incredible, Dre.”

As heat rushes to his cheeks, Dream smiles shyly at Wilbur’s words and gentle touch, some of his lingering fear and nervousness slowly ebbing away now that he’s in Wilbur’s kind, caring hands.

Next, Wilbur grabs Dream’s right hand, unable to miss the way Dream shivers violently with a little whine as he begins tracing the back of his hand, the skin permanently raised in the shape of two letters, one a horizontal and vertical line that meet, the other two vertical lines connected by a horizontal one.

As Wilbur continues tracing over his right hand, a choked whimper escapes Dream as tears rush to his eyes, still remembering all too well the day that was seared into his skin, the stench of blistering and burning flesh filling the air as his little sister screamed for them to stop, screamed that he wasn’t a criminal and didn’t deserve the mark of one. 

“Shhhh, it’s okay, Dre,” Wilbur gently murmurs as he releases Dream’s hand, instead cupping the side of his face so he can brush away the man’s tears with his thumb. “It’s just you and me here, you’re safe.”

It takes a few moments but, once Dream feels steady enough to meet Wil’s gaze, the Phantom-hybrid sincerely continues with a fond smile, “You’re so amazing, Dre. Nothing will ever change that, I promise.”

Then, after placing a kiss on the top of Dream’s head and pulling him close to his chest, Wil continues, “You’re kind, amazing, funny, and a damn good friend. You’re so beautiful inside and out, so don’t you ever forget that.”

As tears rush to his eyes, Dream tries to speak, tries to find some way to respond to Wilbur’s terribly kind words, but all that escapes him is a weak little sound.

With a reassuring smile, Wilbur takes Dream’s hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze as he easily says, “It’s okay, Dre. I know. Love you too.”

Once again, Dream slumps fully against Wilbur’s chest, smiling through his tears in the arms of his best friend, the only person who’s ever seen this side of him, the side of him that needs to be taken care of rather than dedicating each hour toward tending to the needs of everyone else. 

After a while of simply holding Dream close with their hands interlocked, each of them able to feel the other’s touch without their gloves, Wilbur hesitantly says, “I know you aren’t gonna like this, but you really gotta start taking off your gloves at night. Your hands are in pretty bad shape.”

In response, Dream simply releases a low whine and shakes his head.

“It sucks, I know,” Wilbur says in an understanding tone, then, with a bitter laugh, he continues, “It really fucking sucks. I know better than anyone else what it’s like. I hate the thought of people seeing the burn scars I have from those fucking hunters. But I know it’s bad to keep my gloves on all the time.”

Eventually, reluctantly, Dream nods his head in agreement, knowing that Wilbur’s right, but he’s fucking terrified at the thought of others seeing his hands, especially since, other than Sapnap, George, and Wil, no one else knows why he wears the gloves in the first place. 

“You’re so brave,” Wilbur adamantly says as he releases Dream’s hand, once again beginning to card his fingers through Dream’s hair in soothing, repetitive motions that cause the man to smile sleepily against his chest.

When Wil feels Dream grow heavier in his arms, a tell-tale sign that the man is close to falling asleep on him, he carefully lays down, positioning Dream so the man rests against his side, his arm firmly wrapped around his back as Dream’s head rests in the crook between his shoulder and chest.

With his free hand, Wilbur reaches out toward his bedside table and slides open the third drawer, feeling around blindly until he finds the object he was looking for.

When Dream feels something soft and cuddly press against his chest, he can’t help but smile slightly, wrapping his arms around the plushie as he steadily drifts off to sleep.

Even though it’s too dark to see Dream, Wil can’t help but smile fondly at the man, imagining the way he’s snuggling with the lime-green sheep plushie with a smiley face mask on the side of the head that Wilbur made for him, kept within easy reach at all times for nights like these. 

Whenever Wil makes plushies for his friends, he likes to have some element that ties back to them, that way they know the gift was made with them in mind. So, both plushies he made Dream have a little mask, Ranboo's hold an ender pearl, Tommy's have a feather, Techno's a braid, and so on. And, every time he sees their eyes linger on that part of the plushie, Wilbur can’t help but smile widely, knowing that the extra time spent to add that is so worth it. 

“Love you, Dre,” Wilbur murmurs as he allows his eyes to slip shut, falling asleep with a smile on his face as he holds Dream close to his chest, his last thought while awake being that 1, he’s never gonna let anything hurt Dream again, and 2, he’s gonna get the stubborn prick to finally take care of himself, no matter what it takes. 

Chapter Text

“Techno, get your ass out here or I’ll leave without you!” Sapnap playfully shouts from where he stands in the hallway outside the door to Techno’s room in the Kinoko Kingdom Palace.

Sapnap expects to hear a shout that’s ‘monetization friendly’--whatever the fuck that means--maybe some PG variation of ‘fuck off’, but he’s met with only silence, his friend’s lack of response instantly putting a frown on his face and making him concerned.

Hesitantly, Sapnap softly knocks on the door and calls out, “Tech? Can I come in?”

When Sapnap hears a low grunt of acknowledgment from inside the room, he cautiously opens the door, unsure what he’s going to find, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting this.

On top of the ruby-red bed sheets is Technoblade, but, rather than sitting tall and powerful like he usually does, his posture is slumped, his entire body seeming to be hunched over something. His long, vibrant pink hair, which he usually twists into an intricate braid, falls messily around him, creating a curtain so Sapnap can’t see his face. His white, floppy bunny ears, which almost always swivel and turn with every movement he hears, remain limp, pressed down to the sides of his head, something that Sapnap has only seen once or twice, and each time was when he was deeply troubled by something. Like usual, he’s wearing his black pants and white button-down shirt, but he looks much less extravagant without his blood-red fur-lined cloak, that garment resting on his lap rather than hugging his shoulders. 

Even though his appearance is much different than usual, the bunny-hybrid always insisting on looking his best ever since he came to the Palace, the most concerning thing to Sapnap is the fact that, every once and a while, he hears a soft sniffle, that sound seeming much too weak and vulnerable to be coming from Technoblade.

“Hey, you okay?” Sapnap gently questions as he sits down at the foot of the bed, still maintaining some distance as to not crowd the man, but wanting to let him know that, if he needs the support, he’s there.

Much to Sapnap’s surprise and dismay, Techno simply shakes his head, that movement accompanied by a small, choked sob tearing through his chest.

Without conscious thought, Sapnap closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around him in a hug. When Techno returns the hug, burying his face against his chest, Sapnap dully notes that the strong, muscled arms around him could easily squeeze the life out of him from this close, but Technoblade’s days of killing, days of being nothing but The Blood God, are finally over. 

When Techno’s sobs come to an end, Sapnap doesn’t speak or push him away, instead simply continuing to rub soothing circles against the man’s back, doing his best to ignore the plethora of angry, raised scars he can feel lying beneath the man’s shirt.

After a while of sitting in companionable silence, Techno softly admits in a low voice, “I miss him.”

As a sad, pained smile graces Sapnap’s features, he adamantly says without hesitation, “We’ll find him, I promise.” 

“Sap, it’s been months-s,” Techno replies in a heartbroken tone, his voice breaking on the last word, feeling absolutely devastated that Phil’s been missing for nine months now. “What if he’s g-gon-”

“Shhhhh, don’t think like that,” Sapnap softly interrupts Techno, not wanting him to go down that route again. 

Then, while pulling away from their embrace slightly, Sapnap takes one of his hands off the man’s back, instead placing it under his chin to lift Techno’s head so he can see his face.

With concerned, judgment-free eyes, Sapnap’s gaze flitters over Techno’s face, never lingering on the numerous scars that marr his features, instead looking into the albino bunny-hybrid’s red eyes as he vehemently promises, “We will find him. I won’t stop until we get your family back together. Those boys need their dad back and you need your best friend.”

As more tears gather in his eyes, Techno opens the palm of his hand, revealing a gold chain necklace with a bright red, blocky heart-shaped pendant in the middle.

While clutching the necklace even tighter, Techno reveals for the first time, “Wilbur found this on the ground where we were captured. A few years ago, Phil got us both matching necklaces, saying something terribly cheesy about how I would always have his heart.”

After releasing a small, watery laugh, Techno continues, “Neither of us ever took our necklaces off. When we were apart, it was a way of feeling close to each other. And, when we were together, it reminded us of how much we l-loved each other.”

As a few tears slip down his cheeks, Techno finishes with a faraway look in his eyes, “Even after all my time in the ring, I wouldn’t let anyone take my necklace. The first few people who tried ended up so bloody that no one else even bothered after that. I fought so hard to keep it with me through that hell, and I found out that he lost his in the forest we were captured in… I have to give it back to Phil.”

“And you will,” Sapnap says without hesitation, tenderly brushing away a tear that had slipped down Techno’s cheek during his story.

Then, with a sincere, although sad smile, Sapnap earnestly continues, “Thanks for telling me that, Tech. I know none of you wanted to tell us Phil’s name, so thank you for trusting me with it.”

For a few moments, Techno is silent, his eyes closed against the still-falling tears as he does his best to choke back more sobs.

Finally, when he feels collected enough to speak, he looks into Sapnap’s bright orange, blaze-hybrid eyes and sincerely says, “I trust you, Sap, and that’s not something I give out lightly. We’ve rescued so many hybrids together that I know you’re a good guy. It just… it hurts talking about him. Every time I say his name, it reminds me of the fact that he’s gone and I might never get him back. That’s why we’ve never told you or Dream his name before. Talking about him is just too painful to bear.”

“I get it, I really do,” Sapnap softly encourages with a small smile, a part of him soaring with happiness over the knowledge that Techno trusts him, but that joyous part is overshadowed by the pain in his friend’s voice. “Knowing his name now doesn’t help us that much, so it isn’t too big of a deal that you’ve waited so long to share it with us. But, when we come back from this next place, I’ll run his name through the database, just to make sure we didn’t rescue him before we knew about you all.”

With a curt nod, Techno pulls back from Sapnap’s embrace, standing up and wiping away his tears in one swift movement.

Carefully, Techno puts on Phil’s necklace, both of the heart necklaces touching each other rather than the heart that he wishes Phil’s would rest against again. 

After making sure each necklace is securely fashioned, Techno grabs his cloak, flinging it over his shoulders in a well-practiced flurry of movement.

With his signature smirk, the sight of it making Sapnap grin despite Techno’s blotchy cheeks from crying, Technoblade asks, “You ready to rescue some hybrids?”

“Hell yeah!” Sapnap exclaims as he jumps to his feet, little ashy particles falling from his jet-black hair, the tips turning fiery whenever he gets excited. “Let’s kick some hunters’ asses!”

With a chuckle at his friend’s enthusiasm, Techno opens the door to his room, sniffling one last time as he steps into the hallway. 

Together, the two walk through the Palace hallways, discussing battle tactics rather than the man they both hope to find today, but, each time he notices Techno grab one of the two necklaces, Sapnap can’t help but smile sadly, feeling like he finally has a deeper understanding of the man.

And with this better understanding comes the even stronger desire to help his friend.

No matter what it takes, or how long, Sapnap is going to help Techno find Phil.

Chapter Text

Five Months Ago…

With a heavy, weary sigh, Dream continues making his way through Manburg, his palms feeling sweaty beneath his gloves, his face etched in a permanent scowl from behind his mask, that frown only deepening with each person he sees with gaunt, dirty faces that tell a clear tale of starvation. 

He fucking hates Manburg with a burning passion, wishing that he could be back in Kinoko Kingdom where it’s safe, where each person he passes doesn’t look even more miserable than the last, but no, he just has to be here in this prime-forsaken place because of diplomatic negotiations. 

If it were up to him, he’d simply storm Emperor Schlatt’s castle, ram a sword through the cruel bastard’s chest, and then lead all of his people back to Kinoko, where they would actually be safe and taken care of.

Instead, he’s spent countless hours in meetings, simply standing behind King George with his axe in hand, making it very clear to all the pompous politicians that, if they wanna hurt George, they’ll have to go through him first. 

But finally, finally, they’re finished with all the terribly boring meetings for today, giving Dream the chance to get some fresh air, each moment inside Schlatt’s castle making him feel like he was on the brink of suffocating.

Realistically, he shouldn’t even be here right now, knowing that it is important for both him and Sapnap to be guarding George while in unfamiliar territory, but fuck, he just had to get outside.

Now that he’s actually here though, he wishes that he had never gone out.

Now that he’s standing here, he wishes that he was back at George’s side and away from this terrible, awful place.

Because, even though Dream has seen his fair share of horrors during his time spent rescuing hybrids, this certainly takes the cake.

A little ways in front of him, Dream sees a thick, heavy-wire fence with several rows of seats next to it, but all of them are empty. Instead, each and every person he sees is clambering to get closer to the center, taunting jeers and obscene shouts for blood and death mingling in the air as people press up against the fence.

While feeling a budding sense of dread in the pit of his stomach, Dream pushes his way through the crowd, angered people’s protest about him getting in their way dying out the second they lay eyes on his creepy smiley face mask, his reputation following him even in kingdoms outside his own. 

Once Dream finally reaches the very front of the crowd, he bites his tongue to swallow down a curse, his hands clenching into fists when he finally sees what has captivated the crowd.

It’s a fighting ring…

A hybrid fighting ring…

On one side stands a bunny hybrid, a large, sturdy axe in one hand with a blade that spans the length of his entire arm, the weapon seeming much too large for anyone, yet the bunny hybrid holds it with surprising grace, as if the weapon is simply an extension of himself. Long, flowing pink hair spills out around his floppy ears, the sight seeming to contrast greatly with the bulging muscles underneath the man’s tattered, dark brown tunic.

Before Dream can spend any more time taking in the fighter’s appearance, a loud, booming gong sounds, signaling the start of the battle.

Instantly, the bunny hybrid leaps toward his opponent, which is a quick, nimble wolf hybrid who’s covered in scars everywhere Dream’s eyes look, telling him that this person has been fighting for a very long time, the malicious smile on his face making it clear that he expects an easy win against the bunny.

Despite the fact that, in the wild, wolves hunt rabbits with great ease, the bunny hybrid swipes at the wolf hybrid without relent, his axe meeting the wolf’s own with so much force that his opponent often ends up reeling, staggering back slightly with an expression on his face that reeks of frustration and bewilderment.

After an eternity of exchanging blow for blow without anyone drawing blood, the bunny hybrid leaps high into the air, jumping to the opposite side of the sandy arena, his chest heaving as he stares down his opponent, seeming to realize that brute force isn’t going to be enough to win this fight.

Even though the rest of the crowd angrily complains about the lack of action, Dream knows that the fight is nowhere near over, seeing the way the bunny hybrid’s blood-red eyes flick over every inch of his opponent, trying to find some sort of weak point to exploit before jumping back in with his axe.

But whatever strategy he might have come up with never gets put into action.

Instead, Dream notices the wolf-hybrid procure something out of his pocket from his peripheral vision, a flash of glass shimmering in the sunlight telling him that this certainly isn’t a fair fight.

The wolf hybrid must have realized that he was going to lose, because now he crouches down to the sand below so his back faces the crowd, blocking their view of the way magic fills the air around him, strength surging in his veins as the splash potion takes effect.

Too caught up in their excitement and bloodlust, the crowd doesn’t notice the way the wolf hybrid rises with renewed vigor, a sick, twisted smirk on his face as he turns toward the bunny hybrid, the wolf’s form briefly shimmering a slight purple hue as the potion fully takes effect.

But even though most are oblivious to what just happened, Dream certainly saw it.

And he’s fucking pissed.

It’s one thing to fight in these fucking things as a free person, which, if the collar wrapped around the bunny hybrid’s neck is anything to go by, only one of them is, but it’s an entirely new level of despicable to use a strength potion against an unwilling participant.

It’s fucked up, and Dream’s not about to let them get away with that shit.

Even though Dream didn’t plan on rescuing any hybrids today, he’s gonna get the bunny hybrid out of this fucking ring, no matter what it takes. 

Chapter Text

Five Months Ago…

Without a single moment of hesitation, Dream quickly shoves his way through the crowd, approaching the gate to the fighting ring where two burly men stand on guard, each of them looking bored out of their minds and simultaneously dead inside.

The second they both see Dream approaching though, they spring to attention, tightly clutching their swords with fear in their eyes as the braver of the two shakily says, “No one is allowed back here.”

While knowing exactly what kind of effect he’s about to have, Dream silently tilts his head to the side as he stares at the man that just spoke, who instantly wilts under the frightening gaze of Dream’s mask.

Without saying a single word, knowing that it’s important that he never speaks when he has his mask on in order to keep his identity secret when he goes undercover to rescue hybrids, Dream pulls out his axe, holding the deadly netherite weapon in one hand.

With his free hand, Dream pulls out a pouch of gold, extending it out to the man in a clear gesture that says ‘either you take the money, or I’ll kill you'.

Instantly, the man who spoke takes the coin pouch with trembling hands as the other guard swiftly opens the gate to let Dream inside.

While smirking wildly behind his mask, Dream inclines his head toward each of them, then begins making his way through the cramped stone hallways toward the main fighting ring. 

Several other people try to stop him, shouting that he shouldn’t be back here, but Dream simply raises his axe a little higher and faces them dead on, the sight of his mask, along with the power and fury radiating off him, instantly being enough to get even the bravest of men to back down and let Dream continue traversing toward the sound of blades clashing against one another. 

By the time Dream finally reaches the large steel gate that is raised and lowered again at the start of each fight, he hears a loud, agonized scream, the sound paired with the sight of the wolf hybrid’s axe slicing through the fragile flesh of the bunny hybrid’s stomach. 

As a low, furious growl slips from Dream’s throat, he jabs his finger at the first person he sees, then points at the gate, silently demanding that they raise the gate right this fucking second.

And even though there are two axe-wielding hybrids still fighting in the ring, the terrified worker instantly scrambles to follow Dream’s silent command, seeming much more frightened by the masked man than the thought of letting the hybrid fighters escape.

The second the gate has started to rise, Dream drops to the floor and rolls underneath the small gap. As soon as he clears the opening, he jumps back up to his feet and sprints toward the two fighters, pushing himself to go even faster when he sees the bunny hybrid just barely duck under an axe swing that would’ve taken off his head, both his hands clutching to his stomach in a futile attempt to stop the blood that’s gushing through his fingers.

As Dream reaches the two, the bunny hybrid stumbles to his knees, too weak and dizzy from blood loss to keep standing, even though every instinct screams at him to keep fighting until his last breath.

The wolf hybrid brings his axe down right above the bunny hybrid’s head, aiming to end the man’s life, but the blade never connects.

Instead, the wolf hybrid’s axe hits a sturdy, unfaltering weapon much stronger than his own, his charcoal-colored eyes widening comically when he comes face-to-face with a porcelain, smiley face mask instead of the bloody and bruised bunny he’s been fighting.

After a few moments of just letting their blades stay locked together in a stalemate, Dream whispers in a cold tone that promises endless agony: “I know you used a strength potion. So, either you back the fuck up and let us both walk out of here, or I will end you.”

For a few moments, the wolf hybrid just stares at Dream’s mask uncomprehendingly, unable to understand how this psychopath even got into the ring or how the man managed to see the potion he used.

The second Dream growls low in the back of his throat, the deep rumbling sound making the wolf hybrid’s hackles raise as fear courses through his veins, he quickly disengages from the fight, unwilling to risk his life to finish off an opponent that is already beaten.

With a relieved sigh now that the wolf hybrid is no longer a threat, Dream crouches down next to the bunny hybrid, who’s now laying on his back in the sand, his hands slick with blood from where he still weakly presses against his stomach wound to help stem the bleeding. 

“Hold on a little longer, I’m getting you out of here,” Dream murmurs as he scoops the bunny hybrid into his arms, gently shushing him when the man releases a loud, pained groan.

On his way out, no one tries to stop Dream, each person working at the fighting ring instead focused on leading the wolf hybrid out of there quickly so the next fight can begin, not wanting to lose any more of their audience since many of the people in the crowd stormed off during the scene Dream caused.

The second Dream’s out of the tunnels of the fighting ring and through the gate, he sprints toward the closest alleyway he finds.

As gently as possible, Dream lays the bunny hybrid on the ground, pulling a healing potion from his inventory and pressing it to the fighter’s lips while commanding, “Drink the health pot.”

When the bunny hybrid doesn’t drink it, too delirious with pain and fatigue to comply, Dream huffs out a deep breath and tries not to suffocate from guilt as he pinches the bunny hybrid’s nose, forcing the fighter to open his mouth to try to gasp in air. 

Now that his mouth is open, Dream quickly tips the contents of the health potion into it, afterward holding his mouth shut as he waits for the fighter to finally swallow the potion.

Even though Techno doesn’t want to drink the potion, terrified of whatever awful thing it might do, his lungs scream with the need for oxygen, his head pounding even more as his vision greys out completely until finally he’s forced to swallow down the horrible concoction, tears pricking the corners of his ruby eyes as the hands recede and allow him to take a breath.

While feeling absolutely awful for putting the bunny hybrid through that, Dream tenderly wipes away the tears slipping down dirtied cheeks as he murmurs, “I’m so sorry. I promise I won’t do that again. You were gonna die if you didn’t drink it though.”

But Dream’s words simply fall on deaf ears because, as the healing potion begins to take effect, begins to stitch the gaping wound in Techno's stomach, fire consumes his body, an agonized scream tearing through his lips as he weakly curls in on himself.

As tears rush to Dream’s eyes over the bunny hybrid’s suffering, he carefully positions the man so his head rests on his lap, carding one hand through tangled pink hair, the other rubbing soothing circles into the fighter’s back as he rides out the agony of the health potion trying to counteract such a fatal wound. 

Finally, the health potion finishes its job, the only evidence of the wound on the bunny hybrid’s stomach being a new scar on his skin and the blood that covers both their clothes. 

“You back with me?” Dream hesitantly questions when the bunny hybrid finally falls silent, thankful that no more pained sounds are leaving the man’s lips, each one making him think that his heart might shatter into thousands of pieces.

Hesitantly, Techno nods his head, not really understanding what’s going on or where he is, but he knows that not answering their questions will just lead to more beatings, and he really doesn’t want another one after he nearly died.

Speaking of nearly dying…

“How am I alive?” Techno asks in a low, gruff tone, his voice terribly hoarse and scratchy from all his screaming. 

Instead of answering right away, Dream carefully helps the bunny hybrid sit up so his back is leaning up against the wall, pulling a water bottle out of his inventory and handing it to the fighter before scooting over to the opposite side of the alleyway, not wanting to crowd someone who’s both dangerous and afraid. 

Now that he’s a good few blocks away from the bunny hybrid, Dream casually informs the fighter as he drinks his water, “I pulled you from the ring and gave you a health pot.”

Why? Techno wants to ask as he sets down the now-empty water bottle, but he bites his tongue after he gets a good look at the man who saved his life, already knowing the answer to that question, even though he really wishes he didn’t, really wishes that he wasn’t in this awful situation.

Because, instead of being met with the face of a stranger, all he sees is a porcelain mask etched with a creepy, too-wide smile, the sight telling him that this is Dream.

Dream, King George’s bodyguard, his attack dog. 

Dream, who works together with George to collect hybrids like they’re nothing more than cool toys and trinkets.

He’s heard the whispers, heard the stories of how a nearby hybrid compound was raided, all of the hybrids being brought back to King George, as if they are prizes to be acquired rather than people. 

Even though the ring was absolute hell, filled with countless hours spent weak and hungry, filled with long nights spent nursing his wounds in a cold cell, he’d rather have that than be some sort of pet to a king.

So, after a few more moments of just staring at Dream, waiting for the most feared man in the world to prove exactly why he earned that title, Techno makes a decision. 

He’s a fighter, has spent months and months fighting tooth and nail to survive so he can one day be reunited with his family again.

But this time he can’t fight, the axe strapped to Dream’s back telling him that he’d be cut down instantly.

So, he does the only logical thing.

Techno runs.

Chapter Text

Five Months Ago…

Techno runs faster than he ever has before, his heart pounding furiously in his chest as his legs propel him forward blindly, unable to hear the angry shouts of people he almost slams into, his prey instincts simply screaming for him to get away.

Techno runs and runs and runs and keeps on running, tears blurring his vision as he keeps pressing onward, knowing that, the second he stops, he’s dead.

Please, he can’t die, not without seeing Phil again, not without being wrapped in his best friend’s wings, Tommy and Wilbur snuggled up against his side as he recounts his favorite tales from mythology, his heart swelling with fondness as they all listen to him with rapt attention, as if he hasn’t told those stories hundreds of times already.

But, just like in so many of those stories, the hero meets his tragic end.

It’s no noble way to go out, his foot getting caught on a stray tree root and sending him tumbling to the ground below, getting a face full of dirt as his ankle twists to the side with a sickening crunch, the agonizing pain telling him that he won’t be able to stand, let alone keep running.

Even though he knows how hopeless it is, Techno slowly struggles upright, snagging a stick as a makeshift weapon on his way to his feet, holding it in a white-knuckled grip as he stands on his left leg, his right foot barely even touching the ground to help alleviate the sharp, throbbing pain in his ankle.

As Dream comes toward him with slow, purposeful strides, Techno brandishes his stick and shouts in a voice that sounds much braver than he actually feels, “Stay back! I’ll kill you if you come any closer!”

“Alright,” Dream says in a low, placating tone as he stops a few blocks away from Techno, his hands raised in surrender as he slowly sits down on the dirt below. “I’ll stay right here.”

For a few moments, Techno just stands there peering down at Dream, gripping the stick like a lifeline as he waits for the man to attack him.

Eventually, when Dream just keeps sitting there with his hands raised so Techno can see his gloved palms, Techno slowly and gingerly lowers himself to sit down on the ground too, a pained whine slipping from his lips when the movement jostles his hurt ankle.

“You okay?” Dream gently questions, his green eyes filled with worry from behind his mask, feeling terribly guilty that the bunny hybrid is hurt again.

Techno doesn’t respond, knowing that his only options are to lie or admit that he’s hurt, both of which sound terrible. Instead, he just stares at Dream’s mask, feeling like that ugly porcelain will be the last thing he sees before he dies.

After a quick look around them, Dream realizes that they are near the outskirts of the Manburg border, telling him that, most likely, no one else is going to come anywhere near them.

Slowly, Dream unclasps the strap on the back of his mask, lowering it from his face as he gently says, “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but I promise I’m not like that. You don’t have to be scared of me. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

With wide eyes, Techno’s gaze darts over Dream’s… surprisingly young face, emerald green eyes meeting ruby red with a soft smile.

“You took off your mask,” Techno mutters in shock, knowing that, in every single story he’s heard about Dream, he always has his mask on.

“I did,” Dream confirms with a patient smile. “I only wear it as an intimidation tactic. It’s a lot scarier than my actual face. But I don’t want you to be scared of me.” 

“Why? Aren’t you just plannin’ on killing me?” Techno slowly questions after a few moments of hesitation, feeling more and more confused with each passing moment. 

“What?! No!” Dream instantly exclaims in alarm, horrified by the thought of the bunny hybrid believing that Dream would kill him this whole time. “Why would I heal you just to kill you?”

“Dunno,” Techno says with a shrug, a barely perceptible tightness entering his voice as he tries to sound unaffected while continuing, “People have come up with some pretty creative ways to hurt me.”

“Fuck,” Dream breathes out in a horrified whisper, realizing that this situation is much worse than he first thought. “I promise I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Sure you aren’t,” Techno sarcastically mutters, knowing that Dream is just lying to his face, especially since Phil and his sons are the only ones who’ve ever said they wouldn’t hurt him and meant it.

“What’s your name?” Dream softly questions after a few moments of silence, hoping that the fighter will tell him his name so Dream can think of him as something other than ‘the bunny hybrid’. 

“Why would I tell you that?” Techno growls as his blood-red eyes narrow with anger, refusing to let Dream take his name from him, especially when that and his necklace are the only things from life before that haven’t been tainted yet.

“Well, you know my name, so it’s only fair I get to know yours too, right?” Dream asks with a lopsided grin, trying his absolute best to lighten the heavy atmosphere a bit.

After hearing that, Techno just can’t hold it in anymore. All the anger that’s been bubbling inside him, clambering to escape ever since the day he and Phil were captured, finally rushes to the surface, the dam breaking with no way of stopping it.

“You wanna talk about fair?” Techno snarls as the stick in his hands snaps from how hard he clenches his fists, wanting nothing more than to leap to his feet and punch Dream until he’s nothing more than a bloody, unrecognizable corpse. “You wanna talk about fair when I have this collar wrapped around my neck? Let’s talk about fair when I was ripped away from everything I’ve ever known and told to kill or be killed. Does that sound fair to you?”

As Techno heaves in shaky breath after breath from his outburst, he expects Dream to yell and scream at him, to kick and punch him for daring to even express an opinion, let alone any angry one.

Instead, Dream just lowers his head to look at the dirt below as he whispers, “No, it’s not fair.”

After releasing a shuddering sigh, Dream slowly raises his gaze, Techno’s eyes widening when he sees the tears in Dream’s own as the man softly continues, “It’s not fair at all. I’m sorry.”

“You’re… sorry?” Techno questions in a low, disbelieving tone, certain that he must’ve misheard, especially since the only apologies he’s heard in months have fallen from his own lips. 

“Yeah, I’m so sorry for all this,” Dream sincerely continues as he keeps his gaze locked with Techno’s, even as a few tears begin to slip down Dream’s cheeks. “I want to help you, but I don’t really know how. Everything is usually so planned out, but I just saw your opponent drink the strength pot and knew that you were gonna die if I didn’t do anything. Dying in a sandy arena sure seems like a terrible way to go out, don’t you think?”

Solemnly, Techno nods his head, having thought time and time again of how he’d probably die in the ring and the handlers would simply dump his body out back, uncaring of yet another life that was lost to that awful place.

“I want to help you, but I can’t do that unless you let me,” Dream earnestly says as he stands up, approaching the bunny hybrid and kneeling in front of him with a sad smile. “Please, let me help you.”

“What happens if I agree?” Techno nervously questions, knowing that he’s probably the biggest idiot alive for even considering trusting Dream, but, if he’s being totally honest, he’s just so tired of having to fight every day just to live.

“I’ll take you back to Kinoko Kingdom Palace and make sure you’re taken care of,” Dream honestly replies as he gently places a hand on Techno’s knee, hoping the contact will help show him that he means no harm. “You’ll have your own room, plenty of food, free roam of the Palace grounds. If you wanna leave at any point, you can. And if you have any family, I’ll do my best to help you find them.”

“You promise I can leave whenever?” Techno hesitantly questions, certain that he’ll regret this later, but the thought of having his own room and food, maybe even finding Phil again someday, is just so hard to resist.

“Yeah, I promise you can go whenever you want to,” Dream adamantly assures him without hesitation, trying his best to fight back the hope he feels beginning to fill his chest. “If you hate it there, you can just walk away, no questions asked.”

“Okay,” Techno breathes out with a heavy sigh, his eyes slipping shut of their own accord, his pain and exhaustion seeming to tenfold now that there's a chance of him being someplace safe for once.

“Okay?” Dream questions with a growing smile, ecstatic that the bunny hybrid is agreeing to come with him.

Feeling too exhausted to form words, Techno just nods his head, the abrupt movement causing him to pitch to the side as a sudden wave of dizziness hits him.

Instead of landing in the dirt below, strong arms wrap around Techno, the kind touch accompanied by a voice whispering, “You can rest now, I’ve got you.”

And rest he does.

Chapter Text

Five Months Ago…

After sending George and Sapnap a message on their coms to explain the unexpected situation he’s found himself in, Dream begins making his way back to the Kinoko Kingdom Palace, the sleeping bunny hybrid held safely and snugly in his arms.

With a smile on his face that’s hidden from the outside world by his mask, Dream holds the bunny hybrid a little tighter, vowing to himself to not let anyone hurt the man ever again.

He’ll protect this bunny hybrid with everything he’s got because, even though the numerous scars on his body show that he’s capable of surviving all kinds of terrible wounds, he doesn’t want the man to have to fight for his life anymore. 

Dream wants him to live.

To be happy.

To be free.

It’ll take time, Dream’s sure of it, but it’s so worth it in the end.

While continuing to think about all the ways he can make life better for the bunny hybrid, Dream makes the long trek back home, his arms and legs aching from so long spent walking while carrying a whole other person.

But it’s so worth it in the end, especially since Dream knows that the bunny hybrid is well and truly safe now.

As Dream begins making his way through the hallways of the Kinoko Kingdom Palace, the slumbering bunny hybrid still in his arms, Dream comes across two familiar figures, the sight of them causing him to smile widely behind his mask as he excitedly calls out, “Hey, Tubbo! Hi, Tommy!”

“Dream!” Tubbo happily greets in reply as he whirls around, his little wings beating rapidly as he floats off the ground in excitement.

Tubbo’s smile dims slightly though when he sees the figure in Dream's arms, the sight of the dirty and bloody bunny hybrid causing him to hesitantly ask, “Who’s that?”

Before Dream can respond, Tommy’s gaze lands on the figure in Dream’s arms, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief when he realizes exactly who it is.

“Technoblade!” Tommy shouts in absolute glee as he rushes toward the two, unaware of the fact that the bunny hybrid had been asleep and is now very much awake.

Before Techno can panic, he hears a wonderfully familiar voice loudly and excitedly cheer, “Techno! Prime, Techno, it’s you! You’re actually here!”

Techno opens his mouth to demand to be put down so he can properly see Tommy, but his back is already being propped up against the wall, Dream taking off his cloak and gently putting it underneath Techno’s hurt ankle to be used as a cushion.

Tears rush to Techno’s eyes as Tommy climbs onto his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around Techno’s middle while whispering in awe, “Techno, you’re alive. You’re here.”

“I’m here, Tommy,” Techno shakily murmurs as he slowly wraps his arms around Tommy in return, the first smile he’s had in months gracing his lips as he feels the familiar brush of Tommy’s feathers, so much smaller and softer than Phil’s own wings. “It’s so good to see you.”

Then, while hoping that, since Tommy’s here, Wilbur will be too, he hesitantly asks, “Where’s your brother?”

“I don’t kno-” Tommy starts to say, not giving a fuck about where Wilbur is now that Techno's back, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence before he’s interrupted. 

“I’ll go find him,” Dream says without hesitation as he begins walking down the hallway toward Wilbur’s room, not entirely sure what’s happening but, with how happy Tommy is to see the bunny hybrid, he’s sure that Wilbur will feel the same.

“I’ll come too!” Tubbo awkwardly pipes up from where he stands off to the side, definitely feeling like he’s intruding on a family moment he shouldn’t be watching.

Together, Dream and Tubbo make their way toward Wilbur’s room, Techno intently watching them go until they disappear from sight, demanding the second they’re gone, “Quick, tell me everything you know about Dream.”

“Techn-” Tommy starts to complain with an exasperated sigh, wanting to actually talk to his dad’s best friend after so long of being apart, but no, the guy wants to hear all about fucking Dream instead.

“Has he hurt you?” Techno growls as he holds Tommy a little tighter, glaring daggers at the last spot where he saw Dream, as if daring the man to return so he can rip him to shreds. 

“What?!” Tommy asks in a loud, shocked tone, certain that he must’ve misheard, that Techno doesn’t actually think Dream would hurt someone. “No, no, Dream would never hurt me.”

“He isn’t here, you don’t have to lie,” Techno gently reminds the kid, knowing that he has to find out the truth before Dream comes back, that way he has enough time to grab Tommy and run, then come back to save Wil later. 

“I am not lying,” Tommy adamantly says as he pulls back slightly from Techno’s embrace, looking into the bunny hybrid’s ruby red eyes as he firmly continues, “Dream’s my friend. He’s a good guy, I promise. He saved me and Wil.”

That makes Techno pause for a few moments, wondering how and why Dream would’ve saved the boys, but he can’t help but feel the slightest bit grateful toward the man now.

But, even with this new feeling of gratitude, Techno still doesn’t trust Dream for a single second, causing him to try once again, “Seriously, if I need to get you out of here, I’ll find a way, I swea-”

“Techno, I promise I’m fine,” Tommy says with a sad smile as he keeps looking into Techno’s eyes, not understanding why Techno won’t just believe him, but his heart hurts to think about the implications of his lack of trust. “I actually like it here. I… I really like it here. The only thing that could make it better is if dad was here too…”

And just like that, all of Techno’s joy leaves in a rush, his heart stuttering in his chest as his breath catches, dread filling the pit of his stomach as he shakily asks, “Phil’s still missing?”

For a few moments, Tommy hesitates, hating the absolute anguish he sees in Techno’s eyes, but he can’t lie to his family, causing him to whisper before trailing off, “Yeah…”

“No, no, no, he has to be here!” Techno shouts as he lets go of Tommy, instead threading his hands through his hair, yanking hard as he desperately questions, “Where is he?! I thought he was safe!”

“I’m sorry, Tech,” Tommy apologizes in an uncharacteristically soft tone as he places his hands on top of Techno’s, stilling the bunny hybrid’s attempts at ripping out his hair. “Dream and Sapnap have rescued so many hybrids, but they haven’t found dad yet.”

For a few moments, Techno just breathes raggedly with his eyes tightly squeezed shut against the threat of tears, certain that, if Tommy wasn’t here, he’d be sobbing his heart out.

He thought that Phil was safe.

He thought that his best friend, his entire world, was back at home with his boys, looking everywhere for him while waiting for the day he’d return.

Instead, Phil is still out there somewhere. Suffering. Maybe even dead…

“Tech?” Tommy hesitantly asks, not liking the far-away look in his blood-red gaze, the sight screaming wrong even though Tommy doesn’t understand why.

Techno can’t help but flinch at the sound of Tommy’s voice, so unused to hearing his own name now after all his time spent in the ring.

After blinking hard to fight back his tears, Techno asks in a low, hollow tone, “Did you tell them Phil’s name?”

“Well, no, we never gave his name to anyone. Or yours either,” Tommy sheepishly mutters after a few moments of hesitation, realizing that, fuck, maybe they should’ve told Dream their names in case that helped him find the rest of their family easier.

“Good,” Techno says with a heavy, relieved sigh, some of the emptiness leaving his gaze as he firmly demands, “Don’t you dare tell them his name.”

“What? Why?” Tommy questions with furrowed eyebrows, not understanding why Techno wouldn’t wanna give Dream Phil’s name, especially since that might help him find their missing family member easier.

“I’m going to find Phil myself,” Techno declares as he sits up a little straighter, more than willing to dedicate all his time to bringing Phil back home now that he’s out of the ring. “I don’t trust this Dream guy. Promise me you won’t tell anyone Phil’s name.”

“Okay, yeah, sure, I won’t mention it,” Tommy mutters with a shrug, deciding that, well, since they haven’t mentioned Phil’s name before now, it probably wouldn’t hurt to keep quiet about it still.

Even though Tommy agreed, that doesn’t mean he’s particularly fond of this idea, causing him to grumble, “I think you’re being a bit overdramat-”

“I’ve spent every day fighting for my life for who knows how long,” Techno interrupts in a low growl, unable to stand being called overdramatic when everything he’s ever loved was ripped away from him with no way to get it back. “I finally got you boys back, and I won’t lose you again. I’d do anything to keep you all safe. So don’t you call me overdramatic for trying to protect Phil in the only way I can.”

Feeling thoroughly chastised, Tommy ducks his head, his wings drooping as he whispers in a low, embarrassed tone, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Techno softly says after a few moments of tense silence, unable to stay mad at the kid, especially not when he thought he’d lost Tommy forever. 

Slowly, Techno wraps his arms around Tommy in another hug, resting his chin on top of the kid’s head, some of the tension draining from his shoulders as he listens to the sound of Tommy’s soft breaths, each little one so beautiful after so long spent apart.

“Techno!” Wilbur shouts as a familiar silhouette barrels through the wall a little ways away from them, a wide smile on Techno’s face as Wil comes crashing against his chest, his heart soaring with happiness as Tommy grumbles about being crushed from where he’s squished in the middle of their hug.

Gently, Techno shifts Wilbur onto one side, Tommy on the other, allowing him to hold both of Phil’s boys close to his chest, vowing that he’ll never let them go ever again.

Chapter Text

With a small, slightly nervous smile, Dream softly knocks on his bedroom door, not wanting to startle Phil in case the Elytrian is still asleep.

After waiting a few moments with no response, Dream slowly cracks open the bedroom door with one hand, the other carefully balancing two plates with breakfast on them.

As his eyes land on the Elytrian snuggled up in his sheets, the parrot plushie clutched tightly to his chest, a wide smile graces Dream’s lips, little moments like these making all this so worth it.

All the long hours spent strategizing and locating the next group of hybrids to rescue, all the days spent fretting about every little thing that could go wrong, it all just fades away in little moments like this, when someone who’s suffered for far too long is finally safe and free. 

After carefully setting the plates down on the bedside table, Dream sits on the side of the bed and gently cards his fingers through Phil's hair as he whispers, "Morning, Phil. I've got breakfast for ya."

With a loud, exhausted groan, Phil sleepily buries his face in the pillow, wanting to sleep for another year, especially since this bed is so damn comfortable.

With a fond chuckle, Dream lightly teases, “Come on, it’s gonna get cold if you keep laying there. I can even get you some coffee if you want it.”

Instantly, Phil perks up, finally lifting his head from the pillow as he tiredly questions in a hopeful tone, “Coffee?”

“Yep, I’ll go get you some coffee,” Dream says with his smile still in place as he stands up, then, with that same teasing tone, he continues, “You look like you certainly need it.”

In response, Phil just releases another groan against his pillow, feeling so fucking tired, even though, logically, he knows that this is the best he’s slept in so long.

After a few minutes, Dream returns with a steaming mug in one hand and a glass of orange juice for himself in the other.

Once he sets those down on the bedside table as well, Dream cheerily sits down again and says, “Alright, I’ve got your coffee. Now you just gotta sit up to drink it.”

While muttering curses under his breath, Phil slowly sits up, seriously unhappy about being awake.

But, when a warm mug is pressed into his hands, the smell of fresh coffee wrapping around his nose like a hug, Phil can’t help but release a content sigh, deciding that being awake is a little better now.

As he takes the first sip of coffee he’s had in months, the wonderfully bitter liquid burning his throat and tongue on the way down, Phil can’t help but mutter, “Holy fucking shit, I’ve missed this.”

“Well, you can have as much coffee as you want now,” Dream replies with a smile as he begins munching on his eggs with toast, his heart nearly bursting with happiness at how relaxed Phil seems right now. “I also brought some sugar in case you wanna put that in it.”

With an eager nod, Phil accepts the sugar, humming appreciatively at the sweeter taste of the coffee this time around. 

After a few more moments of just drinking his coffee, feeling slightly more awake now, Phil softly says, “I don’t know why I feel so fucking tired when this is the best I’ve slept in ages.”

“It’s ‘cause your body finally isn’t fighting just to survive,” Dream gently explains with a sad smile, having run into this time and time again, almost every hybrid experiencing the same crash when the adrenaline of trying to survive captivity finally fades away. “You’re finally able to relax after so long being in a dangerous situation, so that’s bound to leave you exhausted.”

“This is normal then?” Phil hesitantly questions after a few moments of thinking over Dream’s words, hoping that this means that there isn’t something wrong with him.

“Yeah, it’s totally normal,” Dream reassures Phil with his sad little smile still in place. “Honestly, I’d be more concerned if you were feeling fine. Best thing to do is just rest as much as possible for the next few days.”

“And drink lots of coffee,” Phil mutters with a cheeky smile.

Caught off guard by that, Dream can’t help but release a loud wheeze of laughter, muttering in between giggles, “I don’t think… that’s the… best way to be… less tired.”

“Sure it is,” Phil replies with a wide smile, unable to fight back a grin at the sound of Dream’s wheezy, bubbly laughter. “Clearly you just don’t drink enough coffee.”

While fondly rolling his eyes as the last of his giggles die out, Dream playfully says, “As wonderful as that sounds, it’s probably best to limit ya to one cup a day, at least until you’re more used to drinking it again.”

With a small, bittersweet smile, Phil softly mutters in a teasing tone, “If my boys were here right now, they’d get a kick out of you worrying over me. They always call me such a mother hen.”

Even though there’s a smile on Phil’s face, Dream can’t bring himself to smile back, feeling like he’s been punched in the gut at the thought of Phil having kids out there somewhere that have been without their dad for who knows how long.

After swallowing hard against the rising bile he feels, Dream shakily questions, “You have kids?”

“Yeah, I’ve got two sons,” Phil shares as his chest starts to feel tight, his throat getting clogged with emotion, tears threatening to spill as he continues, “I don’t really want to talk about them right now. It hurts, y’know?”

With a sympathetic, understanding smile, Dream places a hand on Phil’s shoulder and gently says, “Of course, Phil. I’m here though if you ever wanna talk about them.”

“Thanks, Mate,” Phil says with a genuine, relieved smile, thankful that Dream didn’t pry, certain that talking about Tommy and Wil would lead to him becoming a sobbing mess, and it’s too damn early for that. 

“You’re welcome,” Dream replies as he moves his hand off of Phil’s shoulder, instead taking the man’s now-empty mug and placing it on the bedside table, then, as he hands Phil his plate, Dream earnestly continues, “I want to make your time here as nice as possible.”

And suddenly Phil’s food doesn’t seem quite as appetizing, his heart stuttering in his chest at the thought of having to leave here, especially since Dream is so nice and it’s so warm and seems so safe.

Even though he hates to ask this, hates to learn how finite his time here is, Phil nervously questions in a weak tone, “Speaking of that, um, how long do I get to stay here?”

“As long as you want,” Dream honestly says without hesitation, his words causing Phil’s head to snap up to look at him in shock. “If you just want to stay here until you’re feeling better, then that’s totally fine. I get it if you wanna get back home as fast as possible. But, if you don’t have a home, you can stay here for as long as you like. Some of the hybrids I’ve helped have been living here for a few years now, so yeah, you’re welcome to do the same if you want to.”

“I-I can actually stay?" Phil asks in a low, breathless whisper, hardly even daring to believe Dream's words, certain that it must be too good to be true. 

Even before he was captured, he never had a home. It's always been moving from one place to the next, never staying anywhere for too long to help ensure that he and his family were never found by hybrid hunters. So the thought of actually having a real home, maybe even one that Techno and his sons could live in too, sounds absolutely amazing.

“Yeah, Phil, you can stay as long as you want to,” Dream confirms with a patient smile, his heart aching at the raw desperation on the Elytrian’s face. “We have plenty of space here too, so if you’d feel more comfortable having your own room instead of staying in mine, we can definitely do that." 

"I, uh, don't want to be alone," Phil weakly mutters after a few moments of hesitation, afterward ducking his head down toward the bedsheets as he feels heat rush to his cheeks, feeling terribly embarrassed for admitting that even though it’s nothing but the truth.

"Oh, Phil, you're more than welcome to stay in here with me then,” Dream gently replies in a tone laced with understanding, placing a comforting hand on the Elytrain’s knee, hoping that kind touch shows the man that he’ll never have to be alone again. “And if there's anything you wanna add in here to make it feel more like home, we can do that. I purposely don't have decorations or anything like that so whoever’s staying here can help decorate the place with me." 

"You're so fucking amazing," Phil mutters with a disbelieving chuckle, unsure how he got so fucking lucky to end up with Dream, but he really, really hopes that he'll get to stay with the kind man for as long as possible. 

Before Dream can comment on the Elytrian’s nice words, Phil nervously questions, “I know it isn’t really a decoration, and I get it if it’s too much work, but could we maybe make a nest? It could just be something small in the corner, but I always sleep better in my nest.”

The second those words leave his lips, Phil curls in on himself, not understanding what possessed him to share something so vulnerable, especially since he wasn’t even supposed to want anything during his time in the cells. 

Instead of laughing or berating him though, Dream immediately says in an encouraging tone, “Yeah, we can totally make a nest! And you don't have to worry about the size of it, this room's way too big anyways. We can make whatever kind of nest you want." 

"Really?" Phil asks just above a whisper as he hesitantly lifts his head to meet Dream’s gaze, slowly uncurling from his hunched position when he sees the smile on Dream’s face.

"Yep! We can even get started on it after we finish breakfast," Dream confirms with his smile still in place, knowing from Tommy how important it is to have a nest, so, since Phil feels comfortable enough to ask for help building one, Dream's gonna make sure it's the best nest to ever exist. 

"I-I'd like that," Phil honestly says with a shy smile, so fucking excited at the thought of having a real nest, not one that he gets to keep for a few days before having to dismantle it so they could move to the next place. 

"Great, that's what we'll do then!” Dream happily says with a decisive nod, already thinking of where to find the best pillows and blankets in the Palace. “And maybe if you're feeling up to it afterwards, I could give you a proper tour of this place."

"That sounds really great. Thank you so much," Phil sincerely replies as tears rush to his eyes, feeling like he doesn't deserve all of the kindness Dream keeps showing him, but he hopes it'll never end.

“You don’t have to keep thanking me, but you’re welcome,” Dream says with a fond smile. “I’m more than happy to help you.”

“You’ve helped so fucking much, Dream,” Phil whispers in a low tone choked with emotion as a few tears slip down his cheeks, unable to contain them in the face of Dream’s unwavering generosity.

In response, Dream just smiles wider and gives Phil’s knee a reassuring squeeze, afterward continuing to eat his food.

After a few moments of just looking at Dream, trying to figure out how someone so kind is actually real, Phil begins eating his own food too, uncaring of the fact that it’s cold now when it’s the most flavorful thing he’s had in months. 

As they continue eating their breakfast in companionable silence, Phil can’t help but smile, thinking to himself that he could definitely get used to this. 

Chapter Text

“Wow, what is this place?” Phil questions in a low, disbelieving whisper as he steps out into the hallway with Dream, shocked to see numerous ornate tapestries and banners hanging up on the quartz walls, many of them lined with golden thread, something that is incredibly difficult to make.

“Phil, welcome to the Kinoko Kingdom Palace,” Dream says with a wide smile as he waves one of his gloved hands in a sweeping motion, unable to fight back a smirk as he continues, “King George has much more… elaborate taste than I do. If you think these hallways are nice, you should see his chambers. He’s got so many diamonds that it almost hurts my eyes.”

“I-I… You… What?” Phil splutters uncomprehendingly, certain that he misheard, that he isn’t actually in a fucking palace right now.

“Oh boy,” Dream mutters under his breath with a heavy sigh, his heart aching over the terribly lost and confused expression on Phil’s face.

Then, while gently taking both of Phil’s hands and holding them in his own, Dream kindly reassures the Elytrian, “I'm sure this is overwhelming, but you’re safe here. Honestly, there isn’t a safer place in the whole world. If this is too much, you can wait in my room while I get some blankets for your nest.”

Even though Phil’s mind is still reeling, he slowly shakes his head, not wanting to hide away in Dream’s room like a scared child, even though, quite honestly, he’s fucking terrified.

After all, it’s not every day that you just wake up and realize that you’re in a fucking palace, let alone in the wealthiest, most prosperous kingdom to ever exist. 

While still holding one of Phil’s hands, Dream begins leading the man to one of the linen closets that’ll have all the blankets they could ever need for Phil’s nest.

Unlike when Phil walked through these hallways the first time, when he was too relieved to finally have his wings free of those chains to pay any sort of attention to the path they took to get to the garden, he looks at his surroundings with rapt attention, trying his absolute hardest to take it all in. 

Back when he was in captivity, the few times he was let out of his cell, Phil desperately tried to pay attention to everything around him, hoping that maybe somehow, someway, he’d be able to escape. It never worked, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t try his damndest to get out.

Now, his careful attention is for an entirely different reason. He isn’t staring at the shimmering quartz walls and all their decorations in hopes of some kind of weakness or way out. Instead, he’s looking at them so intently because they’re beautiful.

It’s absolutely breathtaking, the way the sunlight shines through each of the stained glass windows they pass, the refracted light casting the room in a gorgeous rainbow glow. 

When they come across a large painting, Phil can’t help but stop to admire it, his hand still interlocked with Dream’s causing the man to pause as well.

“Who is this?” Phil asks in a low, awe-filled whisper as he raises his free hand toward the painting, really wanting to touch the canvas, to see if it feels just as magical as it looks.

In the painting, three men stand together, one of them slightly out in front of the others. The man in front has a light blue cloak that wraps around his shoulders and billows out around his regal form, a glistening golden crown atop his head, light brown hair that pokes out of his crown, his bangs falling just above the white goggles, the same color as his wide, pearly-white smile.

“That’s King George,” Dream answers with a smile as he points at the man wearing the crown, unmistakable fondness in his tone as he continues, “I can’t wait for you to meet him, Phil. He’s amazing. He’s the brightest ray of sunshine in my life. You wouldn’t even believe how much resources he’s put toward helping hybrids. Most humans don’t give a fuck about how hybrids are treated, but he saw something that wasn’t right and did everything he could to help fix it. He’s helped rescue thousands of hybrids.”

“Wow,” Phil breathes out in a mix of surprise and gratitude, hardly able to believe that someone so amazing actually exists, especially since he’s been told his entire life that humans are every hybrid’s biggest enemy, but Dream and George are certainly changing his thoughts on that. 

Next, Phil’s eyes stray toward the figure on the left, who’s painted in a splattering of bright orange, yellows, and reds, like the colors of a crackling fireplace on a chilly winter day. His jet-black hair obscures most of his features, but the smile on his face is clear as day, the man looking absolutely overjoyed as he leans against the king’s back, an arm slung over the royal’s shoulder.

“That’s Sapnap,” Dream explains as he points at the man in the painting, a twinkle in his eyes as he continues, “He’s the most loyal person I’ve ever met. He’d lay down his life to protect the people he cares about without hesitation. He’s always close by George’s side so he can keep the king safe. The only time Sap’s away from him is when he’s out rescuing hybrids. He’s one of the two leaders of the group who goes out and raids the compounds where hybrids are being held, arrests the bastards running the place and frees all the hybrids. He’s actually on his way to the place where I found you.”

“Wait, all those hybrids are gonna be rescued too?” Phil softly asks as he tears his eyes away from the painting, turning his hopeful gaze toward Dream as his heart leaps into his throat, desperately wanting for all those poor people who were trapped with him to be safe and free too.

“Yep, by this time tomorrow, all of them will be safe at one of the places we have dedicated to rehabilitating hybrids,” Dream happily replies with a wide smile, so glad that they’re able to help give so many hybrids better lives.

Phil opens his mouth to say how amazing that is, to thank Dream for just how much he does to help hybrids, but no sound comes out, his throat too choked with emotion to speak.

Dream seems to understand his unspoken sentiment though, simply smiling a little wider and giving Phil’s hand a reassuring squeeze. 

As he tries his best to fight back tears, Phil turns his attention to the final figure in the painting.

It’s someone he’s seen time and time again, standing behind George during each and every speech he’s seen on television, axe in hand and mask on his face. He doesn’t remember the man’s name, but he’d recognize that unsettling smiley face mask anywhere, one that screams danger and don’t fuck with me.

Despite all the times he’s seen the masked man on tv, he looks… different now. For one, his mask is pushed up slightly, clearly showing off the blinding smile on his face, so different from the ominous one plastered to his mask. Instead of standing ramrod straight with an axe in his hands, his posture is slouched and relaxed as he leans down, resting an arm on Sapnap’s and George’s shoulders, looking like there’s no place he’d rather be.

It’s… strange to see the masked man looking so casual and carefree, especially since Phil’s heard even the bravest of people speak about him with fear in their voices. 

“And that’s me,” Dream softly says as he points at the masked man, his words instantly causing Phil to round on him, the Elytrian's eyes so wide that they seem like they could fall out of their sockets at any moment.

“Fucking what?” Phil demands as he stares uncomprehendingly at Dream, certain that he didn’t just try to say that he’s the creepy fucker in the mask.

While nervously rubbing the back of his neck with that hand that isn’t holding Phil’s, Dream hesitantly mutters, “Heh, surprise. I kinda figured that you already knew that since, well, his name is Dream, my name’s Dream. There’s not many Dreams out there.”

For a few moments, Phil is dead silent, his mouth simply opening and closing in shock before, finally, he chokes out, “You mean to tell me that you’re h-him? The guy I’ve seen on tv with the king that everyone’s fucking terrified of?”

“Yep, that’s me,” Dream casually replies as he nods his head, then, while releasing Phil’s hand for the first time since leaving his bedroom, Dream pulls his mask out of his inventory while continuing, “See, this is my mask.”

“What the fuck,” Phil mutters in utter disbelief, his gaze darting from the mask in Dream’s hand to the man’s face. “You’re so… different.”

After carefully putting the mask back in his inventory, Dream takes both of Phil’s hands, holding them tenderly in his own as he softly says, “I hope this doesn’t make you scared of me. I’m still me, Phil. This mask is here to protect me and the people I care about. If I didn’t have it, I wouldn’t be able to go undercover to rescue hybrids. Not to mention that everyone I tried to rescue would probably be fucking terrified of me. I purposely act scary when I’m wearing my mask, that way people think it’s not worth dealing with me to try to hurt George.”

For a few moments, Phil simply stares at Dream, looking into the man’s emerald-green eyes as he searches for any trace of a lie, but all he finds is raw, earnest hope.

Even though part of him is scared of Dream now that he’s realized exactly who the man is, he reminds himself of everything Dream’s done for him.

How Dream pulled him out of hell.

How Dream freed him from the chains that held him for so long.

How Dream helped clean his wings, never once twisting or pulling his delicate feathers.

How Dream gave him a plushie to make him feel safer.

How Dream’s taking him to get blankets for a nest, simply because he asked the man for one.

He’s already done so much for Phil in the short time he’s known the kind man.

And so, with a heavy sigh, Phil releases Dream’s hands, instead pulling the man into a hug and wrapping his wings around him as he whispers, “I trust you, Dream.”

“Thanks, Phil,” Dream breathes out as tears rush to his eyes, hugging Phil back tightly as a smile creeps onto his lips, so fucking thankful that he didn’t lose Phil over this. “I trust you too.” 

It’s always a slippery slope, trying to decide when to tell the hybrids he helps what his place in the Palace is. If they find out too early, they’ll be too scared of the person they’ve seen wearing the mask, making it so hard to get them to trust him. But, at the same time, if they grow too close before Dream tells them, it can lead to the hybrid feeling frustrated and betrayed that he didn’t tell them sooner. Both have happened before and, even though it broke his heart, he simply had to walk away, to let Sapnap take over the job of helping that hybrid recover from their time in captivity. It absolutely sucks.

If Phil had wanted nothing to do with him now…

Fuck, that would’ve hurt.

Instead of pushing him away though, Phil hugged him, told him that he trusts him. 

And Dream’s determined to be worthy of Phil’s trust.

So, while smiling and pulling back from their hug, Dream takes Phil’s hand again and says, “Come on, let’s go build your nest.”

With a smile of his own, Phil nods his head, causing the two to continue their walk to get mountains of blankets for his nest.

Chapter Text

Armed with blankets from the linen closet, Dream and Phil return to his room, setting their blankets on his bed as Dream questions, “So, got any place in mind to put your nest?”

For a few moments, Phil just looks around the room, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as nervousness begins to take hold.

What if he says the wrong thing?

He’d really hate to have his nest somewhere that’s inconvenient for Dream…

Before he can begin to panic, Phil feels a gentle hand rest on his shoulder, the kind touch accompanied by Dream softly questioning, “Let’s start simple. Do you want your nest in a corner?”

Instantly, Phil nods his head, certainly not wanting his nest in the middle of the room, knowing that he’d feel horribly exposed like that.

“Great. Do you want to be out of sight of the door when you're in your nest?” Dream asks with a reassuring smile, glad that his questions seem to be helping Phil.

Once again, Phil nods, wanting to be able to just hide from sight while in his nest, to simply pretend like the rest of the outside world doesn’t exist, just him and his blankets. 

After moving his hand off of Phil’s shoulder, Dream moves to the corner of the room opposite the door, contemplating for a few moments before saying, “I think moving the bed a little more toward the door would make a nice space between that and the wall. That way you’d have something solid on three sides, and no one would be able to see you from the doorway. How does that sound?”

For a few moments, Phil just opens and closes his mouth in surprise, entirely at a loss for words, not at all expecting Dream to just describe what sounds like the perfect place for a nest. 

If he had a nest there, no one would be able to sneak up behind him, and he’d have his own little space.

But, in order to do that, they’d have to move the bed.

He doesn’t want Dream to have to do even more things for him, not when he’s already done so much.

So, with a heavy heart, Phil sadly mutters, “That sounds like too much work, Mate. We can just make it somewhere else.”

“Phil, nothing is too much when it comes to you,” Dream adamantly says as he crosses the distance between them, tenderly cupping the Elytrian’s cheek and jaw as he sincerely continues, “Whatever you need, I’ll do it, okay?” 

“You’re too good, Dream,” Phil murmurs as he leans into Dream’s soothing touch, tears rushing to his eyes over the man’s unwavering kindness. “I don’t deserve all this.”

While using his thumb to tenderly wipe away one of Phil’s tears, Dream reassures the man without hesitation, “You deserve so much better than how you’ve been treated. You should have never been treated like that. I’m here to make sure no one hurts you ever again, alright?”

Slowly, Phil nods his head, still unsure why Dream would go through so much trouble to help him, but Phil appreciates it.

He really fucking appreciates Dream, more than the wonderful man will ever know.

When Phil's tears finally run dry, Dream gently wipes them away one more time before saying with a sad smile, “Come on, let’s go build you that nest now.”

With one last sniffle, Phil nods his head, pulling away from Dream even though every instinct inside him screams to stay close, to wrap his arms and wings around the kind man and never let go.

After confirming with Phil that he wants his nest in that spot, Dream slowly shoves the bed away from the wall, Phil’s hands itching to go help him the whole time but, considering that even standing right now is making him feel so tired, he simply stays off to the side and watches.

Once there’s a three-block wide gap between the bed and wall, Phil slowly makes his way over to it, sitting down in that space once Dream gives him an encouraging smile.

“What do you think?” Dream asks with a small smile as he grabs a fuzzy lilac-colored blanket off the bed.

“I… I like it,” Phil hesitantly shares, really liking his little corner, feeling incredibly safe with a wall at his back and left side, the bed over on his right, and Dream standing in front of him. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Dream easily replies with a massive grin, his heart swelling with fondness over the shy little smile on Phil’s face. “I’m glad you like this spot. Now let’s build this thing! I’ll hand you the blankets so you don’t have to keep getting up and down, don’t want you to feel dizzy or anything.”

As Phil accepts the first blanket from Dream, his smile grows a little wider, once again utterly in awe over the man’s thoughtfulness and never-ending kindness.

Together, the two begin making the nest, Dream handing Phil blanket after blanket that the Elytrian carefully puts into its designated place, his body on autopilot as he places each one down, deciding based off of what feels right rather than any logical thought.

“Here’s the last one,” Dream happily says as he crouches down to give Phil the jet-black woolen blanket, unable to fight back a smile as the Elytrian takes the blanket with an excited chirp and lays it out on his left side, draping it over all the many other blankets already there.

Now that his nest is finished, Phil quickly lays down, his eyes slipping shut in absolute bliss as the heat of the blankets cocoons around him, the soft wool pressing in on him from all sides. 

It’s amazing, certainly the best one he’s ever had, yet he can’t help but notice that something is missing.

Something crucial isn’t here, yet he doesn’t know how to ask for it.

While kneeling down on the ground just outside of the nest, not wanting to invade Phil’s space by touching even a single blanket in the colorful nest, Dream curiously questions, “So, what do you think of it?”

“It’s really great,” Phil whispers honestly, absolutely loving the nest, but fuck, he just can’t ignore that missing piece, the glaring emptiness that’s steadily starting to invade his nest, his mound of blankets feeling much too big for only one person.

After a few moments of hesitation, Phil squeezes his eyes shut tightly, unable to stand seeing the judgment that he knows will be on Dream’s face as he softly says, “There’s something missing though. My flock isn’t here with me.”

Instantly, Dream’s expression absolutely crumbles, a shaky breath leaving his lips at the reminder that Phil has kids out there somewhere.

“Phil-” Dream slowly starts to say in a low, sad tone, but he doesn’t get the chance to even properly start his apology that Phil’s family isn’t here.

“Please,” Phil begs as he tries his best to choke back a sob, his chest feeling unbearably tight as tears steadily slip down his cheeks. “I need my flock. I need you, Dream.”

For a few moments, Dream just stares at Phil with wide, disbelieving eyes, sure that he misheard, that Phil didn’t just call him his flock. 

When a loud, anguished sob tears through Phil’s chest, Dream is finally pulled from his shocked stupor. Quickly, Dream climbs into Phil’s nest, being careful to not knock over any of the blankets that make up the outer walls, not wanting to accidentally ruin Phil’s nest, especially since he never expected to be allowed in it in the first place.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Dream murmurs reassuringly as he lays beside Phil, gently pulling the sobbing man against his chest and holding him firmly. “You’re okay, I’m here.”

Instantly, Phil wraps his arms and wings around flock, desperate to hold them close and never let them go, so fucking tired of being alone all the time.

Now that he’s being held, Phil slowly starts to calm down, his sobs instead becoming replaced by loud, needy chirps, his instincts in absolute shambles after all his time spent in a small, cramped cell, his only form of contact always intermingled with pain and new bruises.

“I’ve got you, Phil,” Dream whispers as he begins gently carding his fingers through the soft feathers on the underside of Phil’s wings, remembering how calm Phil was when he helped clean the man’s wings. “Just let it out, I won’t judge you, I promise.”

Reassured by flock’s kind words and loving touch on his wings, Phil slumps fully against them, his brain slowly turning off as he lays against flock’s chest, soft chirps leaving unbidden as he listens to their steady heartbeat. 

“Rest, Phil,” Dream coaxes with a terribly fond smile, afterward pressing a kiss to the top of the Elytrian’s head, giggling softly when that causes Phil to release a much louder chirp than all the other ones.

Without needing to be told twice, Phil gives into the tiredness that’s been tugging on him, a small smile on his face as drifts off to sleep, feeling safe and content wrapped up in his cozy new nest and the gentle, protective embrace of his flock.

“Sleep well,” Dream softly murmurs as he finally lets his hand fall away from Phil’s feathers, instead placing it on Phil’s lower back, his other gloved hand still cradling the Elytrian’s head to his chest.

After a few moments of just holding Phil close, Dream begins to feel tired as well, something about the warm blankets surrounding him and Phil’s gentle breaths against his chest making him feel extremely sleepy.

Soon, Dream drifts off to sleep as well, a smile gracing his lips as he dreams of watching those gorgeous wings carry the Elytrian into the sky, a massive grin on each of their faces as Phil soars above even the tallest of trees, entirely happy and carefree. 

Chapter Text

Knock, knock, knock.

Blearily, Phil opens his tired eyes, certain that something woke him up, but he isn’t sure what.

Normally, he’d be wide awake in an instant, his trembling limbs noisily rattling the chains trapping his wings and wrists as he tried his best to choke back his terror.

Back in his cell, every time he woke up immediately filled him with panic.

But here, there’s no such feelings, not when he’s surrounded by soothing warmth, not when gentle arms are loosely wrapped around him, holding him close. 

Knock, knock, knock.

With a heavy sigh, Phil slowly detangles himself from Dream’s sleeping form, certainly not wanting to wake up the man, especially when he remembers that Dream had a pretty rough nightmare not long ago. 

So, even though part of him wishes that Dream was by his side right now, Phil approaches the door on his own, nervously questioning, “Wh-Who’s there?”

“Bird Man!” Tubbo excitedly cheers from where he stands in the hallway, the bee hybrid’s voice instantly causing Phil to release a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding in, all his nervousness leaving in a rush now that he knows it’s only Tubbo there. “Can I come inside?”

While quietly opening the door, Phil gives Tubbo a small smile and softly says, “Hi, Mate. Dream’s sleeping, so maybe we should talk out here instead?”

When Tubbo nods his agreement, Phil shuffles out into the hallway, soundlessly shutting the door behind him. 

After awkwardly clearing his throat, Phil hesitantly questions, “Why’d you, uh, want to talk to me?”

“Come on, let’s go somewhere more comfortable. I think we should probably sit down for this,” Tubbo firmly says as he takes one of Phil’s hands and begins leading him down the hallway toward one of the Palace lounge rooms, replaying in his mind over and over again the words he wants to say to Phil, knowing that he can’t mess this up.

Meanwhile, Phil’s absolutely freaking out on the inside, feeling more and more anxious the farther away they get from Dream.

He doesn’t think that Tubbo’s going to hurt him, but he’d feel much safer if Dream was here too. 

Fuck, maybe he should’ve just woken Dream up…

It’s too late now though, because they’re both sitting on opposite ends of a plush beige couch, Tubbo staring appraisingly at Phil as the Elytrian fiddles with a loose thread on the fuzzy black hoodie Dream gave him. 

Finally, after releasing a nervous breath, Tubbo just jumps right into it, spewing out in an ever-so-eloquent ramble, “Phil, I absolutely have not slept since we talked last night. Like, at all. I just couldn’t stop thinking about something you said, and I need to ask you something really important, okay? Can I do that? I promise it’s nothing bad. In fact, it’ll be a really good thing if I’m right. Like a really, really good thing. I just don’t want you to freak out or anythi-”

“What’s your question, Mate?” Phil cuts off Tubbo’s rambling with a small smile, his fear ebbing away in the face of Tubbo’s endless flow of words, the now-familiar sound of his tangents always seeming to ease the tightness in Phil’s chest. 

“Right, right,” Tubbo mutters with a shaky exhale, then, in a slightly louder tone, he continues, “You told me your son’s name is Tommy. And, well, my best friend’s name is Tommy, and we’ve been trying to help him find his dad…”

Phil opens his mouth to speak, to ask the millions of questions that have begun to swarm his brain, but he can’t seem to get out even a single sound, because, prime, what if it’s actually his Tommy, his son.

After waiting a few moments for Phil to talk, but receiving nothing but shocked, heavy silence, Tubbo finally asks the question that’s been plaguing him for hours upon hours: “Do you have another son? Because Tommy has an older brother, Wilbur. He’s a phantom hybrid, and Tommy’s an avian…”

Upon hearing those words, those magical, beautiful words, a loud, ugly sob tears through Phil’s chest, one that’s filled with nothing but relief because, holy fucking shit, his sons, his boys, are right here. 

“Wow, I am really glad I asked you,” Tubbo mutters with a breathless chuckle as he closes the distance between him and the Elytrian, pulling Phil into a firm hug as he happily continues, “You have no idea how many hours I’ve been thinking about this. Because I’d feel like a real shit friend if I figured out you were Tommy’s dad and just didn’t say anything.”

Even though Phil’s mind is still absolutely reeling over the knowledge that his sons are here, they’re actually here, he releases a weak, watery chuckle at Tubbo’s words, so, so glad that the kid decided to ask him that. 

“Prime, Tommy will be so happy to see you again,” Tubbo whispers as he holds the Elytrian a little tighter, determined to never let anything bad happen to Phil again, not when he knows how badly Tommy has missed his dad. “Wil and Techno too. They’ll all be so glad to see you safe.”

“T-Tech?” Phil chokes out in between sobs, his heart soaring with hope at the thought of his sons and Techno all being here, right within his reach so he can pull them all into the biggest hug ever.

“Yeah, Technoblade’s here too, Dream rescued him a while ago,” Tubbo explains with a wide smile, feeling really fucking happy and giddy and excited right now, especially when he imagines Tommy’s reaction to seeing his dad again. “They’re all here. Want me to take you to them?”

Instantly, Phil eagerly nods his head, but, when another sob bursts free, he quickly shakes his head no, not wanting to be a crying, inconsolable mess in front of his sons. 

He already knows that, the second he holds his family in his arms again, he’ll start sobbing uncontrollably, but he’d rather not already be crying before he even sees them again.

Seeming to understand, Tubbo begins rubbing soothing circles against Phil’s back as he questions, “How about we go once you feel a little calmer, bossman? And we can wake up Dream so he can come too if you want?”

Instantly, Phil nods his head, certainly wanting Dream to be there when he’s reunited with his family again.

Not only is the man his flock, but, according to what Tubbo just said, Dream rescued Techno too. And from what he’s already learned about the terribly kind man, it wouldn’t be all that surprising if Dream’s helped Tommy and Wilbur somehow too.

It takes a little while, but Phil’s sobs finally come to an end, causing him to pull away and sheepishly murmur, “Sorry for crying all over you, Mate.”

“No worries,” Tubbo says with a wide smile, entirely unaffected by the damp spot on his shoulder from Phil’s tears. “Seemed like that was a good cry.”

“Yeah, it was,” Phil agrees with a shaky, watery smile as he wipes away the smudges left behind by his tears. “Thank you, Tubbo. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, Phil,” Tubbo happily says as he stands up, extending out a hand to help Phil to his feet, which the man takes with a grateful smile. “Tommy’s my best friend, so I’m really glad he’s got you back.”

Too choked up to speak, and really not wanting to start crying again, Phil just smiles a little wider and nods his head in understanding, hoping his silent gesture conveys at least the smallest part of how much this means to him.

In companionable silence, the two make their way back to Dream’s room, Phil unable to stop thinking about how, in a matter of minutes, he’ll actually get to see his family again.

Rather than quietly knocking on Dream’s door like the first time he showed up, Tubbo turns the knob and slams it open without a care in the world, shouting with a smirk, “Yo, Dream, time to get up! We’ve got big news!”

“Tubbo,” Dream tiredly groans in exasperation as he shoves his face deeper into the pillow, one of his gloved hands reaching out for Phil inside the nest so he can hold the man close while falling back asleep.

When he’s met with only soft blankets instead of the comforting heat of another person’s sleeping form, Dream bolts upright in alarm, the lingering tendrils of sleep instantly vanishing as he frantically asks, “Tubbo, where’s Phil?!”

“I’m right here, Mate,” Phil softly says, instantly wincing as soon as those words leave his lips, hating how weak and raspy his voice sounds from all his crying. 

“What’s wrong? Why were you crying?” Dream gently questions in a concerned tone as he quickly stands up and approaches Phil, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest at the thought of Phil being in pain while he was asleep and completely oblivious.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Phil quickly assures Dream with a smile, knowing that nothing could be wrong right now, not when he’s finally going to be with his family again. “I just talked to Tubbo and…”

Phil can’t continue talking, his throat once again becoming choked with emotion, just so overjoyed that his boys are safe, certain that they’ve been well taken care of with Dream around.

When Phil doesn’t finish his sentence, Tubbo steps in, explaining with a wide smile, “Dream, Phil is Tommy and Wilbur’s dad. We found him.”

“What?” Dream breathes out in a low, shocked tone, a smile slowly spreading onto his lips as he echoes, “We actually found you?”

“You found me,” Phil chokes out with a disbelieving chuckle, pulling Dream into a tight hug as he whispers, “Thanks, Dream. I’m so fucking thankful for everything you’ve done for me. It means the world to me that you’ve kept my family safe while I couldn’t.”

“Of course, Phil,” Dream sincerely murmurs as he holds Phil just as tightly, absolutely in awe that, after months of looking for the missing piece to their family, he’s actually found him. “It’s my pleasure to bring you all back together again.”

Phil doesn’t respond, can’t respond, too many emotions clouding his mind to let out even a single thought.

So, when Dream asks, “You ready to go see your family again?” Phil just eagerly nods, a blinding smile on the Elytrian’s face as he pulls back from their hug, so looking forward to wrapping his arms and wings around his family again, holding them close.

And once he has his family again, Phil will make sure to never, ever let them go.

Chapter Text

As the three begin walking through the hallway toward Wilbur’s room, Dream turns to Tubbo and questions, “Hey, Tubbs, wanna go get Tommy and bring him to Wil’s room? I’d hate to keep him waiting…”

“Sure thing!” Tubbo eagerly exclaims as he takes off darting down the hallway, ecstatic to be the one to tell his best friend that they finally found his dad. 

Once it’s just Dream and Phil in the hallway, he gently grabs one of Phil’s hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he questions, “So, how ya feeling?”

“Amazing. Excited. Terrified. But mostly excited,” Phil ever-so-eloquently blurts out with a nervous chuckle, hardly able to believe that he’s actually about to see Wil again right now.

“I’m glad you’re excited,” Dream replies with a soft smile, then, while giving Phil’s hand another gentle squeeze, he confidently continues, “And you have no reason to be worried. Wil’s gonna be so fucking happy to see you again.”

“Thanks, Mate,” Phil breathes with a shaky, relieved sigh, glad that Wilbur will be excited to see him too, especially since he’s so excited that he can barely refrain from sprinting down the hallway until he finds his son’s room. “Are we almost there?”

“Yep, it’s that door right there,” Dream easily replies with his smile still in place as he points at the second door on the left side of the hallway. “I should probably go in by myself so I can give him a warning. Don’t want to give him a heart attack or anything like that.”

Even though Phil really, really just wants to rush in there and hug his son, he sees the validity behind Dream’s words, causing him to reluctantly nod his head in agreement. 

“See you in a few,” Dream says with a wink, afterward approaching Wil’s door and tapping three times on it, the sound of it seeming much too deliberate and rhythmic for it to be a simple knock, making the Elytrian wonder if they have some kind of code.

Phil’s suspicion is proven true when, without even opening the door to check who it is, he hears Wilbur excitedly shout, “Hey, Dream! Give me a minute!”

Upon hearing his son’s voice, his boy’s wonderful, amazing voice, Phil bites down hard on his bottom lip, not wanting to start sobbing all over again, but it’s nearly impossible to hold back his tears, especially when he’s so fucking relieved to know that Wilbur’s safe, literally just a few blocks away from him.

After a few moments, the door opens and Dream steps inside, putting both the man and his son out of Phil’s line of sight.

Slowly, the Elytrian creeps toward the door, wanting nothing more than to get a glimpse of his son, to confirm with his own eyes that Wil’s safe. 

“So, what’s up?” Wilbur questions as he plops down on his bed, gently pushing his acoustic guitar off to the side, which he had been playing when Dream showed up. “You doing okay after last night?”

After hearing that, Phil’s eyebrows raise in surprise, shocked to discover that Dream must’ve gone to his son after the nightmare he had.

They must be close, much closer than Phil originally thought…

“Yeah, I’m doing good,” Dream honestly replies without hesitation, then, with a wide smile, he continues, “I’m actually doing really good. I have great news, Wil!”

“I’m listening…” Wilbur says in a curious tone as he sits up straighter, wondering what has his best friend so excited.

“We found him,” Dream happily says as he takes both of Wilbur’s gloved hands, holding them gently in his own as he continues, “We found your dad.”

“Wh-What?” Wilbur stutters out after a few moments of tense, heavy silence, his deep brown eyes wide in pure shock and disbelief. “Y-You… What?”

“I found him yesterday, he’s safe now, Wil,” Dream patiently explains, giving Wilbur all the time he needs to process this, knowing how much this means to his friend. “He’s actually waiting out in the hallway right now. Want him to come inside?”

After a few moments of just replaying Dream’s words over and over again in his mind, Wilbur jerkily nods his head.

“Phil, you can come in now,” Dream calls out with a massive grin, unable to miss the way Wilbur’s gaze snaps toward the doorway the second he hears his dad’s name.

Time seems to still as Phil steps into Wilbur’s room, his gaze instantly zeroing in on Wil, tears rushing to his eyes as he takes in his son’s familiar form. Some things are different, like the dark bags under his son's eyes, portraying a new weariness that his soft features didn’t have before. The gloves on his hands are unusual as well, especially since he remembers having to fight with a much younger Wil to even put a coat on during the winter, the boy complaining about the stifling feeling of wearing so many clothes. Now though, he wears gloves and a turtleneck despite the comfortably warm temperature inside the Palace, the sight raising alarm bells in his mind and becoming something that he certainly needs to ask about.

Now’s not the time to ask though, not when Wilbur’s standing up from his bed and rushing toward him.

As tears rapidly slip down his cheeks, Wil stands in front of his dad, one of his gloved hands hovering out in front of him, wanting to hug Phil and never let him go, but he’s worried that touching him might shatter this fragile moment, might cause him to lose his dad all over again.

“Hi, Mate,” Phil whispers in a low voice choked with emotion, slowly reaching out a trembling hand to take hold of Wilbur’s outstretched one. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Dad,” Wilbur chokes out as a sob bursts free, unable to contain his tears as joy fills every part of him, so fucking happy to finally have his dad back.

After hearing his son start to cry, Phil releases Wilbur’s hand, instead pulling him into a bone-crushing hug, Wil sobbing even harder when warm, soft wings wrap around them both, blocking out the rest of the world.

With a fond smile, Dream gets up from his place on Wil’s bed and silently leaves the room, sitting down in the hallway a little ways away, wanting to give them a chance to be alone after many months spent apart.

For a while, Phil simply holds his son as Wil sobs violently and uncontrollably, silent tears slipping down his own cheeks as he smiles widely, finally feeling whole now that he’s able to hold his son in his arms again.

Even though Phil wants to just stay in this moment forever, he can feel the strain in his legs from standing up for so long, his body still terribly weak from his time spent trapped in the cells. 

“Think we can sit down?” Phil softly questions as he continues holding Wil close, hating the thought of letting his son go, but also not wanting his knees to give out underneath him because he didn’t listen to his body’s needs. “I’m still feeling pretty weak…”

“Y-Yeah, let-t’s g-go,” Wil stumbles over his words as the last of his sobs die out, pulling back from the hug and grabbing Phil’s hand to carefully lead his dad over to his bed.

“You play guitar now?” Phil asks with a shaky smile as he takes note of the guitar at the foot of Wilbur’s bed, his heart aching painfully at the thought of missing his son’s first ever time playing it, certain that they would’ve had a good laugh at how terrible it sounded.

While clearing his throat against the uncomfortable tightness he feels, Wilbur nods his head, then promises, “I’ll definitely play something for you later. Can’t sing for shit right now though.”

Phil can’t help but release a breathless little chuckle at that, so looking forward to hearing his son play guitar, already imagining the massive hug he’ll pull Wil into the second he finishes whatever beautiful song he plays.

Slowly, Phil lowers himself onto the bed, laying down on his side and opening up his arms to invite Wilbur to join him.

Without hesitation, Wilbur lays down beside his dad, snuggling up against his chest and tightly wrapping his arms around him while whispering, “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“I’m glad to be back,” Phil honestly replies, seriously so happy to be here right now, his son held snugly against his chest. 

While draping one of his wings over Wil, cocooning them both in their own little world of comforting warmth, Phil curiously questions, “How have you been lately, Mate?”

“Honestly, it’s fucking sucked not having you here,” Wilbur honestly admits with a bitter laugh, hoping that he’ll never, ever have to be without his dad like this again. “If Dream hadn’t found us when he did, we’d be dead.”

For a few moments, Phil can’t speak, simultaneously overcome with grief and gratitude. 

Grief over the fact that his sons suffered, had nearly died, while he wasn’t there to protect them. 

Gratitude for Dream, the man who freed him from his chains, who rescued Techno, who saved his sons, who is kinder than anyone he’s ever met before.

“I’m glad he was here for you when I couldn’t be,” Phil manages to choke out, hating how bitter those words taste on his tongue, wishing with all his heart that he hadn’t been captured.

Instantly picking up on his dad’s distress, Wilbur holds him a little tighter and says in a reassuring tone, “You’re here now though.”

“Damn right I am,” Phil adamantly says without hesitation, ready to fight until his last breath to keep his family safe. “And I’m never leaving you again.”

“Good,” Wilbur simply replies with a smile, some of the tightness leaving his chest after hearing Phil’s promise. “Love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Wil. So much,” Phil firmly says without hesitation, smiling through his tears as he holds Wilbur close.

Even though things aren’t perfect, even though Tommy and Techno still aren’t by his side yet, Phil feels the happiest he has in a very long time, everything feeling right with the world again now that his eldest son is held safely and securely in his arms.

Chapter Text

“PHIL!” Tommy shouts as he sprints through the hallways of the Kinoko Kingdom Palace, drawing out his dad’s name as he races toward Wilbur’s room, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest from more than just the exertion of running.

His heart is beating insanely fast because, holy shit, he’s about to see his dad again!

He can hardly believe that this is real, that they actually found him. 

Dream actually found him!

Tommy has no idea how Dream managed it, but he’s so fucking glad that he did. 

Each time Dream promised that he’d help find their dad, of course Tommy believed him; Dream’s so fucking poggers and badass, so he knew that, if anyone could find Phil, it’d be him for sure. 

But, as the months started to drag on, it became harder and harder to hold onto that same hope. 

He knew that Dream was still trying his absolute best to find their dad, which he really fucking appreciates, but he had to face reality that the odds of Dream finding a corpse instead became more and more likely as time stretched closer to it being a whole year since he had seen his dad.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that ever again, because his dad is here, his dad is finally safe.

Once he reaches his brother’s room, Tommy skids to a halt right in front of the door, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his eyebrows raise in surprise. 

He expected the hallway to be empty, certain that Wilbur and his dad would be inside the bedroom. And while that must be true, someone else is there, sitting all by himself and staring at the quartz floor like a fucking weirdo. 

Before Tommy can ask Dream what he’s doing out in the hallway, the man in question looks up at him, a fond smile on his face as he waves one of his gloved hands toward Wilbur’s room while gently encouraging, “Go on, there’s someone who can’t wait to see you again.”

After a few moments of staring at Dream, Tommy just shakes his head to clear away his questions, simply deciding to let the man do whatever the fuck he wants, even if it means sitting out in the hallway for some strange reason. 

“Will do, Big D,” Tommy replies with a massive smile of his own, afterward looking away from Dream, instead getting ready to go through the door, getting ready to actually see his dad again.

Except, before he works up the nerve to step inside the bedroom, Tommy turns back to Dream, wanting to thank the man for everything he’s done for him and his family, but he can’t seem to get the words out, his smile falling away as his throat becomes terribly tight from all the emotions threatening to overcome him.

So, instead of thanking Dream verbally, Tommy closes the distance between them, kneeling in front of Dream and pulling him into a tight hug.

While chuckling softly, Dream hugs Tommy in return and happily says, “I’m glad I was able to help bring you all back together again.”

Tommy just eagerly nods his head as he keeps clutching to Dream’s back with all his might, hoping that the man knows just how fucking amazing and awesome and so poggers he is, hoping that Dream knows that he’s one-hundred-percent the kindest person that Tommy has ever met. 

After a few more moments of hugging, Dream gently pushes Tommy away while lightly teasing, “As much as I love your hugs, I think there’s someone else who’d much rather be hugging you right now.”

At first, Tommy simply flips Dream off, not wanting to let go of him yet.

But, once Dream’s words actually register in his mind, he quickly stumbles to his feet again and rushes toward Wilbur’s door because, holy fucking shit, his dad is actually inside there!

After giving Dream a shaky but grateful smile, Tommy walks right into Wilbur’s room, allowing him to see two figures lying in bed, one of them fit with a wonderfully familiar set of wings that cause his own to happily fluff up against his back, an excited chirp escaping him at the sight of his dad.

Without conscious thought, Phil chirps in reply, the sound causing Tommy to release a giddy bout of laughter, his heart absolutely soaring with happiness at the wonderfully familiar noise. 

“Tommy,” Phil whispers in a reverent tone from where he lays with Wilbur curled up in his arms, part of him tempted to stand up and go over to Tommy, but his stupid bird instincts are screaming at him don’t move, don’t leave flock, stay with flock, flock flock flock flock.

“Hey, Phil,” Tommy says in a low, uncharacteristically soft tone, unable to be his usual loud, boisterous self, not when tears are steadily slipping down his cheeks over the sight of his dad finally being safe and sound after so many long months. “I’ve missed you, Dad.”

“I’ve missed you too, Toms. So fucking much,” Phil whispers as his own tears begin to race down his cheeks, a watery smile spreading onto his features as he continues, “Come here.”

Without needing to be told twice, Tommy scrambles over to the bed, clumsily crawling on top of Wilbur in his haste to be with his dad again, his older brother complaining in a sleep-rough voice when a boney knee jabs into his back.

The second Tommy slides into place in between Phil and Wilbur, the Elytrian settles his wing on top of both his boys, wrapping his arms tightly around Tommy as he murmurs through his tears, “Oh, Tommy. My baby boy. You’re safe.”

“Of course I’m safe,” Tommy immediately confirms, some of his usual gusto returning as he loudly continues with a smirk, “And I’m a very big man, Phil, not a little boy!”

A mix between a chuckle and a sob tears through Phil’s chest as he holds Tommy a little tighter, so fucking happy to hear his son joking around and being so… Tommy, the knowledge that some things still haven’t changed during his time in captivity healing another little part of him.

With a loud, annoyed groan, Wilbur scoots closer to the two, wrapping his arms around Tommy’s back and using the boy’s wings as a fluffy pillow as he tiredly complains, “Stop being so loud and let me fucking sleep.”

“Someone’s just jealous that dad’s holding me instead of you,” Tommy playfully taunts as he shifts his wings, ripping them out from under Wilbur’s head, refusing to let his brother sleep on top of his wings like they’re a fucking pillow.

“Say that again and I’ll throw you off the bed, prick,” Wilbur growls as he holds Tommy even tighter, using this firmer grip to roll them both out from underneath Phil’s wing.

Then, to prove that his words aren’t just an empty threat, Wilbur shoves Tommy toward the edge of the bed, the younger boy yelping as he nearly falls off, the only thing keeping him up being Wilbur’s hold on his arm.

“Stop it! Fucking stop, Wilbur, let me go!” Tommy angrily shouts as he tries to make his way back over to the middle of the bed, but Wilbur’s freakishly long arm prevents him from getting back to the safety of his dad’s wings.

Before Wilbur can follow through with Tommy’s request and let him go, something that would most definitely cause him to fall onto the floor, Phil interrupts their squabbling while exclaiming with a massive grin over their antics, “Boys, that’s enough! You don’t need to fight over who gets to be next to me, I can hold you both.”

Then, to prove his point, Phil rolls over onto his back, the position not one he usually lays in since it traps his wings beneath him and leaves his more vulnerable stomach and throat open to attack, but he’ll gladly make an exception for his sons.

Instantly, both the boys stop their fighting and rush over to Phil, Wilbur slipping under Phil’s right arm and Tommy under his left.

With an even wider smile, Phil pulls them both close to his chest as he sincerely whispers, “My beautiful boys, I’m so glad you’re safe.”

In reply, Tommy and Wilbur each hold Phil a little tighter, both of them softly saying, “Love you, Dad.”

“I love you both too. With all my heart,” Phil responds without a moment of hesitation, afterward pressing a kiss to the top of each boy’s head, that touch causing them to smile through their tears as they snuggle a little closer to their dad.

Even though the brothers often fight over even the smallest of things, in that moment, they can certainly agree on at least one thing: they’re never, ever letting anyone take their dad away from them again.

And if anyone ever tries to separate them again, they’ll make sure it’s the last thing they ever do.

Feeling comforted by their own silent promises, Tommy and Wilbur soon drift off to sleep in their father’s arms, each of them resting with more ease than they have in many, many months.

For a few moments, Phil simply basks in the feeling of holding his boys in his arms, tears freely streaming down his cheeks as he smiles so hard that his jaw begins to ache, but he wouldn’t want to change a thing.

Well, he wouldn’t want to change most things.

Even though he’s so, so glad to have his boys back, there’s someone missing.

In fact, there’s two someones missing.

After awkwardly clearing his throat, Phil hesitatingly calls out, “Dream? Are you still here?”

The second he faintly hears Phil say his name from his spot in the hallway, Dream jumps to his feet and rushes to the door, standing in the doorway as he says, “Hey, Phil. What’s up?”

“Is Techno here too?” Phil asks in a low, hopeful tone, wanting more than anything to hold his boys and his best friend in his arms.

With a sad, sympathetic smile, Dream explains, “Not right now. He’s out with Sapnap rescuing the other hybrids in the place you were at.”

“Oh…” Phil mutters dejectedly, afterward trailing off, his heart stuttering in his chest at the thought of Techno seeing the place Phil had been trapped in or, even worse, getting hurt before he can hug the bunny hybrid again. 

“Don’t worry, they should be back by sometime tomorrow,” Dream quickly reassures Phil, hating the man’s crestfallen expression, the sight of it making him want to pull the Elytrian into a great big hug. “If you want, I could wait out at the front of the Palace for him, that way he knows right where to find you.”

For a few moments, Phil considers asking Dream to stay, considers asking the man if he could hold him like he does his sons, wanting his flock to all be back together again.

But he knows Techno, knows that, the second the man finds out that Phil’s here, he’ll go on a rampage, frantically looking everywhere for him.

So Phil simply nods his head while softly saying, “Thanks, Mate. For everything.”

“You’re welcome, Phil. Sleep well,” Dream fondly says, afterward quietly shutting the door and slipping out into the hallway again, sitting a little ways away from the bedroom, determined to protect Phil and his sons while they rest.

Only moments after Dream left, Phil allows his eyes to slip shut, swiftly drifting off to sleep, all three of them sleeping peacefully in the arms of their loving family.

Chapter Text

Several hours later, Wilbur slowly starts to wake up, blinking tiredly as he snuggles further into the warmth against his chest, a wide smile gracing his lips at the familiar brush of wonderfully soft wings.

His dad is finally home safe.

He’s actually here!

That thought makes Wilbur feel all warm and fuzzy inside, makes him want to stay here for all of eternity, simply wrapped up in the embrace of his loving family.

But it seems like his stomach doesn’t share that same sentiment, an annoyed groan leaving his lips when his stomach releases a loud, obnoxious rumble, demanding food like the little prick it is.

For a few moments, Wilbur just squeezes his eyes shut tightly, hoping that, maybe if he ignores it, the problem will just go away.

Surprise surprise, his problem doesn’t disappear. Instead, his stomach makes its displeasure known once again, the sound of it so loud that he almost worries that it might wake up Tommy and Phil.

With a heavy, tired sigh, Wil slowly crawls out of bed, cursing under his breath when he nearly kicks his guitar to the ground below, having forgotten that he just left the instrument laying at the foot of his bed.

After carefully putting his beloved guitar back in its case and tucking it under his bed, Wilbur exits his room, simply walking through the wall, unable to be bothered with opening the door.

Time to get breakfast now.

Or is it lunch?

Well, whatever time it is, he’s gonna fucking devour a massive steak.

That’ll be great.

Before Wilbur can spend any more time thinking about his upcoming meal, he pauses in the middle of the hall, his eyes widening in disbelief when he sees someone sleeping on the floor in the hallway.

And, go figure, he knows just who that person is.

That mother fucker has the worst sleep habits ever.

As Wilbur quickly approaches Dream, his hunger temporarily fades away, instead being replaced with a mixture of outrage and disappointment as he demands in a raised tone, "Why the fuck are you out here in the hallway?!"

"Huh?!” Dream yelps as he leaps to his feet, all signs of sleep vanishing instantly as he pulls out his axe, quickly assessing his surroundings for whatever threat woke him up.

But, instead of finding someone sneaking into the Palace in order to hurt the people he loves, Dream only sees a very pissed-off Wilbur, the sight causing him to lower his axe as he asks in a low, confused tone, “What? Wilbur?"

“Dream,” Wilbur grits out the man’s name as he closes the distance between them, uncaring of the axe in his friend’s hand as he jabs a finger against his chest while angrily continuing, “You better have a good reason for sleeping on the fucking floor, because you know how much I hate when you do that.”

Sheepishly, Dream sends his axe back into his inventory, ducking his head low as he mutters in an embarrassed tone, “Sorry, Wil. I, uh, just wanted to make sure you all would be safe, so I was gonna keep watch out here. But I guess I fell asleep…”

Then, much louder than he spoke before, suddenly realizing something he forgot, Dream exclaims in an alarmed tone, “Wait, fuck, I told Phil I'd stay out front so Techno knew where to find him! I need to go-"

"Nuh-uh, not happening,” Wilbur firmly says without hesitation, moving his finger away from Dream’s chest to instead place a hand on the man’s shoulder, keeping him from leaving as he says in an exasperated tone, “You'll probably pass out in a fucking bush if I let you go out there."

"But-" Dream starts to protest, not wanting to break his promise to Phil of showing Techno where to find him, but Wilbur isn’t having it.

"Nope, no buts,” Wilbur cuts Dream off without hesitation, having already dealt with the stubborn prick enough times to know that, if he doesn’t push hard, Dream will find some excuse to get out of this, and there’s no way in hell he’s about to let his friend go sleep outside or some shit. “Now come lay down with me in an actual bed. You should've just come here in the first place."

For a few moments, Dream is silent, then, after awkwardly clearing his throat, he embarrassedly murmurs, "I didn't want to be a third wheel or anything."

Sensing how uncomfortable Dream is now, Wilbur decides to lay off a bit, trying to make his friend feel a little more at ease by lightly teasing, "That's already Tommy's job. He just will not go away sometimes, no matter how many hints I giv-"

"Seriously, Wil,” Dream softly interrupts with a bitter smile, appreciating the phantom hybrid’s attempt at humor, but now is not the time. “You've finally got your dad back. I'm sure you'd rather spend time with him when I'm not hanging around."

"Drea-" Wilbur starts to say with a frown, suddenly realizing that this goes much deeper than he first thought, but he doesn’t even get the chance to properly start his reassurances.

"I'm sorry, I'm totally ruining your happy mood right now, aren't I?” Dream questions with a bitter laugh, feeling tears begin to sting the corners of his eyes as he continues, “I’ll just go so you can get back to your family."

Quickly, Dream turns his back to Wilbur and starts rushing down the hallway, not wanting Wil to see him cry right now, but he doesn’t get very far before a careful and kind hand snakes around his wrist, preventing him from leaving.

With a sad yet fond smile, Wilbur moves so he’s standing right in front of Dream, tenderly wiping away the tears that have started to slip down his friend’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Dream whispers as he squeezes his eyes shut tightly, the tears streaming down his cheeks even more rapidly now, but Wilbur keeps gently brushing them away with his thumbs.

When Wilbur opens his mouth to speak, Dream expects some type of assurance, maybe for his friend to tell him that it’ll all be okay and that he doesn’t need to cry.

He sure as hell doesn’t expect Wilbur to mutter with a chuckle, "Dream, you are so unbelievably stupid sometimes."

Instantly, Dream bristles, trying to jerk out of Wilbur’s hold as he growls, "No I'm not-"

"You really are,” Wilbur replies as he pulls Dream tight against his chest, completely ignoring the man’s half-assed attempts to pull away. “But it's okay, I still love you."

Then, in a much more serious tone, Wilbur firmly promises, “I’m not replacing you, Dre. I’ve got my dad back, and I’m really fucking happy about that, but you’re still my best friend. Nothing’s going to change that, alright?”

“Really?” Dream hesitantly questions with a sniffle, hardly daring to believe that Wilbur’s words are true, but he really, really wants them to be.

“Of course, Dre,” Wilbur adamantly says without hesitation, gently carding his fingers through Dream’s hair as he continues, “I can’t imagine my life without you. You mean the world to me. I’m not leaving you, alright? Even if Dad wants to go out and find our own place to live, I’ll convince him to stay here. This is my home, and I’m not about to leave it.”

“I love you so fucking much,” Dream chokes out against the tightness building in his throat, hugging Wilbur back fiercely, never wanting to let him go.

In reply, Wilbur simply holds Dream tighter as well, gently pressing a kiss to Dream’s forehead that causes the man to release a watery laugh.

It’s at that moment that Wilbur’s stomach decides to make its neediness known once again, growling terribly loud, the awful sound making Wilbur’s cheeks turn a bright shade of pink.

With a fond chuckle, Dream asks while sniffling, “Hungry?”

“Starving,” Wil replies instantly, his stomach once again growling, as if it is trying to confirm Wilbur’s words. 

Then, with a smirk, Wilbur continues, “I was coming out to get food, and then I saw some loser sleeping on the floor. Big L.”

“Fuck off,” Dream mutters as he playfully shoves Wil away from him, rolling his eyes fondly when Wilbur overdramatically stumbles into the wall from his light push.

“You’re such a dick,” Wilbur pouts as he crosses his arms over his chest, sticking his tongue out at Dream when the man raises a disbelieving eyebrow at his childish antics. 

“Oh really?” Dream questions with a chuckle, then, while beginning to walk down the hallway, he continues with a smirk, “Would a dick be going to make you breakfast right now?”

“I take back every bad thing I’ve ever said about you,” Wilbur immediately says as he rushes after Dream, smiling triumphantly when his words cause Dream to giggle.

“Good, you better,” Dream smugly says as Wilbur catches up to him, lacing their hands together as he teases, “Because you know I could easily just ask one of the servants to make you some food instead.”

“But Dream, everyone knows you’re the best cook here,” Wilbur whines as they make their way toward the kitchen, not wanting to eat food made by anyone else now that Dream said he’d cook breakfast.

“You really think flattery is gonna get you a nice breakfast?” Dream asks with a smirk as he glances at Wilbur, fighting back a smile when he sees that the phantom hybrid is pouting again.

“Pwetty Pwease,” Wilbur pleads in a loud, over-exaggerated tone as he squeezes Dream’s hand, feeling terribly giddy when Dream releases a wheezing laugh at that.

Once his laughter dies down, Dream finally acquiesces, “Fine, I’ll make you breakfast.”

With a wide smile, Wilbur excitedly says, “Yes, thank you! And then afterwards, when we’re so fucking full we can’t move, we can cuddle together.”

While rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Dream agrees with a huff, “Sure, we can do that.”

“You’re the best,” Wil happily says as he brings Dream into a quick hug.

Once he pulls back from their hug, Wilbur practically drags Dream the rest of the way to the kitchen, acting like an excited little kid in a candy store, the sight filling Dream with so much fondness that he’s almost worried that his heart might burst.

After reaching the kitchen, Wilbur hops up and sits on one of the counters, happily chatting away with servants preparing today’s meals for the king and his guests in the Palace.

As Dream begins cooking their breakfast, feeling wonderfully at home among the light chatter and sizzling food, he can’t fight back a happy, content smile.

It’s hard to believe that, just mere hours ago, he sat alone in the hallway, silent sobs wracking his body at the thought of losing his friends, at the thought of losing Wilbur, now that their family’s back together.

After talking to Wil though…

Well, he kinda feels like an idiot.

Because Wilbur made it pretty damn clear that Dream won’t be getting rid of him anytime soon.

And he wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

Chapter Text

Side by side, Techno and Sapnap briskly walk through the cramped stone hallways of the underground hybrid auction they just successfully raided, each of their gazes raking over every inch of the many cells, wanting to be certain that no more hybrids are trapped in this awful place. 

As Techno continues making his way toward the end of the hallway, he doesn’t notice Sapnap falling behind, not until his friend hesitantly questions, “Uh, Techno? You might want to come look at this…”

Cautiously, Techno backtracks to where Sapnap is, his nose scrunching up in disgust at the putrid smell that greets him upon entering the cell.

Much like the other cells, this one is cold, dark, and damp, fit with several places on the wall and ceiling where rusty iron chains dangle down, seeming as though this cell was supposed to hold some wild beast, not whatever poor hybrid was kept in this horrible cell. 

After glancing around and not seeing anything out of the ordinary compared to the other cells, Techno asks in a gruff tone, “And you brought me in here because?”

“Look at this,” Sapnap says as he finally turns away from the corner he was staring at, lighting a torch to show Techno what captured his attention, the bunny hybrid’s eyes less adept at seeing in the dark than the blaze hybrid’s own.

When Techno’s gaze finally lands on the now well-lit corner, his heart leaps into his throat, a choked gasp of air rushing from his lungs as his chest becomes terribly tight, unable to even breathe as he takes in the sight before him.

He can't even breathe because he sees a pile of tattered black and silver feathers piled haphazardly in the corner, as if someone was in the process of sweeping them away so a new hybrid could occupy the cell before giving up.

“I know you said Phil has wings…” Sapnap tentatively says before trailing off, hoping that those don’t belong to Techno’s best friend, the pile of discarded feathers making him terribly worried about what state the Elytrian’s wings might be in.

Techno doesn’t respond, doesn’t even hear Sapnap, not when he’s rushing toward the messy heap of feathers and sinking to his knees beside it, reaching toward a greasy, blood-coated feather with trembling hands.

“Oh Phil,” Techno murmurs in a weak, absolutely heart-broken tone, tears rapidly slipping down his cheeks as he cradles the mangled feather close to his chest.

He knows how much pride Phil takes in his wings, knows how much trust it took the Elytrian to let Techno first touch them, so to see his best friend’s feathers strewn to the ground, bloodied and neglected, it hurts. 

It really hurts.

For a few moments, Techno just clutches the feather like a lifeline, his breathing heavy and shaky as he tries to push away the many jumbled thoughts in his mind, tries to push away the thought that these feathers mean they’re too late, that these feathers mean that Phil is dead-

No.

He can’t be dead.

The world better hope otherwise, because, if Phil really is dead, Techno will raise hell on everyone who ever hurt the person he loves most.

“Techno?” Sapnap hesitantly questions in a worried tone, a part of him wanting to reach out and comfort his friend who’s obviously hurting, but he’s smart enough to know that doing so would probably lead to nothing more than a broken hand or snapped wrist, especially since the bunny hybrid seems like he’s only a moment away from pulling out a weapon and stabbing whatever’s closest to him, which, unfortunately for Sapnap, just so happens to be him. 

Techno stiffly rises to his feet, clinging tightly to the feather in his left hand, pulling out his axe with his right one and muttering through gritted teeth, “I need to find the person in charge of this place. Now.”

“Okay, Buddy, let’s go talk to them,” Sapnap assures Techno in a placating tone, slowly walking backward out of the cell with his hands level to his chest, keeping his gaze locked on Techno’s teary, blood-red eyes.

Even though he trusts Techno, he really does, Sapnap knows that the bunny hybrid’s loyalties lie with his family first and foremost.

And, well, if Techno thought that Sapnap was a danger to them…

He’d see exactly why they called Technoblade ‘The Blood God’ during his time in the ring.

While still keeping the bunny hybrid in his line of sight, Sapnap leads them down to the end of the hallway, continuing through several other passageways before they reach an office.

And in that office kneels a stout, burly man, his hands tied behind his back with coarse rope, several of King George’s men standing on each side of the seller, all of them with swords at the ready in case they need to put an end to the pathetic man’s life.

“You all should back up,” Sapnap tells the guards with a sheepish grin, his words being the only warning they receive before Techno enters the room too, an angry snarl twisting his features, one that promises lots of pain and death to anyone who angers the bunny hybrid right now.

Without needing to be told twice, the men scramble away from their prisoner, standing off in the corner farthest from Techno, Sapnap soon joining them, all of them knowing that it is very necessary to distance themselves from The Blood God’s wrath.

For a few moments, Techno simply stands directly in front of the seller and stares down at the trembling man, clear hatred and disdain shining in his blood-red eyes.

Then, with his furious, blood-thirsty snarl still in place, Techno holds up Phil’s feather and questions harshly through gritted teeth: “Where. Is. The. Elytrian.”

“I-I d-don’t-t kn-kno-” The bumbling seller frantically starts to say while trying to scoot away from Techno, but the desk at his back prevents him from going anywhere, leaving him entirely trapped, just like the hundreds of hybrids he’s treated as property in order to become rich.

“I’ll only ask you one more time before I start stabbin',” Techno interrupts in a raised tone as he lifts his axe toward the seller’s throat, reveling in the absolute terror in the cruel man’s dark eyes. “Where is he?”

“S-S-Someone b-bought it-t-t!” The seller frantically shouts as he leans his head back as far as possible, trying in vain to escape the deadly axe and deranged bunny hybrid looming above him. “H-He b-b-bought it y-yesterday!”

“Who?” Techno demands in a low snarl as he presses the axe closer, the voices in his mind screaming even louder when a small bead of blood bubbles up from the man’s throat, screaming even louder as the seller’s eyes become impossibly wider in unadulterated terror.

The seller doesn’t answer his question, instead trembling like a leaf, incoherent pleas and fearful babbles tumbling from his lips as he begs for mercy.

From where he stands off to the side, Sapnap sees Techno pull his axe away from the man’s neck, sees the way his gaze hardens resolutely, the kind of look someone gets when they decide that the only option left is to take the life of another person.

And while Sapnap understands it, understands the way Techno wants the seller to be nothing but a bloody, lifeless corpse, he knows that it can’t happen, at least not yet.

So, while hoping this isn’t the biggest mistake of his life, Sapnap steps toward Techno and the seller, his hands once again raised in a placating gesture as he says in the calmest tone he can manage, “Techno, let me take it from here, okay? If he dies, we won’t be able to find Phil. We need him to talk, then we can kill him, alright?”

Time seems to pass slowly as Techno’s blood-thirsty gaze shifts onto Sapnap, his grip on his axe growing even tighter, as if the bunny hybrid is expecting a fight.

But Sapnap has no intention of fighting Techno, at least not physically. 

So, with a shaky smile, Sapnap softly continues, “Come on, Tech, let me help you. Please.”

That little word seems to be what finally does it because Techno releases a shaky exhale and steps back, still clutching to his axe and the feather desperately, but he at least doesn’t look seconds away from stabbing anyone now.

“Thank you,” Sapnap says with a proud, triumphant smile, unable to even imagine how incredibly hard that must’ve been for his friend, especially with how loud the voices must be right now.

While still keeping his movements slow and deliberate, not wanting to accidentally startle Techno into attacking, Sapnap kneels in front of the seller, placing a firm hand on the man’s shoulder as he commands, “Take a deep breath. As long as you cooperate, my friend here won’t kill you.”

With a choked, fearful sob, the seller looks up at Sapnap, his eyes filling with the slightest bit of relief at the sight of this new hybrid, one that seems much less feral than that psychopathic bunny.

Even though Sapnap hates it, he waits for the seller to calm down and stop crying, knowing that they won’t be able to get any information out of him if he’s too terrified to talk.

Finally, while keeping his tone firm without being harsh enough to make the seller panic again, Sapnap asks, “Who bought the Elytrian?”

“It was some commoner,” the seller spits the word in a mocking tone, acting as if the buyer is beneath him despite the fact that he’s currently tied up and kneeling on the fucking floor. “He looked so plain, but he gave me twenty netherite ingots to buy it.”

“What did he look like?” Sapnap continues his line of questioning, his hand on the seller’s shoulder tightening as he resists the urge to smack the man for his high-and-mighty tone.

“He had… blonde hair, I think,” the seller mutters uncertainly, having been much more focused on not dropping the precious netherite to pay attention to what the buyer looked like. “I do remember that he wore all black, even those atrocious gloves.”

At the mention of black gloves, Sapnap’s eyes widen, his heart beating faster in his chest as one thought seems to echo in his mind without relent: Did Dream really find Phil?

Sure enough, just moments later, the seller remembers something new, an ugly, smug smile on his face as he shares, “He told me his name’s Clay. What a perfect name for a commoner, so ordinar-”

The seller doesn’t get to finish his sentence, not as an axe sweeps through the air, slicing his head clean off in a spurt of blood and gore before it tumbles to the stone floor below with a sickening thud filled with finality, that smug smile permanently frozen on the face of that bastard.

Slowly, Sapnap’s gaze flitters up toward Techno, watching with bated breath as the bunny hybrid grips his now-bloody axe with shaking fingers, Techno's chest heaving as he stares down at the body of the man he just murdered, feeling nothing but twisted satisfaction at being able to slaughter the person who hurt Phil like the absolute pig he is. 

After hesitantly clearing his throat, Sapnap draws the bunny hybrid’s attention toward him, unable to hide his flinch as the axe creeps a little closer to him, knowing how easily Techno could end his life right now, especially since he’s still just kneeling in shock beside the seller’s body.

Through the haze of screaming voices that demand more blood and violence, Techno sees the way Sapnap flinches, sees the way his friend’s eyes fill with fear for the briefest of moments, that emotion directed at him and him alone.

So, despite the considerable effort it takes to tune out the voices, to crawl out of the killer mindset he adopted during every fight in the pit in order to survive, Techno slowly wipes the blood off of his axe before putting it back in his inventory.

With a relieved smile now that Techno’s no longer holding the deadly weapon, Sapnap gently questions, “You okay, Tech?”

Techno opens his mouth to answer, to insist that he’s perfectly fine, but he suddenly finds himself weightless, his trembling knees buckling beneath him and sending him tumbling to the ground below.

But, like usual, Sapnap is there to catch him when he falls, warm arms circling around him and pulling him against a strong chest, the soothing, familiar touch causing some of the tension and weariness to drain from Techno’s shoulders. 

With a relieved sigh, Techno sinks into Sapnap’s embrace, uncaring of the way blood slowly begins to pool around his legs from the corpse lying next to them, unable to pay that any mind, not when it feels like the weight of the world is finally being lifted from him.

As if reading his mind, Sapnap holds him a little tighter and whispers, “He’s alive, Tech. Dream found him.”

A mix between a laugh and sob bursts free from Techno’s chest against his will, simultaneously overcome with momentous relief and grief. 

He’s so, so glad that Phil’s alive, that he’s finally safe and out of the hell that this place must’ve been for him.

But at the same time, grief and guilt swirl in his chest. 

Because, while Phil might be safe now, the crumpled feather still held tightly in his hand proves that his best friend, the person he loves most, has surely suffered. 

Part of him wishes that he had dragged out the seller’s death, that he had torn him limb from limb, much like the wicked man must’ve ripped countless delicate feathers from Phil’s wings.

But the second he got his answer, the second they knew where Phil was and didn’t need the seller anymore, Techno wanted him gone, never to hurt his best friend ever again.

After a while of simply sitting together, Sapnap holding his friend close as he cries, the blaze hybrid slowly pulls back slightly, gently brushing away the tears from Techno’s blood-splattered cheeks as he softly questions, “You ready to go home and see Phil again?”

With a watery, disbelieving chuckle, Techno eagerly nods his head, hardly able to believe that, after a few hours of traveling on horseback, he’ll actually get to see Phil again.

He’ll get to hold his best friend in his arms, get to feel the wonderfully soothing warmth of laying in bed beside him, fluffy and soft wings cocooning them both as they sleep safe and sound.

“Let’s go home,” Techno chokes out against the tightness in his throat, managing a shaky smile when Sapnap absolutely beams at him.

Together, they begin leaving the dreaded selling grounds once and for all, Techno sharing several stories about Phil along the way that Sapnap and the guards flanking them occasionally laugh at, finding it a thousand times easier to talk about his friend now that he knows that Phil’s still alive, that he’ll actually be seeing his best friend again soon.

As they begin riding back to the Palace on their respective horses, Techno can’t help but smile widely.

Because, for the very first time, returning to the Palace actually feels like coming home.

He’s coming home, and it’s a truly wonderful feeling, especially since he knows that his family will all be there to welcome him.

Chapter Text

After a seemingly endless 8-hour journey on horseback, Techno swiftly dismounts his horse, wordlessly thrusting the reins at the first stableboy he sees, unable to find it in himself to apologize when the teenager visibly startles at the sight of the disgruntled horse and rider.

With quick strides, nearly to the point of running, Techno rushes toward Dream’s room in the Palace, one thought replaying in his mind over and over again: please be here please be here please be here please please plea-

When he finally reaches Dream’s bedroom, his stomach begins to churn uncomfortably at the sight of the slightly ajar door that showcases nothing but darkness inside the empty room. 

He’s not there.

Phil isn’t here.

“Okay, okay, don’t panic,” Techno mutters under his breath as he rakes a trembling hand through his tangled pink strands of hair, uncaring of the way his braid is getting messed up, not when his breath is steadily becoming faster and faster as panic threatens to take hold. “If I was Dream, where would I go?”

It takes much longer than it should but, finally, the panic clears enough for him to think logically, the answer becoming painfully obvious now that he’s thought of it.

Wilbur’s room.

The guy practically lives in Wil’s room, and, if Dream figured out that Phil’s related to them all, he’d definitely let Wilbur know that he found their dad.

Yet again, Techno quickly makes his way through the hallway, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest when he comes across the closed door to Wilbur’s bedroom.

Hesitantly, Techno lifts one of his shaking hands to softly knock on the door, waiting with bated breath to see if Phil will be the one to answer, to see if he’ll finally be able to give his best friend back his necklace and hold him in his arms again.

“Come in,” Dream softly calls out, keeping his voice quiet so he doesn't wake up any of the sleeping hybrids around him, a small smile on his lips as he pictures how happy Techno will be once he walks in the room.

Without needing to be told twice, Techno quickly but soundlessly opens the door, his eyes taking a few moments to adjust from the bright torchlight of the hallways to the soft glow of the pale moon seeping through the partially open curtains.

Once his eyes become accustomed to the dimmer lighting, the first thing he sees is Dream sitting at the foot of the bed, his back leaning against the wall and a sleeping Wilbur snuggled against the man’s chest, the sight causing Techno to smile fondly, glad that Wil has someone that’s been able to take care of him while Phil was missing.

And speaking of Phil, there he is, his familiar blonde hair fanning the sides of his face as he rests peacefully, his wings splayed out around him, one just barely touching the foot of the bed where Dream and Wilbur are, the other carefully draped on top of Tommy, shielding the sleeping avian from the outside world. 

“Phil,” Techno reverently whispers as he steps toward the bed, tears freely cascading down his cheeks at the sight of his best friend, his entire world, being here right in front of him. 

“We found him,” Dream happily says as he grins at Techno, his heart absolutely soaring at the unadulterated joy on the bunny hybrid’s face. “He’s safe now.”

Upon hearing those words, that beautiful confirmation that Phil is finally safe and free, a small, choked sob escapes Techno, the bunny hybrid quickly holding a hand to his mouth to stifle the noise, not wanting to wake anyone up.

“Oh, Tech,” Dream softly says as he carefully moves Wilbur off his lap, gently laying the sleeping man down next to his dad before approaching Techno.

“Come here,” Dream continues in that same soft tone as he stops in front of the bunny hybrid, holding his arms out in invitation as his own tears begin to sting the corners of his emerald-green eyes. 

Instantly, Techno throws himself at Dream, sobs spilling freely from his chest as he tightly clutches to the man that gave him everything.

Without Dream, he’d probably be dead, yet another nameless fighter lost to the cruelty of the fighting ring. 

Without Dream, Wilbur and Tommy would have been captured that dreaded day Wil got his burn scars, would have experienced the same awful fate that Techno and Phil endured for months. 

And if Dream hadn’t located the hybrid selling grounds where he found Phil, his best friend in the whole world would have continued suffering, his best friend in the whole world would’ve never come back to him.

Techno tries to thank Dream, tries to make the man understand just how much Techno appreciates him, but the bunny hybrid can’t seem to force any words out through his violent sobs, through the tears slipping down his cheeks as he buries his face in the front of Dream’s signature lime-green hoodie.

While still holding Techno close, Dream gently guides them both to sit on the floor, worried that the bunny hybrid’s trembling legs would collapse underneath him at any moment. 

As he rests his chin on top of Techno’s head, the man’s bunny ears tickling his nose as they twitch and swivel around, Dream kindly says, “I’ve got you, Tech. Just let it out.”

In reply, Techno just clings to Dream even tighter, sobbing uncontrollably in the arms of the person who just gives and gives with no end, the person who has never been anything but kind and thoughtful to him.

After a particularly loud sob tears through Techno’s chest, he bites down hard on his bottom lip, not wanting to wake up anyone in the room.

But it seems like that was a futile hope, the sound of a confused chirp ringing out clearly in between his heaving gasps for air and violent sobs.

When he hears another questioning chirp come from Phil, Techno sniffles loudly in an attempt to calm down, then releases a soft hum in reply to Phil’s call.

For a few seconds, Phil freezes, his body locked in place at that familiar sound, one that he hasn’t heard in so long.

Then, like a switch being flicked, Phil scrambles off the bed, barely coherent enough to not trample his sons in haste to get toward that sound.

The second his feet hit solid ground, Phil rushes toward the two figures sitting on the plush carpet, sinking to his knees beside them as frantic chirps and warbles escape him unbidden.

While smiling widely at the two long-lost friends, Dream releases his hold on the bunny hybrid, gently pushing him toward Phil when Techno hesitates.

With that smile still in place, Dream stands up and retreats back to the bed, gathering Wilbur in his arms as he lays beside his sleeping friend.

“H-Hey, old m-man,” Techno chokes out against his tears as he slowly turns watery eyes toward the Elytrian, his heart flip-flopping at the sight of his best friend being right here.

With a soft coo, Phil closes the distance between them, pressing his forehead tenderly against Techno’s own.

“Phil,” Techno whispers as he gently brushes his hand against Phil’s cheek, the touch absolutely electrifying after so long of being apart, like the spark that allows fire to grow so it can finally drive away the chill in their bones and fill them with feelings of warmth and safety. 

Phil simply releases another content coo in reply as he continues drinking in the wonderful touch of his best friend, continues drinking in the soothing press of their foreheads together that cause his instincts to sing a symphony of flock family safe flock here flock safe safe safe safe.

Eventually, Techno pulls back from their embrace, wiping away his tears before smiling shakily at Phil and sincerely saying, “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

When Phil only releases a loud, happy chirp, Techno rolls his eyes fondly and opens his arms in invitation for a hug as he lightly teases, “Come on, bird brain, get over here.”

Instantly, Phil collapses into Techno’s waiting arms, a jumbled mess of chirps and coos leaving him as he presses his face into the crook of Techno’s neck.

While still releasing those happy sounds, Phil tightly clutches the front of Techno’s shirt, the grounding touch satisfying the instincts that scream at him to never, ever let go of the bunny hybrid. 

“Welcome home, Phil,” Techno whispers as he holds Phil a little tighter, his eyes filling with tears yet again when wonderfully warm feathers wrap around him in the way he’s dreamed of getting to feel again for months.

Phil doesn’t reply, all his little noises coming to an end as he drifts off to sleep, feeling entirely safe and at ease in the arms of his best friend. 

After a while of simply holding the sleeping Elytrian close, trying to commit each and every part of the man to memory after their time apart, Techno softly questions, “Dream? You still awake?”

Sleepily, Dream releases a low hum of acknowledgment, lifting his head slightly from where it rests against Wilbur’s chest so he can see the bunny hybrid.

“Thank you,” Techno says with all the sincerity he can muster, hoping that Dream understands that this means the absolute world to him, no words able to properly express how relieved and happy and amazing he feels now that the man he loves more than anyone else is held safely and snugly in his arms again. 

With a tired smile, Dream murmurs as his eyes slip shut of their own accord, “‘S my pleas’re.” 

When he hears a soft snore escape Dream just moments later, Techno can’t help but chuckle, rolling his eyes fondly at the now-sleeping man.

While still carefully cradling the Elytrian in his arms, Techno rises to his feet and approaches the bed, thankful that the Palace has unnecessarily large beds, ones that can accommodate five people sleeping on it, maybe even more.

With a tender smile, Techno gently lays Phil down on the bed, brushing away a stray lock of hair that fell into his face as he whispers, “I’m so glad you’re safe. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost ya.”

After releasing a shaky exhale, Techno slides into bed in front of Phil, wrapping his arms around the man's lower back to pull him flush against his chest, a wide smile gracing his lips as the sleeping Elytrian instinctively drapes his wing on top of them.

For the first time in a long, long time, Techno falls asleep easily, no worries flooding his mind or fear gripping his heart, only happiness, contentedness, and his family surrounding him on all sides there to keep him company as he drifts off into a peaceful slumber.

Chapter Text

A few hours later, Phil begins to slowly wake up, a sleepy smile gracing his lips as he snuggles into the warmth encompassing him on all sides, the pleasant heat making him feel safe and cared for.

When he tiredly cracks open his eyes, he’s met with a familiar face peering down at him in the soft glow of the moonlight seeping through the curtains, the sight causing him to grin widely.

“Hi, Mate,” Phil softly says as he slowly detangles one of his arms from around Techno’s back, instead gently cupping the bunny hybrid’s jaw and tenderly brushing his thumb against his cheek. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“Yeah, it really is,” Techno quietly agrees as he leans into Phil’s hand on his face, smiling widely at the feeling of just being able to touch Phil and hold him close again. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Mhmm,” Phil happily hums in agreement as he snuggles closer to Techno’s chest, feeling like he could still sleep for days, but he doesn’t mind being awake all that much, not when Techno’s right here after so long of being apart. “How about you?”

“Better than I have in a long time,” Techno admits after a few moments of hesitation, not wanting to worry the Elytrian, especially since he’s still healing, but he can’t bring himself to lie to Phil. 

With his forehead creased in concern, Phil pulls back from Techno slightly, looking into his friend's ruby-red gaze as he worriedly questions, “You haven’t been sleeping well?”

“How am I supposed to sleep when you’re gone?” Techno asks with a wry smile, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he remembers all the nights he woke up screaming from nightmares of his time in the fighting ring, reaching out desperately for his best friend only to find that no one’s there, nothing but the cold bedsheets there to comfort him. 

“Oh, Tech,” Phil murmurs in a low, absolutely heartbroken tone, pulling Techno firmly against his chest and wrapping his wings around the man as he assures him, “I’m back now. I’m here, Tech. You don’t have to worry about that ever again.”

“But-” Techno weakly starts to protest, knowing that there’s no guarantee that Phil really is safe now, that no one will try to take his best friend away from him again, but he doesn’t get the chance to even properly start before he’s interrupted.

“Hey, no buts. I’m not going anywhere, Tech, I promise,” Phil gently interrupts, nothing but conviction and adoration in his tone, truly believing that he is safe here in the Palace, safe here under the watchful eyes of Dream and the rest of his beloved family.

“I just can’t lose you again,” Techno brokenly admits as he tries his hardest to choke back sobs, tears rapidly slipping down his cheeks as he buries his face more firmly against Phil’s chest. “I can’t take it.”

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” Phil gently shushes Techno as the bunny hybrid begins sobbing against his chest, rubbing soothing circles against his friend’s back as he continues, “I’m right here, Tech. Just let it out, it’ll all be okay.”

For a while, Techno simply cries in Phil’s arms, finally releasing all the hurt and loneliness and grief he’s felt ever since they were captured, ever since he was forced to fight in the ring, ever since he discovered that his best friend was still in pain once he was finally free.

Finally, Techno’s tears come to an end, his cheeks red and blotchy from all his crying, the sight causing Phil to smile sadly as he wipes away the last remains of his friend’s sadness.

“Better?” Phil gently questions in a judgment-free tone, his sad little smile turning into a real one when Techno nods his head.

While tenderly beginning to card a hand through Techno’s long, pink locks, he sincerely says, “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Mate.”

Techno doesn’t say anything in response, just smiles weakly against his best friend’s chest as his breathing slowly starts to even out, his adrenaline beginning to fade away the longer Phil continues holding him without anyone coming to snatch him away again.

Sometime later, Techno awkwardly clears his throat before hesitantly saying, “I, uh, have something of yours that I want to give back to you.”

When Phil hums in question, Techno slowly pulls back from the man’s embrace, using trembling fingers to unclasp one of the heart-shaped necklaces that rest against his chest.

Carefully, Techno puts the necklace on Phil, smiling as he repeats the words that the Elytrian said on the day he gave Techno his own matching necklace: “With this necklace, I promise that I’ll always love you.”

With wide eyes, Phil clutches the necklace with one hand, his other hand finding Techno’s twin necklace as the bunny hybrid continues speaking, “Every time you wear it, I'm close to your heart. Every time we’re apart, I’ll still be by your side.”

Then, as Techno leans forward to press their foreheads together, the man finishes with a soft, tender smile, “And every time we’re together, you’ll see the necklace I wear and know how much I love you.”

“Techno,” Phil whispers in an absolutely wrecked voice, shocked that Techno has both their necklaces and that the man still remembers each and every word Phil said when he first got those necklaces so long ago.

“I love you,” Techno sincerely says as he keeps his forehead pressed against Phil’s, one of his hands coming to circle around the back of the Elytrian’s neck, cradling his head close.

“Love you too. So fucking much,” Phil replies with a watery chuckle, not even trying to wipe away the tears sliding down his cheeks, too busy holding tightly to both their necklaces.

So many times when he was trapped in his cell, Phil wished that he had his necklace, that he had at least one thing that could help him feel closer to his family while he was stuck in that hell. 

But despite that feeble hope, he never thought he’d actually get his necklace back. 

He thought that both his and Techno’s necklaces, the symbol of their love and friendship and so much more, were gone forever.

Yet here they are, wrapped up in each other's arms, those heart-shaped necklaces finally resting against each of their hearts where they belong.

Slowly, Phil releases both their necklaces, instead wrapping his hands around Techno’s back in a loose hug, just breathing in the soothing touch of his friend as their foreheads remain stubbornly pressed against each other.

Eventually, Phil pulls away from Techno’s embrace, wiping away his tears as he shyly requests, “Can we go lay in my nest?”

Without hesitation, Techno nods his head, smiling widely as he asks, “You already have a nest here?”

With his shy little smile still in place, Phil sits up on the bed and softly says, “Yeah, Dream helped me build it… yesterday? Earlier today? Something like that, time’s kinda fucked right now.”

“I’m glad you’ve got a nest now,” Techno replies with a chuckle as he sits up too, getting to his feet and reaching out a hand to help Phil up as he says while smirking, “And what time you did it doesn’t really matter, not when we have all the time in the world together.”

“When did you get so sappy?” Phil asks with a snort as he grabs Techno’s hand, thankful for the support as he unsteadily rises to his feet.

“I think you’re rubbin’ off on me, old man,” Techno teases as he lightly elbows Phil’s side, giggling when Phil squawks indignantly. 

As Phil grumbles about not being old, the two of them walk hand-in-hand through the hallway, the Elytrian smiling widely when he glances back at his boys sleeping on the bed, his heart swelling with fondness at the sight of Wilbur being sound asleep with both Dream and Tommy using the phantom hybrid as a pillow.

When they reach Dream’s room, Phil proudly leads Techno over to the corner that has his nest, practically dragging the bunny hybrid in his haste to lay down in his cozy nest. 

“Looks real nice,” Techno honestly says as his eyes glance over the mountain of blankets shaped into Phil’s nest, a genuine smile on his face at the sight of it, especially since so many of Phil’s nests before this have just been one or two sad little scraps of fabric that they managed to scrounge together.

Phil releases a loud, happy chirp at that, his chest puffing up with pride after hearing that flock likes the nest he built.

“Alright, bird brain, don’t let that go to your head,” Techno lightly teases once he sees how much that compliment affected the Elytrian, a smirk gracing his lips when Phil squawks irritatedly as he releases Techno’s hand in order to flop down into his nest.

The second the Elytrian is inside his nest, warm blankets enveloping him on all sides, his annoyed expression instantly disappears, instead being replaced by one of pure bliss as he releases a soft coo.

For a few moments, Techno just watches as Phil burrows further into the blankets, a wide smile on his face as he basks in the sound of the Elytrian’s content coos and excited trills, tears threatening to fall at the sight of his best friend in the whole world looking so at peace and carefree, especially since he wasn’t sure if he would ever see the man again.

When Phil reaches out toward the blankets and releases a distressed warble because no one is laying beside him, Techno quickly climbs into the nest and soothingly says, “I’ve got ya. Jus’ relax now.”

In reply, Phil simply releases a happy chirp, reaching out toward flock and wrapping his arms around whatever’s closest to him, which happens to one of the bunny hybrid’s legs since he hasn’t laid down yet.

For a few seconds, Techno simply worries his bottom lip between his teeth as he stares at Phil’s wings, some of the feathers horribly misaligned, other sections missing clumps of feathers altogether, the sight filling him with immense sadness.

While Techno can’t do anything about the feathers that have been torn out, he can at least fix the others that are out of place, causing him to hesitantly question, “Hey, Phil? Want me to preen your wings?”

When Phil eagerly chirps in reply, Techno chuckles fondly, gently running a hand through Phil’s feathers as he softly says, “Alright, I’ll take good care of ya.”

Phil just chirps repeatedly, knowing that flock will definitely take care of him, flock always takes care of him, always takes such good care of his wings, he loves loves loves when those calloused hands comb through his feathers, each movement incredibly skilled after years spent preening Phil's wings. 

Slowly, Techno begins carefully realigning the feathers on Phil’s left wing, smiling even wider as the Elytrian shudders in the nest beside him, absolutely falling apart as he happily chirps nonstop.

While Phil enjoyed when Dream cleaned his wings in the bath, that was absolutely nothing compared to this, compared to the way Techno so carefully moves each feather back where it belongs, gently brushing his fingers over each completed section as he murmurs how beautiful Phil’s wings are and how lucky he is to have the Elytrian in his life.

It’s everything Phil’s ever wanted, his flock whispering kind words while taking care of his wings after so long of being neglected, his warm nest protecting him on all sides as gentle hands comb through his feathers, his arms wrapped around flock as they protect him from the outside world, allowing him to just completely lose himself in his instincts, lose himself in the feeling of being loved so deeply and know that everything will be okay.

“Good night, Phil,” Techno softly whispers when the Elytrian drifts off to sleep with a wide, happy smile, his face pressed against the side of Techno’s thigh as he continues cuddling with his leg, the man’s clinginess causing Techno to roll his eyes fondly. 

Slowly, Techno detangles himself from Phil. Once his leg is free from the sleeping Elytrian’s hold, he carefully lays down beside Phil, wrapping his arms around the man as he pulls him close to his chest.

After pressing a kiss to the sleeping man’s forehead, Techno’s eyes begin to slip shut, all of the stress he’s been under lately seeming to hit him all at once now that Phil’s finally safe in his arms, making him want to just sleep for days and pretend like nothing matters except for him and Phil.

Despite his exhaustion, Techno tries to stay awake, tries to stay vigilant in case anything attempts to take Phil away from him again, absolutely refusing to let his friend suffer anymore.

But once a warm, fuzzy, and newly-preened wing drapes on top of him, Techno loses his battle against staying awake, falling asleep within moments now that Phil’s wing is encasing them both, keeping them safe and isolated from the outside world. 

Chapter Text

With a low, tired groan, Dream slowly blinks open bleary eyes, wanting nothing more than to just stay snuggled against Wilbur’s side and pretend like the outside world doesn’t exist.

But that doesn’t happen, can’t happen once he remembers what day today is.

After everything that’s happened with Phil lately, Dream completely forgot that today’s the 20th, completely forgot that they’ll be leaving at midday to go to Manburg for awful negotiations. 

Part of Kinoko Kingdom’s treaty with Manburg is that, every five months, they need to meet in order to negotiate their trade routes, make sure the other isn’t preparing to declare war, those types of things.

It’s always the worst week ever.

And it's starting literally today.

Fuck, he has to go train, has to make sure he’s ready for anything in case that bastard Schlatt tries to hurt George or any of the king's men.

With a heavy sigh, Dream reluctantly detangles himself from Wilbur, smiling softly at the sight of Tommy curled around his older brother, wanting to forever hold onto the sight of them sleeping so peacefully now that their family is finally back together. 

Silently, Dream makes his way through the hallway, heading to the Palace Training Grounds so he can run through familiar drills, something that he should be doing daily, but he hasn’t practiced for even a single minute since Phil arrived.

Once he reaches his destination, Dream stops in front of one of the training dummies crafted from a mix of wood and hay, the materials resilient enough that it won't break after one swing, but not so tough that it'll cause pain when someone hits it.

After doing some stretches, Dream pulls out his beloved netherite axe, the powerful weapon glinting and shimmering beautifully in the early morning glow of the slowly rising sun.

For a while, Dream simply breathes deeply as he centers himself, the axe seeming to become a part of him the longer he holds it, simply an extension of himself rather than a weapon to be wielded.

Then he imagines that the training dummy is Emperor Schlatt, a twisted snarl gracing Dream’s features and his green eyes blazing as he slashes at the wood and hay, wishing that the giant dent in it would instead be a wound on Schlatt’s chest, steadily oozing blood until the man’s cold, merciless heart stops beating. 

By the time Dream stops hacking away at the dummy, sweat is steadily dripping down his face, his arms trembling slightly from so long spent swinging at full force, a constant low growl escaping him as he imagines tearing the dummy’s--and Schlatt’s--head off.

Before he can give in to the bloodlust and rage he feels and absolutely tear the training dummy to shreds, Dream’s suddenly overcome with a horrifying, sickening thought.

Wait, today’s the 20th…

So that means…

Fuck, it’s only six days away.

Just six days until her birthday.

In six days, she’ll be 17.

Last time Dream saw his little sister, she was only 12.

It’s been five fucking years since he last saw her, since he last held her in his arms or heard that wonderful wheezing laugh of hers. 

And instead of spending her birthday at the Palace, his friends there to hold him as he cries after blowing out the candles on her birthday cake, he’ll be in Manburg, the place that took everything from him.

It isn’t fair…

It isn’t fair!

“It isn’t fucking fair!” Dream screams at the top of his lungs as he slams his axe against the dummy, the force of it causing the axe to get lodged so deep in the wood that he can’t pull it back out, not with how badly his arms are shaking from fatigue, rage, and grief. 

Without his axe in hand to help redirect his raging emotions, Dream sinks to his knees, not even noticing the way little pebbles dig into his skin, far too busy hugging himself tightly as the first sob tears through him.

And once that first loud, shuddering sob escapes him, Dream can’t seem to keep them at bay, the sound of his cries echoing throughout the desolate training grounds despite the way he holds a hand over his mouth to try to stifle the sounds, not wanting to wake anyone up. 

Eventually, Dream’s sobs come to an end, his eyes stinging and throat aching from his time spent crying, leaving him simply kneeling on the ground, staring blankly ahead as he remembers the day everything went to shit.

Sometime later, when the sun is much higher in the sky, Dream faintly hears the sound of approaching footsteps, but he can’t bring himself to care enough to pull himself together, can’t bring himself to care about much of anything right now. 

Without saying anything, the person sits down on Dream’s left side, not quite touching him, but close enough that their baby blue cloak brushes against his arm. 

“It isn’t fitting for a king to sit on the ground,” Dream croaks out without looking at George, wincing at how absolutely wrecked his voice sounds.

With the beginnings of a smirk, George leans in close to Dream and whispers teasingly, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Then, as his smirk turns into a more genuine and concerned smile, George slowly unclasps his cloak and lays one end over Dream’s shoulders, hoping that the comforting warmth of the cloak will help lessen his friend’s shaking. 

It takes a few moments but, slowly, Dream shifts positions, leaning against George and burying his face in the man’s side, a shaky sigh escaping him when the king wraps an arm around him, tenderly holding him close.

For a long, long time, the two of them simply sit in silence, George being perfectly fine with just sitting here and waiting until his friend is ready to tell him what’s wrong.

“We’ll be in Manburg on the 26th,” Dream finally says in a dull, lifeless tone, his words somewhat muffled due to his face still being pressed against the king’s side, but George understands his meaning loud and clear.

“I’m sorry, Dream,” George sincerely says in a low, sorrowful tone, wishing more than anything that he could just call off the negotiations, knowing how much it’ll hurt his friend to be in Manburg on his sister’s birthday. “Once I realized we’d be there that day, I tried to push it back, but Schlatt wouldn't agree. He made it very clear that these negotiations are the only thing keeping us from going to war.”

With a heavy sigh, George softly continues, “I know we’d win against Manburg, but it’d put a lot of people at risk. I don’t want us to have to fight unless it’s absolutely necessary, especially since you know what he’d do to all the hybrids we’ve protected here.”

“I hate him,” Dream growls as some of his fire returns, his hands clenching into fists as he continues through gritted teeth, “I wanna fucking murder him.”

“I know you do,” George placatingly says in an understanding tone, wishing that he could just arrange for some terrible accident to befall Emperor Schlatt, but he knows that would cause an uproar with all the nearby nations, something that he can’t afford if he wants to keep everyone in Kinoko safe. “I want him gone too, but we both know we can’t do anything without a good reason.”

After a few moments of hesitation, George gently reminds Dream, “You know you don’t have to come to these negotiations, right? I promise I won’t be mad if you’d rather stay here this time.”

“And leave you alone with Schlatt?” Dream vehemently demands without hesitation, rapidly shaking his head as he firmly says, “Fuck that, absolutely not. If you’re going, I am too.”

“As long as you’re sure…” George mutters with a heavy sigh, wishing that he could convince Dream to stay back just this once, but he knows when to pull out of a battle that he will surely lose.

So, instead of trying to dissuade Dream, George earnestly questions, “Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

For a little while, Dream sits in silent contemplation, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he thinks about George’s question.

Finally, with a defeated sigh, Dream admits in a heartbroken tone, “I just want to find her. I just wanna give her another hug.”

In response, George just holds Dream a little closer to his chest, wishing that he could give his friend this more than anything else.

Even with all the time and resources he’s put into it, even with the years they’ve spent looking for her, George still hasn’t been able to help reunite his best friend with his little sister.

They’ve helped hundreds of families be brought back together again, and yet this one always seems to be just out of reach.

“It fucking sucks sometimes,” Dream mutters with a bitter laugh, his next words leaving a sick feeling in his stomach, but he says them nonetheless, knowing that his confession will be safe in George’s hands: “There’s times when I look at other people’s families and I just feel so upset. I know I should be happy for them all, but why can’t I have that too?”

“Oh, Dream, I’m so sorry,” George sadly whispers as he wraps his cloak more firmly around Dream’s shoulders, tears slowly beginning to collect on the insides of his goggles the longer he sits here and holds Dream as his best friend breaks.

“Did I do something wrong?” Dream whispers with a sniffle, angrily brushing away his tears as he continues, “I know I’ve done some bad stuff, but do I really deserve this? Why does everyone else get to have their family and I can’t?”

“I wish I knew, Dream, I wish I knew,” George murmurs as he gently begins carding a hand through Dream’s hair, hoping that the soothing touch will help his friend at least the slightest bit.

Then, in a much stronger tone, George promises, “We’ll keep looking though. We won’t ever stop till we find her. I’ll try to get all the hybrids out of Manburg again during this negotiation. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll search every block in that place, alright?”

Slowly, Dream nods his head, then he shifts slightly in George’s embrace to hug the king while sincerely whispering, “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Normally George would have some kind of sarcastic response ready to go, but that just doesn’t seem right, not when he feels a steadily-growing wet spot from where Dream’s face is pressed against his side. 

Instead, George simply keeps holding Dream close, one hand continuing to gently card through his friend’s hair, the other rubbing soothing circles against his back.

Soon they’ll have to go back to their rooms and get ready to leave for Manburg.

But right now George is more than content to blow off his kingly duties for a little while to sit here with his best friend.

Chapter Text

After a while of just continuing to sit beside George, the king’s arms firmly wrapped around him in a comforting embrace, Dream releases a sigh and reluctantly mutters, “We should probably start getting ready to leave now.”

Despite the fact that the sun has been rising higher and higher in the sky while they’ve sat here, George doesn’t pull away from Dream yet, instead asking in a concerned tone, “Will you be okay?”

For a few moments, Dream is silent, genuinely considering George’s question.

Even though his heart still aches painfully at the thought of being in Manburg on Drista’s birthday, he understands that it’s something that can’t be helped, not unless he wants to abandon George to stay at the Palace.

So, with a somewhat shaky smile, Dream pulls back from George’s soothing hold and wryly states, “Yeah, I’ll get through it, just like all the other shit.”

Even though Dream’s response isn’t all that reassuring, George nods his head in acceptance, gracefully rising to his feet and offering Dream a hand to help his friend stand up.

After a final, fleeting hug, George sets off toward his chambers, needing to make sure one last time that everything is prepared for when they’ll leave in a few hours.

With a small, fond smile, Dream watches George leave, his heart feeling a little less heavy now that he was able to spend some time with one of his oldest friends.

While still smiling, Dream pulls his axe out of the center of the wooden training dummy, storing the deadly weapon in his inventory as he begins walking in the direction of his room, creating a mental checklist of all the things he’ll have to do in the few short hours before their departure.

As he makes his way through the many halls at a brisk pace, Dream is suddenly pulled from his thoughts by the distant sounds of someone crying, those soft sobs echoing off the walls causing Dream’s heart to beat wildly in his chest, his instincts screaming at him to protect and comfort whoever’s crying.

Quickly, Dream rushes toward the sound, on the brink of running as he fears for whoever may be in pain and what could have caused it, too worried about this person to realize that he’s still going in the direction of his own room.

After what feels like a lifetime, Dream turns another corner, putting him in the hallway where his room lies and bringing him face to face with the person who’s crying.

In the corner of the hallway that’s farthest from his bedroom door, Dream sees a familiar figure hunched over on himself, his whole body trembling violently from the force of his sobs, his wings wrapped all around him like he’s trying to mimic the feeling of a hug.

Slowly, not wanting to startle the crying Elytrian, Dream begins approaching that corner of the hallway, his gloved palms raised level to his chest to make it clear that he means no harm in case Phil doesn’t recognize him right away.

Once Dream is a few blocks away, he’s met with a pair of teary, red-rimmed blue eyes that look at him with a terrible mixture of terror and pain, the sight causing him to softly say, “Hey, Phil. Can I sit with you?”

Without hesitation, Phil rapidly nods his head, a combination of a needy chirp and strangled sob escaping against his will. 

With a sad smile, Dream sits on the ground a couple of blocks away from Phil, opening his arms in invitation for a hug as he reassuringly says, “I’m right here if you need me. I’m not going anywhere.”

A small voice in the back of Dream’s mind reminds him that he needs to get ready to leave soon, but it’s easy to ignore that annoying little voice when Phil suddenly flings himself against Dream’s chest, clutching to his lime-green hoodie for dear life as frantic chirps and peeps spill from his lips.

“That’s it, Phil, I’ve got you,” Dream murmurs encouragingly as he wraps his arms around the Elytrian in return, one hand cradling the sobbing man’s head to his chest, the other rubbing soothing circles against Phil’s back in the space between his wings. “Just let it out, you’re safe with me.”

While holding onto Dream even tighter, Phil continues sobbing with desperate chirps intermingled, his shaking slowly starting to lessen now that he’s held safely and snugly in flock’s embrace. 

It takes a while, but Phil’s sobs finally come to an end, the Elytrian sniffling one last time before muttering in a soft, embarrassed tone, “Sorry, Mate. Promise I don’t usually cry this much.”

“Hey, you have no reason to apologize,” Dream firmly says without hesitation, smiling sadly again as he continues, “And you’re definitely entitled to crying sometimes after everything you went through.”

“Thanks,” Phil replies with a watery smile, once again feeling so grateful for Dream’s neverending kindness.

Then, while clutching Dream tighter, Phil weakly begs, “Please, don’t let them take me back. I-I can’t go through that again.”

“Oh, Phil,” Dream murmurs in a heartbroken tone, his voice growing much stronger and more confident as he promises, “You are never going back there. I’d rather die than let you suffer like that anymore.”

“You can’t actually mean that,” Phil mutters dejectedly, certain that, even though Dream is so unbelievably kind, there has to be a limit to how far he’d be willing to go, especially for a stranger like Phil.

“I do,” Dream adamantly replies without hesitation, pulling back from Phil slightly to look at the Elytrian as he swears, “I would be willing to risk everything to protect the people I care about.”

“That doesn’t apply to me though,” Phil firmly says despite the way those words hurt him, especially because he’s already become so attached to Dream. “You don’t care about me. You don’t even know me.” 

“I know enough,” Dream tenderly says as he gently places a gloved hand on the left side of Phil’s face, cupping the man’s jaw and looking him directly in the eyes as he continues, “I haven’t known you long, but I do care about you. I know that you’re worth protecting, and that means I’d do anything to keep you safe, alright?”

“You really mean that?” Phil questions in an awe-filled whisper, searching Dream’s face for any kind of deception but finding only earnestness and love in his emerald-green eyes.

“I promise I’m telling you the truth when I say that I’ll protect you, Phil,” Dream sincerely says as he smiles softly at Phil, his heart soaring with happiness when Phil gives him a wide, genuine smile in return.

“Thank you,” Phil whispers as he closes his eyes tightly against the threat of tears, but these ones are tears of joy rather than the sad, fearful ones he shed when Dream found him. 

In response to Phil’s gratitude, Dream just moves his hand from Phil’s jaw to instead rest on the back of his head, slowly and gently guiding the man’s head to lean against his chest, the Elytrian giving a happy chirp as he snuggles closer. 

After a while spent sitting together in companionable silence, Phil hesitantly begins, “I, uh, had a nightmare. Didn't want my crying to wake anyone up, so that's why I came out here. I think it just made things worse though since my nightmare was about a bunch of Schlatt’s guards storming the Palace.”

Dream just hums sadly when Phil pauses, not wanting to interrupt the man even though part of him aches to reassure Phil that Schlatt’s guards would be dead long before they could even make it to any of the Palace entrances. 

While holding onto Dream’s back tightly, the grounding touch helping him remember that this Dream is nothing like the one in his nightmare, he slowly continues, “They must’ve had explosives because the Palace was falling apart. Some of the roof caved in and my wings were stuck under the rubble.”

With a violent shudder, Phil weakly finishes, “I don’t know where the others were, but you were the only one nearby. You tried getting the rocks off my wings, but they were too heavy. The guards started coming toward us and… you left me. I watched as you walked away and left me to d-die.”

“I would never leave you like that,” Dream growls in a fiercely protective tone as he holds Phil tighter against his chest, continuing with nothing but loyalty and sincerity in his tone, “I promise that I would’ve stayed by your side. I would’ve taken out a weapon and killed every last one of those guards to keep you safe. Either that or I would’ve died trying. But I couldn’t live with myself if I just left anyone like that, especially someone I care about.”

For a long, long time, Phil just thinks over Dream’s words, trying to replace them with the visceral images in his nightmare of Dream leaving him to die.

And even though he still feels some lingering fear from his nightmare, Phil finds himself believing Dream.

Even though it seems insane that someone would care about him that much after such a short time of knowing him, Phil thinks that, if anyone was crazy enough to do that, it’d be Dream, the person who so selflessly gives and gives and gives unlike anyone else he’s met before.

When Phil pulls back from Dream’s embrace, it’s to smile up at the man as he firmly says, “I know that, Mate. At least now I do. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Dream replies with a smile of his own, extremely glad to hear that Phil believes that he’ll keep him safe, especially since Dream can’t even imagine how terrifying that nightmare must’ve been for him.

After a few more moments of just smiling at Dream, Phil slowly rests his head against Dream’s chest again. Instead of clinging to the man for dear life again, Phil simply finds one of Dream’s gloved hands and holds it gently in his own, chirping happily as he wraps his wings around them both. 

When Dream chuckles fondly at the feeling of Phil’s wings wrapping around them, Phil absolutely beams, releasing a stream of content trills and coos as he continues basking in the feeling of flock holding him close, feeling entirely happy and carefree for the first time in a very long time.

Chapter Text

About ten minutes later, as Dream is trying to come up with a good way to explain to Phil that he has to leave to go to Manburg soon, the Elytrian surprises him by suddenly questioning, “Hey, Dream? Can I ask you something?”

After noticing the nervousness in Phil’s tone, Dream decides that getting ready to leave can wait a little longer, causing him to instead say in a reassuring tone, “Of course, you can ask me anything.”

For a few moments, Phil doesn’t reply, simply tracing his thumb over the thick leather of Dream’s gloved hand that’s still gently held within his own, curiosity eating away at him for what feels like the thousandth time in the past couple of days, desperately wanting to know why Dream wears those gloves all the time.

For prime’s sake, he even wore the gloves when he was helping give Phil a bath! 

He’s thought about asking why Dream wears those gloves so many times, but he’s never worked up the courage to do so, worried that he might cause the man to leave if he did so.

But Dream just promised that he’d protect him, that he’d never leave him, so maybe, just maybe, it’ll be fine to ask about the gloves.

Spurred on by the comfort and safety Dream’s promise brings, Phil softly says, “It’s okay if you don’t want to answer, Mate, but I was wondering why you always wear those gloves of yours.” 

Instantly, Dream noticeably stiffens, his breath catching in his throat at the unexpected question. 

Maybe he should have expected it by now, but Dream can’t help but feel utterly at a loss for words in the face of Phil’s question, not wanting to lie to the Elytrian, but, at the same time, he’s fucking terrified of telling the truth.

While biting back a string of curses, Phil hastily backtracks, “I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Mate. We can just pretend like this never happened.”

Dream doesn’t say anything in response to that, causing the tense, heavy silence to stretch on, the tension in the hallway so palpable that Phil thinks he could probably see it surrounding them if his face wasn’t hiding away in Dream’s chest. 

When he can’t take the suffocating silence anymore, Phil lightly squeezes the man’s gloved hand as he worriedly questions, “Dream? Are you okay?”

While forcefully shaking his head to clear away some of the memories that were threatening to drown him, Dream shakily replies, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Doing great. Real great.”

“Uh-huh,” Phil murmurs in a skeptical tone, freaking out on the inside because, holy fucking shit, it looks like he might’ve just broken Dream by asking that. “I’m really sorry for asking that.”

“No, no, it’s okay, you don’t have to apologize,” Dream hastily says, sounding a little more like himself as he continues, “You just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

Then, in a voice so quiet and weak that Phil almost doesn’t hear him, Dream questions, “You’re not gonna hate me if I tell you the truth, right?”

For a few moments, Phil just blinks slowly in shock, Dream sounding so fearful and small screaming of wrong wrong wrong in such a way that Phil doesn’t even know how to respond.

Once he feels Dream begin to tremble, Phil’s immediately pulled from his stupor, his fatherly instincts kicking in as he wraps his arms and wings around Dream and honestly promises, “Of course I won’t hate you, Mate. You literally pulled me out of hell and gave me back my family, Dream. Nothing you could ever do would make me hate you.”

Feeling reassured by Phil’s words, Dream releases a heavy, relieved sigh, a part of him still screaming that this could go terribly wrong, but he really wants for it to go well.

He’s just so tired of carrying the burden of what he is, so tired of the fear he always feels at the thought of being discovered, even by one of his friends.

Wilbur always tells him that people won’t judge him, that they’ll still love him despite his past and what he is.

He just hopes that Wil was right.

Slowly, Dream pulls back from Phil’s arms and wings entirely, unable to bring himself to touch the man at all as he begins reaching a trembling hand toward his left glove.

With rapt attention, Phil watches as the glove comes free from one of Dream’s hands, wincing in sympathy at how terribly pale Dream’s hand is, seeming like it hasn’t been in the sun for years, which very well could be true.

Despite the obvious paleness of Dream’s hand, what jumps out at Phil is the way Dream keeps his hand clenched into a tight fist, making it so Phil can only see the back of the man’s hand. And on the back of his hand, Phil sees an intricate tattoo. Even though it is done entirely in black ink, Phil can imagine that the many little mushrooms on his hand represent a rainbow of colors, much like the hundreds of mushrooms he saw growing in the Palace garden on his first day here. In the center of all the mushrooms are massive goggles and, despite those also being made up of only black ink, Phil knows that they must represent a pair of white goggles, ones that he saw on King George’s face from that painting they came across in the hallway.

“What does the tattoo mean?” Phil softly questions after a few more moments of just appreciating the craftsmanship, certain that it was etched into Dream’s skin by someone very, very skilled.

“It, um, says that I’m protected by King George,” Dream nervously replies as he stares at the quartz flooring beneath them, unable to look Phil in the eyes as he continues, “Most people in the Palace have one of these somewhere. It ensures that, uh, if someone gets captured by hybrid hunters, they’ll know that they’re about to fuck with George, and most people don’t wanna risk that shit.”

“That makes sense,” Phil hums after mulling over Dream’s words, curiously adding on, “Does that mean my family has it too?”

When Dream simply nods his head, Phil hums again and thoughtfully says, “Maybe I’ll get one later on too then.”

Dream doesn’t say anything to that, his mouth suddenly feeling incredibly dry at the thought of taking off his other glove and revealing those letters permanently seared into his skin.

But Dream’s already come this far, and he thinks that backing out now would just make this all a thousand times worse. So, as his hands begin trembling even more violently, Dream puts them both behind his back to take off his other glove, not wanting Phil to see his hands yet unless they’re clenched into a fist, something that hides the part of himself that he hates the most.

When Dream brings both his hands forward again, Phil takes a look at Dream’s right hand that’s also clenched into a fist, a horrified gasp escaping him as he quickly raises a hand over his mouth to try to stifle the sound.

Phil is absolutely appalled, outraged, and a little sick to his stomach because he recognizes the symbols on Dream’s hand. He recognizes the puffy, raised skin, something that never goes away no matter how much time passes. He recognizes the way the skin is discolored, much darker and more wrinkled than the unburned skin around the rest of his hand. And he recognizes the letters that were so brutally singed into his skin, the kind that could only come from a place so cruel, the same place that locked Phil up and treated him like a fucking animal.

“Manburg did that to you?” Phil angrily demands despite already knowing the answer, his heart clenching painfully at Dream’s defeated nod.

For a few moments, Phil continues staring at the first letter on Dream’s hand, then he hesitantly questions, “That T stands for Thief, doesn’t it?”

At first, Dream simply nods, but he doesn’t want Phil to think that he’s some filthy criminal, causing him to hastily say, “I never wanted to steal. I didn’t even do it that often, just when the orphanage was too low on food for us. I just couldn’t let my little sister go hungry. I could take it, but she was so young.”

“I’m so sorry, Dream,” Phil whispers in a heartbroken tone, sadness filling him at the thought of a much younger Dream having to steal in order to keep his little sister fed. “You deserved so much better.”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s already been done,” Dream mutters with a bitter, humorless laugh, the sound feeling like a punch to the gut to Phil, wanting nothing more than to wrap the poor, broken boy in his arms and protect him from anything that tries to harm him ever again.

Even though Dream saved his life, even though he’s the reason why Phil is safe and free, Phil feels the intense desire to protect Dream from any further harm, especially since it sounds like Dream never had anyone to protect him as a kid, never had anyone to make sure he was fed and keep him from getting fucking branded.

And speaking of the brand, Phil can’t help but turn his attention toward the other letter.

It’s… puzzling, to say the least.

Because Phil knows the way the lettering system works in Manburg, knows that H always stands for Hybrid.

So why the hell does Dream have the letter H permanently burned into his skin?

Phil reasons that H could stand for Human, especially since Dream sure as hell looks human, but why would Manburg single someone out for being human? Hybrids are the ones that Manburg stomps on like they’re worth even less than dirt, not humans.

It just doesn’t make any sense…

So, after a few moments of hesitation, Phil gently questions, “Mate? Do you mind telling me what the H stands for?”

For a long, long time, Dream doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, scarcely even breathes after hearing Phil’s question.

But, finally, Dream slowly uncurls his hands from the fists they stubbornly stayed in, not trusting his voice enough to answer verbally.

The sight of his hands fully exposed is more than enough for Phil to understand.

The H stands for Hybrid.

Because Dream is a hybrid.

Dream is a hybrid. 

Holy shit, that’s… wow, he was not expecting that.

Despite knowing without a doubt that Dream is a hybrid now, Phil has absolutely no idea what kind the man is.

In between each of Dream’s fingers is a deep, dark purple webbing with little flecks of black mixed in that are as dark as the Void itself, that webbing spanning from each of his knuckles all the way down to where his fingers merge with the rest of his hands. 

It’s… strangely beautiful, in a way like nothing else he’s ever seen.

He wants to reach out and touch Dream’s hand, to see if the vibrant purple in between each finger is soft and spongy like it looks or if it is tough and resilient like the other muscles in his hands. 

But he doesn’t think that reaching out to touch Dream right now would be a good idea with how violently the man is shaking, so, instead, he eagerly exclaims, “That’s so cool! I’ve never seen anything like that! What kind of hybrid are you?”

It’s only the excitement in Phil’s voice, rather than the outrage or derision that he expected, that causes Dream to finally look up to see Phil’s face. 

And on the Elytrian’s face Dream sees nothing but undisguised wonder and curiosity, the sight of which gives him the strength to answer Phil’s question.

“Ender dragon.”

And just like that, Phil’s face absolutely crumples, his expression morphing into a mixture of absolute disbelief and gut-wrenching heartbreak because no, that can’t be true!

Dream can’t be an ender dragon, because ender dragons have horns and tails and scales and wings, and Dream has none of those.

“I know,” Dream whispers as the first few tears begin to slip down his cheeks, his heart feeling absolutely torn up and shattered to pieces the longer that he stares at Phil’s expression, knowing that Phil understands.

When he told Wilbur, his friend expressed sympathies and apologies, but he didn’t actually get it. Sure, Wil knows what it’s like to be hurt by hunters, to have to cover up his hands because he’s ashamed of what’s underneath, but he will never know the full depth of what Dream lost.

But Phil can fly, and he must’ve spent every day flying before getting captured.

Phil knows what it’s like to soar up in the clouds, the wind whipping against your skin being the only thing that can touch you up there, entirely safe and isolated from the cruel world down below. 

While both of them can’t fly right now, only one of theirs is temporary.

“Where are your wings?” Phil chokes out against the building tightness in his throat, tears falling down his own cheeks at the thought of someone losing something that’s so precious, let alone that person being Dream, who’s so terribly kind. 

“Gone,” Dream murmurs simply, only stating what they both already know.

“You didn’t deserve that, Dream,” Phil adamantly says through gritted teeth as he closes the distance between them and pulls Dream into a bone-crushing hug, unable to just sit there and let him suffer alone. “You didn’t deserve that shit. I’m so fucking sorry, they shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“No one deserves it,” Dream replies in a sad whisper as he presses his face against the crook of Phil’s neck and shoulder, the position a little awkward due to their height difference, but Dream doesn’t mind, simply enjoying the feeling of being held. “That’s why I work so hard to rescue hybrids. I don’t want anyone else to go through the same shit I have.”

“How are you so kind?” Phil blurts out as he tries his best to choke back a sob, not understanding how Dream can give so much when he’s already lost everything.

“That’s the only thing that keeps me going some days,” Dream mutters with a wry smile, his words causing Phil to grimace, feeling terribly concerned for the battered boy held in his arms. “If I didn’t have this role where I help people, I probably wouldn’t be here. Being there for people and the hope that one day I might find my sister again is enough for me to keep going.”

And just when Phil thought it couldn’t get any worse, just when he thought that Dream losing his fucking wings was the peak of this shitty situation, he finds out that Dream’s little sister, the person he stole for so she wouldn’t go hungry and got branded because of it, is missing too.

“How long has she been missing?” Phil hesitantly questions, hoping that, wherever she is, Dream’s sister is still alive and that this poor man hasn’t lost yet another part of himself.

“Five fucking years-s,” Dream angrily replies through gritted teeth, and it’s then that he finally breaks, his voice cracking and morphing into a sob on that last word.

As Dream absolutely shatters before his eyes, Phil tries his best to pick up the pieces, holding Dream tightly and wrapping his wings around the man as he releases low warbles and reassuring coos, hoping that those sounds will comfort Dream more than any empty words and promises ever could, his heart aching with the need to help erase all of Dream’s pain.

Eventually, Dream stops crying, pulling away from Phil just enough to wipe away his tears, grimacing as he bitterly mutters, “Ugh, I’m so sorry for all this. You’ve only been free for a couple of days and I’m over here fucking trauma dumping.”

“Hey, I’m the one who asked about the gloves,” Phil can’t help but cheekily point out, smiling sadly when his words cause Dream to laugh weakly through the lingering tears.

Then, in a much more serious tone, Phil honestly continues, “You’ve helped me so much during the time I’ve been here. I wanna help you too, Mate. I don’t know how many people know this, but you don’t have to get through this alone.”

While leaning forward and gently placing his forehead against Dream’s, Phil softly finishes, “We can help each other now, alright? It doesn’t just have to be you trying to help me recover. I can help you too. I’m sure you can take care of yourself, but it sounds like you’ve been doin’ that your whole life, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dream weakly agrees, hardly able to remember the times when his parents were in his life, especially since he’s been raising Drista all on his own since he was seven.

“I’m not sure what you’ve heard from my boys, but I’m a bit of a dad and a mother hen,” Phil says with a small smirk, that expression turning into a genuine smile when Dream snorts at that. “So, if you ever need some old man advice or if you just want someone to hold you and tell you it’ll be okay, I’m here.”

While pulling back from Dream to look the man in the eyes, Phil gently takes Dream’s hands and holds them in his own while whispering, “Us hybrids gotta stick together, okay?”

After a few moments of hesitation, so unused to being called a hybrid, yet not hating it like he thought he would, Dream softly agrees, “Okay. We’ll stick together.”

“Good,” Phil agrees with a wide, happy smile as he pulls Dream into his arms again.

And much like when the Elytrian held his sons in his arms again for the first time in months, Phil makes a promise to himself.

He’s going to be there to support and love and protect his boys, all of them.

Even though Dream hasn’t been a part of his family for long, the man certainly is now. 

Dream’s stuck with him whether he likes it or not, because Phil has deemed him not only a member of his flock, but one of his boys--his sons--too.

For the first time in much too long, Dream’s finally gonna know what it’s like to be able to come to a parent for help and comfort when the world gets too hard to face alone.

And Phil couldn’t be happier about having another son. 

Chapter Text

Six Years Ago…

"Dream?" Drista whispers into the darkness of their shared room, unable to see her brother through the pitch blackness of the night, but she's certain that he's here, knowing that he'll never leave her side.

"What's up?" Dream questions back just as quietly, worry prickling at his chest because Drista should be asleep already, not lying wide awake well into the night like him.

"'M hungry," Drista admits after a few moments of hesitation, those words feeling like a punch to the gut to Dream, the teenager wishing that he could do better, that he could live in a world where he'd make sure his little sister never knew what it was like to feel the aching, gnawing pains of hunger.

"Want me to find something for you?" Dream asks with a sad smile as he rolls over on their bedding made up of hay, looking into Drista's bright green eyes and smiling sadly when he sees that hers are watery from tears she's trying hard to keep at bay.

"We don't have any gold," Drista points out the obvious, her words causing Dream to bite back a curse, a part of him missing the times before Drista was so damn smart, the times before she understood exactly what going out to find--aka steal--food really meant.

"I know," Dream reluctantly admits, finding one of Drista's smaller hands and holding it in his own as he continues, "I'll make it work though if you're really that hungry."

For a long, long time Drista stays silent, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she tries to decide what to do.

She knows that stealing is wrong, that they should never, ever steal from people who worked hard to get that food. 

But she also knows that they don't have gold to buy themselves food, can't get any gold because people can be very, very mean to hybrids and that's why her older brother doesn't have a job. 

And, if she's being perfectly honest, she's so hungry.

She tried to tell the ladies running the orphanage that they didn't get dinner because all the older kids took it, but then they started yelling and screaming and Dream started growling and she started crying and all she wanted was some food why can't they just have food like everyone else gets to hav-

"Hey, hey, take a deep breath, it's okay, Lil Sis. I've got you, it'll all be okay. Count with me, yeah? Two. Four. Six. Eight."

"T-Ten," Drista shakily murmurs as she buries her head against Dream's chest, some of her trembling subsiding as her older brother wraps his massive wings around them both, keeping them safely cocooned and isolated from the outside world.

When Drista's breathing has finally evened out to a steady pace again, Dream reassuringly says, "That's my brave little sister. You did so well."

"Thanks, Dee," Drista murmurs with a wide smile, a deep, rumbling purr settling in her chest at the sound of her older brother's praise.

In reply, Dream rumbles right back, the sound making his own chest vibrate loudly, something that causes Drista to giggle as those sensations tickle where the side of her face is pressed up against him.

Soon, the moment is ruined when her stomach growls loudly and obnoxiously, the sound causing Dream to grimace as he says, "I'll go get you some food, okay? I'll be back in less than 10 minutes."

Before Dream can pull away to slip out of their little shared room, Drista grips him tightly while weakly requesting, "Stay close?"

"Always," Dream promises without hesitation, afterward smiling sadly and pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pulling away.

After standing up, Dream takes off his tattered jacket and gently drapes it over his little sister, certain that he'll be freezing the second he steps into the frigid night air, but that doesn't matter as long as it's to make his sister's life the slightest bit better.

"See you soon," Dream whispers with a sad, bittersweet smile, afterward shimmying open the window and climbing through it.

There's no ledge to stand on, just solid ground three stories below, but that doesn't matter as his massive jet-black and purple speckled wings snap open with a deafening crack and send him soaring into the night sky.

Normally Dream would spend a few moments just basking in the feeling of the wind whipping against his wings and touseling his hair, but he can't tonight, not when his sister is hungry. 

So, he quickly tucks his wings against his back and divebombs down toward the marketplace closest to the orphanage, only snapping open his wings again when he's close to the ground in order to slow his descent.

Now that he's on the ground, Dream pulls his wings in as close to his body as he can, trying to make himself as small and unobtrusive as possible to avoid catching anyone's attention.

Not wanting to press his luck, Dream scampers toward the first marketplace stall he finds, knowing that every moment spent away from Drista is another second that something bad could happen while he isn't there to protect her. 

If Dream had been less worried about his sister and more focused on the stall he was approaching, he would've noticed that the shopkeeper is sitting at the edge of the tent, bleary-eyed but very much still awake.

But Dream doesn't notice him, his wide eyes staring at the many different freshly baked breads and pastries with undisguised want.

His own stomach rumbles desperately, having not been fed for days now, but that doesn't matter, not when every little bit of food needs to go to Drista so she doesn't have to experience the same gnawing hunger pains that he does. 

With trembling fingers, Dream snags a piece of bread, not even taking the time to examine anything else, just trying to grab Drista's food and get out as fast as possible.

While using one hand to clutch the bread to his chest, Dream unfurls his wings, getting ready to take off into the night sky so he can bring Drista her meal.

But he never gets the chance to lift off into the air toward safety, a hoarse scream tearing through his chest when large hands wrap around the base of his wings and yanks, sending him sprawling onto the ground below, the bread falling from his hand and rolling far out of reach.

"Please, please, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I just wanted bread for my little sister, please," Dream desperately begs as tears rush to his eyes, his hands furiously clawing at the cobblestone pressed up against his front, but he can't crawl away with his wings still firmly held by a man more than three times his size.

"You filthy little rat, tryin’ ta steal from me," the man growls in a low, menacing tone filled with anger and disdain as he hauls Dream up to his feet, one hand still gripping the kid's wing and the other moving to grab Dream's right arm and pin it behind his back, making it nearly impossible for him to get away. "Oughta teach all ya dirty hybrids a lesson."

Dream opens his mouth to keep begging, but only frantic puffs of air and strangled sobs escape him, his heart hammering furiously in his chest because, holy shit, he fucked up, he fucked up so bad.

As the man leads him to his doom, Dream tries to fight back, tries to struggle and squirm in his grasp with all his might, but his attempts only seem to piss the man off if his painfully tight grip is anything to go by. 

Eventually, they reach the center of the town, the man dragging him all the way up the stage steps and to the middle where a large post is firmly rooted into the ground, that tall wooden pillar every hybrid's worst nightmare.

He's being brought toward the whipping post.

Fuck!

This is bad, really really bad, they're going to hurt him, they're going to hurt his wings, he doesn't want his wings to be hurt, please please please!

The man chains his wrists high above his head, making it impossible for Dream to escape, but he still tries, still pulls against the harsh iron with all his might. 

Dream can't hear anything over the rush of blood through his ears from his rapidly-pounding heart, but he must be shouting and screaming, his incoherent pleas steadily gathering a large crowd of humans and hybrids alike, the hybrids watching him with pity and humans staring at him with cruel delight shining in their cold eyes. 

He can't see much through his tears, but he doesn't miss a familiar person in the crowd, recognizing those smaller wings so similar to his own no matter what else is happening.

That means that Drista is here.

Drista is here, about to watch him get publicly hurt and humiliated in front of the whole town.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Fuck fuck fuck!

Please, please, just go away, don't watch this please, I don't want you to see me like this, please!

The universe must not be on his side today because Drista keeps on watching, her eyes wide and filled with tears as she looks at her older brother chained up on stage like some kind of criminal, as if he isn't the most wonderful person in the whole world.

Dream isn’t sure how much time passes before someone else comes up on stage with him, but that time is much too short, please, he doesn’t want this person to be here because that means he’s going to be hurt and he doesn’t want to be hurt pleas-

“To all the hybrids gathered here tonight,” the man on stage with him shouts in a commanding and booming tone that causes Dream to shiver violently with terror, “let this be a warning to you. Next one of you we catch stealing will lose your hand.”

Oh fuck!

Is he about to lose his hand right now?!

Oh fuck oh please not that please please please plea-

The person on stage comes toward him with some strange tool in his hand, the metal, square-shaped object glowing a fiery orange on the side that is facing Dream, the side that’s coming closer and closer and closer and clos-

“Stop, stop it!” Drista screams at the top of her lungs as she tries to get on stage, but there’s a sea of people preventing her from getting any closer, preventing her from being able to save her brother. “Don’t hurt him, please, stop!”

That desperate shout is the last thing Dream hears before his own agonized screams drown out the world around him, the only thing he can focus on being the intense, searing pain currently engulfing his right hand, as if lava is being poured on him until it melts his skin and bones and leaves nothing but tattered remains in its wake.

The man on stage holds the brand against Dream’s hand a few seconds longer than necessary, enjoying the power thrumming through his fingertips at having this thing withering in pain in front of him, smiling as he watches the little dragon try and fail to get away from him.

When the stench of burning flesh gets too terrible to bear any longer though, the man pulls the hot iron off Dream’s skin, smiling smugly at the two letters perfectly etched into the dragon’s blistering red hand, forever marking the filthy hybrid as a thief. 

“Show’s over, go back to your homes!” The man on stage shouts in a tone that leaves no room for argument as he pulls out a sword to cut Dream’s chains, uncaring of the way the dragon instantly falls to the ground in a graceless heap, a choked scream escaping it as its head hits the wooden stage hard.

Then, for good measure, and simply because he can, the man delivers a harsh kick to Dream’s stomach that causes the dragon hybrid to wheeze and gasp for the air that’s been ripped away from him, afterward walking off the stage and returning to his nice cozy home where he never has to worry about going hungry or being desperate enough that he’d resort to stealing. 

As he continues fighting to breathe, Dream curls in on himself, clutching his wounded hand to his chest as tears spill from his eyes unbidden, his wings slowly covering himself like a shield as he sobs and trembles on the ground. 

A few moments later, when he feels a hand press against his shoulder, Dream can’t help but flinch away violently with a distressed whimper, weakly trying to pull himself away from that touch until a familiar voice reassuringly says, “It’s okay, Dee, it’s just me.”

With a heavy, relieved sigh now that he knows it’s only Drista here, Dream struggles to push himself on his hands and knees, smiling weakly with gratitude when his little sister begins pulling him upright. 

“Hol’ on,” Dream slurs as he spreads his wings out behind himself, his words causing Drista to wrap her arms and legs around his lower back tightly, burying her face against his chest as he clumsily takes to the sky.

Normally Drista loves flying with her older brother, loves the feeling of the wind rushing through her much smaller wings as the stars dance above them just barely out of her reach, but not tonight. Instead of staring wide-eyed at the shimmering stars in the sky, she keeps her face buried against Dream’s chest, terrified that, at any moment, Dream’s pain will become too much for him to handle, something that could cause them to go plummeting down to the ground that’s so far down below. 

Luckily, only a few moments later, Dream touches down on a nearby rooftop of a run-down apartment complex, their landing nowhere near as graceful as it usually is, but neither of them ends up any more injured than they already were, so Dream supposes he'll take whatever little victories he can right now.

“How bad is it?” Drista hesitantly questions as she carefully helps her brother lay down on his side so his wings aren’t trapped beneath him, her hands hovering uselessly over his hurt hand that he's desperately clutching to his chest, wishing that she could help, but she doesn't even know how to begin, so unused to seeing her brother in pain, let alone so much that it leaves him shaking and sobbing. 

“It's a ten,” Dream replies through gritted teeth in between sobs, his words causing Drista's eyes to widen an alarm, having only ever heard him admit to his pain being a level three on the scale they created, so a ten is absolutely unheard of and downright terrifying. 

Then, after a particularly violent sob causes sharp, agonizing pain to shoot through his injured hand, Dream begins babbling uncontrollably, “It’s a fucking ten. Prime, it hurts, it really hurts. Please, it hurts!”

After admitting that, Dream squeezes his eyes shut tightly, guilt filling him over looking so weak in front of his little sister, the person he’s supposed to protect, causing him to quickly begin spewing out apologies, “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough or strong enough. I'm so sorry you had to watch that.”

“Please, don't say sorry,” Drista softly whispers as she carefully grabs Dream’s uninjured hand and holds it tightly, tears rapidly slipping down her own cheeks at the sight of her brother like this.

She just wants to take away all his pain and help him feel better again, but she has no idea how.

While still feeling terribly inadequate to take charge of this situation right now, Drista hesitantly suggests, “Why don't you try to get some sleep, okay? We'll be safe here for tonight, you can just rest now.”

For a few moments, Dream doesn't say anything, trying to weigh the pros and cons of staying awake so he can try to keep watch, or if he should get some sleep in hopes of that taking away some of the pain that threatens to steal his breath away at every moment.

Finally, Dream gives in to Drista's suggestion, slowly wiping away his tears and closing his eyes tightly against the sobs that still intermittently shake his entire body violently, hoping that those, along with his pain, will just go away soon. 

But before he can even think of being able to attempt falling asleep, Dream weakly slurs, “W'll ya stay clos'?”

“Always,” Drista parrots Dream’s earlier reply as she carefully lays down beside him, still keeping her hand firmly interlocked with his, that contact helping remind her that, even though her brother is in pain, he's still alive, still right here by her side. 

“Night, Dee,” Drista whispers with a sad smile, but Dream doesn't hear her, his breath already evening out as he falls into a deep, pain-induced slumber.

Soon, Drista falls asleep as well, leaving both brother and sister sound asleep underneath the watchful eyes of the thousands of stars high up above them in the night sky.

Chapter Text

Six Years Ago...

When Drista wakes up again to the early morning glow of the slowly rising sun, the first thing she notices is an intense, uncomfortable heat pressed up against her side, as if she accidentally fell asleep too close to the fireplace and the blistering flames caused her to sweat all through the night. 

But she knows that can’t be the case, not when a crisp breeze cuts through the jacket Dream so carefully laid over her before he went out in search of food, that frigid wind telling her that they must’ve slept outside again.

Wait, why are they outside?

They only ever sleep outside on the nights when it’s really bad, on the nights when the ladies running the orphanage shout about how they should just ‘kill all the worthless hybrids there since no one will ever want those fucking mutts anyways’, those words causing Dream to carefully fly them up onto the roof to spend the night, just in case they decide to make good on that threat one of these times.

Yet Drista doesn’t remember anything like that happening, all she remembers is a large crowd blocking her way, the sound of desperate shouts and sobs and an all-too-familiar scream that she hopes she’ll never have to hear again.

Her wonderful, amazing older brother was screaming last night, was in so much pain that it left him crying.

After remembering the horrible things that happened, any lingering feelings of drowsiness leave Drista in a rush, the young girl bolting upright and looking around for her brother with wide, fearful eyes.

She doesn’t have to search far though, finding her brother fast asleep right beside her, his sleeping form curling tighter into himself now that she’s moved away from him, violent tremors and shivers occasionally causing him to whimper and shake.

“Dee?” Drista nervously questions as she places her hand on Dream’s shoulder to try to shake him awake, but she pulls her hand back immediately when she feels how hot her brother’s skin is.

While Drista isn’t all that knowledgeable about the differences between hybrids and humans, she’s pretty sure that she’s heard Dream say that ender dragons run colder than humans, their skin nowhere near as warm as humans or many other hybrids.

And, if that’s true, Dream’s skin is insanely hot, dangerously so for a human, but much worse for a dragon.

With shaking hands, Drista carefully places her hand on Dream’s forehead like he often does whenever she’s sick, tears rushing to her eyes when she feels how warm and clammy his skin is there.

Dream’s sick.

Her older brother is sick.

What is she supposed to do?

Dream is the one who always takes care of her when she’s sick, not the other way around.

And now that he needs her, now that he might die if things get much worse, Drista has no idea how to help him.

In her growing panic, Drista begins trying to shake her brother awake with renewed vigor, but he doesn’t stir at all, even when the movement jostles his hurt hand, which has become an ugly combination of reddened and blackened skin that’s horribly charred from the brand. 

After a few more moments of trying and failing to wake up Dream, Drista quickly jumps to her feet, nearly tripping over Dream’s jacket that’s much too long for her, but she’s not about to take it off, not when she might be losing her brother.

While trying her hardest to avoid bursting into sobs, Drista begins looking for a way off the roof they’re on, her wings still too small to fly around like Dream, but she knows that she needs to get down, needs to find someone who can actually help her older brother.

Through blurry vision caused by her tears, Drista sees a ladder that descends down to the ground below, her limbs trembling violently as she begins climbing down, part of her absolutely hating leaving Dream all alone up there, but she knows that she has to do something.

By the time Drista makes it down to the ground, her silent tears have turned into harsh, violent sobs that make her want to curl up in Dream’s arms, but she can’t right now, might not be able to ever again because he’s dying Dream’s dying her older brother might die if she doesn’t do anything to help him but she doesn’t know how to help him and she’s scared and just wants someone to tell her everything will be okay please please pleas-

“Hey, uh, you okay?” An unfamiliar voice suddenly says, his words cutting through Drista’s intense panic and causing the young girl to suddenly realize that she’s hunched over on her knees right in the middle of the cobblestone sidewalk, having only traveled a few blocks away from the ladder before she collapsed.

Drista opens her mouth to respond to the person’s question, but no words come out, just a mix between a wheezing gasp for air and a strangled sob, struggling to breathe as her chest begins to feel tighter and tighter and tighter and even tighte-

“Prime, what do I do?” Drista faintly hears that same voice say, but it sounds like he’s talking from underneath water, his voice all distorted by the crashing waves all around them, the waves that are threatening to drown her. 

“Try to take a deep breath, alright? Breathing’s good, just try to breathe,” That voice awkwardly encourages, his inexperienced attempts at trying to get her to calm down making some of the tightness in her chest release the slightest bit, finally allowing her to take in a shuddering, ragged gasp for air.

“There you go,” The voice says with a relieved sigh and audible smile, the sound of his praise helping Drista further calm down, those kind words reminding her of how proud Dream always sounds whenever she stops panicking.

It takes a few more moments of simply breathing before Drista begins to feel better, her sobs coming to an end as the lingering tendrils of panic begin dissipating.

Once she wipes away her tears, Drista slowly lifts her to look up at the person who helped her, her eyes growing wider and her breath catching in her throat once she sees him.

After seeing him, Drista has one thought and one thought only:

You’re an angel.

The person in front of her is a guardian angel, sent to save her and Dream.

Her second thought is that he’s beautiful.

The boy in front of her, who looks to be a few years older than her, is nothing like anything Drista has ever seen. She doesn’t know what angels look like, but she’s certain that, if there ever was one, it’s this boy right here in front of her. Piercing emerald green eyes peer down at her with concern shining clearly in those bright eyes, the sight of them instantly filling Drista with ease in a way that no one else but Dream ever has. While his eyes are the prettiest shade of green she’s ever seen, shining even brighter than the few emeralds she’s seen passed from one rich hand to another, that’s not even what stands out the most about him.

This boy is absolutely glowing.

Most of his skin is covered by a light-gray cloak, but what she can see is a tannish color. She’s seen plenty of humans with that same skin tone after being outside in the sun for a while, but that’s where the similarities stop.

This boy has literal gold in his skin. With just a glance, the boy looks human, but when the sun catches his skin just right, it shimmers and shines like a shiny gold ingot, the sight of it causing Drista’s jaw to drop in awe.

She’s hardly even seen gold before, so for this boy to be made up of gold is unlike anything she thought could be possible, the gold shining in his skin telling her that this must be an angel, must be someone who can help them.

Meanwhile, the boy just awkwardly clears his throat as he rubs a hand covered by a light-gray glove against the back of his neck, the thirteen-year-old boy not understanding why this little girl is looking at him like he’s the one who hung all the stars up in the sky.

When he can’t take the staring any longer, he clears his throat even louder this time before nervously saying, “Uh, hey there. I’m Foolish.”

“Wow,” Drista whispers in absolute awe as she continues staring up at Foolish, entirely unsure what that name means, but it sounds otherworldly, a unique name for the angel in front of her.

“What’s, um, your name?” Foolish hesitantly questions when the girl doesn’t say anything more than that, steadily beginning to regret starting this terribly awkward conversation.

“Drista,” She softly replies in that same awestruck tone, part of her wanting to reach out and touch the boy, to see if his golden skin is as hard as the few golden nuggets she’s been lucky to get her hands on before. 

“Okayyyyy,” Foolish drawls as he begins nervously fiddling with one of his gloves, wishing that the floor would just swallow him up so he doesn’t have to deal with this girl intently watching him anymore. “Well, I, uh, better get going. I’m sure my mom’s worried about where I went. But it was, um, nice meeting you, I guess.”

Those words are what finally stir Drista into action, the girl quickly jumping to her feet and chasing after the hastily retreating boy as she shouts, “Wait, stop, I need your help! Please, you’re supposed to help me!”

When Drista grabs the end of his cloak to try to keep him from leaving, Foolish shoves her away, uncaring of how she falls to the ground as he protectively draws his cloak in closer to his body and angrily says, “Look, I don’t know what you want from me, but you need to leave me alone. Whatever it is, I’m not doing it. Now get out of here!”

For a few moments, Drista just stares up at Foolish, tears rushing to her eyes as her one way to save Dream shouts at her and tells her to leave.

As Foolish turns to walk away, Drista can’t help but start sobbing again, curling in on herself and tucking her wings around her body like a shield, certain that, if this angel won’t save her brother, no one will.

“Foolish, what’s going on?” A woman’s voice suddenly says, her voice barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of her own sobs. “Why’s there a girl crying next to you?”

“I don’t know!” Foolish shouts as he throws his hands in the air in exasperation, his eyes quickly darting around fearfully when the movement causes the hood of his cloak to slip off his head, but thankfully it’s early enough in the morning that the only people around are his mom and this strange girl. “I just don’t know! I saw her crying so I went over there to see if she was okay, but she just kept staring at me! And then she said I’m supposed to help her, and I think she knows. We need to get out of here before she brings others!”

“Sweetheart, she’s just a kid. She’s even younger than you,” The woman says in a sad tone as she kneels next to the crying dragon hybrid, carefully placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

The second Drista feels that gentle hand touch her, she launches herself at the woman, uncaring that this is an absolute stranger, just needing someone to hold her close so she can stop feeling like her entire world is falling apart.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, you’re okay,” The woman whispers as she slowly wraps her arms around the little girl, not at all expecting this to happen, but she’s certainly not going to push someone away who’s in so much pain.

It takes a while, but, eventually, Drista’s tears run dry, one final sniffle escaping her as she weakly begs, “Please, I really need your help. I can’t lose him. He’s all I have.” 

“Who?” The woman asks in a concerned tone as he glances up at her son, but the boy just shrugs, having no idea what’s going on.

“My older b-brother,” Drista whispers as she clings to the woman even tighter, hoping with all her heart that she’ll help. “He’s s-sick. I-I think he might be…”

Drista trails off there, unable to voice the fact that Dream might be dying, but the woman understands her unspoken words, causing her to gently question, “Where is he? And where are your parents? Shouldn’t they be helping your brother?”

“Don’t have any,” Drista mutters with a bitter laugh, wishing for the thousandth time that they could just have parents and a loving family like so many other kids she’s seen. “If I tried to ask for help, the ladies at the orphanage would just yell at me and Dream won’t be there to protect me if they try to hurt me.”

“Oh, Kiddo, I’m so sorry to hear that,” The woman says with a deep, troubled frown as she holds the girl a little closer to her chest, not even knowing her name, but her mama bear instincts are screaming for her to protect the kid from any further harm. 

Then, while pulling back slightly to look into the girl’s emerald green eyes and gently wipe away her tears, the woman says, “I’m Captain Puffy, but you can just call me Puffy. And I’m going to help you and your brother, okay?”

“Really?” Drista hesitantly questions, desperately hoping that this woman is telling the truth, that she really is going to help save Dream.

“Really,” Puffy promises with a patient smile, carefully standing up and helping Drista to her feet as she kindly says, “I know we just met, but it sounds like that orphanage isn’t a very good place. So I can either try to help your brother wherever he is now, or I could bring you both back home with me. Which do you want me to do?”

“T-Take us h-home?” Drista slowly asks, unsure if she’s reading too much into those words, but prime, it sounds like they might be getting adopted right now. “Like… adopt-ting us-s?”

“Yeah, but only if you agree,” Puffy confirms with that patient smile still in place, purposely ignoring the incredulous look that she can see Foolish giving her out of the corner of her eye. 

“Of course I agree!” Drista excitedly shouts as she wraps her arms and wings around Puffy in a bone-crushing hug, unable to stop the flood of words as she blurts out, “Please, please, please, take us home. It’s so bad there. They never feed us and they always yell at us and they said they were gonna kill us because we’re hybrids and I don’t want to die and I don’t want Dream to die plea-”

“Shhhh, it’s alright, no one’s gonna die,” Puffy promises as she returns the little girl’s fierce hug, vowing to herself that she’s going to make sure that this girl never feels this scared again.

“P-Promise?” Drista weakly asks as she buries her face against the woman’s stomach, clinging tightly to her shirt in fear that this moment may slip away. 

“I promise,” Puffy adamantly replies without hesitation, her words causing all the tension to leave Drista’s body in a rush, feeling like everything will be okay again for the first time since she woke up today. “Now how about you take me to your brother and we can see about getting you two adopted, alright?”

Drista eagerly nods her head, then begins rushing off in the direction of the ladder that will bring them all up to Dream, occasionally glancing behind her just to make sure that Puffy and Foolish are actually following.

The second Drista is out of earshot, Foolish grabs his mom’s wrist and demands through gritted teeth, “What was all that?! You can’t just adopt some random girl on the street!” 

“They need our help, Sweetheart,” Puffy points out as she dislodges Foolish’s grip from around her wrist, instead holding his gloved hand and giving it a gentle squeeze as she continues, “She said that they threatened to kill them for being hybrids. That girl can’t be more than ten. Do you really want her to die?”

“Of course not,” Foolish instantly replies in an adamant tone, not wanting anyone to die, let alone this girl who’s even younger than him. “I just… wish we could’ve talked about this more.”

“I know, I do too,” Puffy says in an understanding tone, giving her son’s hand another reassuring squeeze as she continues, “We have been talking about growing our family for months though. You told me you wanted a brother, remember? Now you’re getting a little sister and a brother.”

“That does sound kinda cool,” Foolish admits after a few moments of hesitation, thinking of all the times when he’s had to play video games all by himself because his mom was busy at work, their house feeling terribly big and empty when he’s in it all alone.

“That’s my boy,” Puffy happily says as she pulls her son in close to her side, pressing a kiss to the top of the boy’s cloak-covered head. “I’m sure you’ll love them both.”

“I already made Drista cry,” Foolish hesitantly admits with a grimace, feeling terrible over how he shouted at his new little sister. “I’m sure she hates me.”

“She doesn’t,” Puffy replies in a tone filled with conviction, and that’s that, their conversation coming to an end as they reach the ladder that Drista’s impatiently standing next to as she waits for them to catch up.

As Drista begins climbing up the ladder, Puffy and Foolish following right behind her, she can’t help but smile widely, certain that everything’s gonna be okay now. 

Chapter Text

Six Years Ago…

When Dream wakes up, the first thing he’s aware of is an uncomfortable, throbbing pain in his right hand, the sharp agony causing him to grit his teeth against the burn he feels. 

Slowly, Dream moves his left hand to gently touch his right one, trying to assess the damages but, instead of feeling whatever injury must be causing him pain, he’s met with a soft cloth carefully wrapped around his hand.

“What the hell,” Dream groggily mutters as he slowly cracks open bleary eyes, assuming that his hand is wrapped in some kind of gauze or bandage, but the orphanage never has those to spare, let alone for a hybrid like him.

When his eyes finally focus on his hand, he sees that the skin is indeed covered by pristine white bandage wraps, the sight causing his eyebrows to furrow in concern, wondering what awful thing might’ve happened for such a resource to be used on him. 

With a low, pained groan, Dream rolls off of his back and instead onto his side, his confusion growing when he realizes that whatever he’s laying on is soft, much cushier than anything he’s laid on before.

As his heart leaps into his throat, his chest beginning to feel tighter with each passing moment, Dream takes in his surroundings with wide, fearful eyes. 

The walls of the room are painted a soft yellow, the color mixed with the large window spilling in sunlight makes the room look cheery, but Dream feels anything but welcome here. Beneath the window is a large, oak wood desk and a matching chair, fit with a potted plant that’s home to a cute little pink tulip that’s soaking up the sun’s golden rays. On the chair that goes with the desk is a pillow that matches the same light pink of the tulip and, if Dream wasn’t fucking terrified, he’d probably think that such attention to detail was lovely. The room doesn’t have much else in it aside from the bed--a real bed made out of fluffy wool blankets, not the coarse hay that they always sleep on--and a little oak wood bedside table next to it that has an unopened water bottle on it.

Even though Dream’s throat seems to scream with the desire to have some of that delicious-looking water, he doesn’t dare touch it, not until he figures out what the fuck is going on.

Dream has no idea where the hell he is, but he’s certain about at least one thing: he’s definitely not in the orphanage anymore. 

Needing to get some answers before he begins to panic even more, Dream slowly sits up and stumbles out of bed, his legs feeling horribly uncoordinated after who knows how long of just laying in some fucking bed in some fucking place he’s never been to before with some fucking people who put him here while he was fucking sleeping without him even relaizin-

“Deep breaths,” Dream shakily reminds himself as he squeezes his eyes shut tightly, trying to block out this happy little yellow room that screams of wrong wrong wrong wrong. “Just breathe. You can’t help Drista if you panic.”

Wait a fucking second…

Drista.

Where the fuck is his little sister?!

After having that thought, all of Dream’s panic and fear leaves in a rush, a menacing growl settling in his throat at the thought of someone hurting his precious little sister. 

Quickly, Dream opens the door and steps into a hallway, ignoring the many pictures lining the walls in favor of following the sound of distant voices he hears, swearing to himself that he’ll tear them all to shreds for hurting Drista.

When Dream finally reaches his destination, he’s met with a dining room table where three people sit conversing and eating, but he only has eyes for one of them, his growling becoming even louder and more vicious when a boy with golden skin stands up from the table to back away from him with wide eyes.

“Dee,” Drista calmly says as she slowly stands up and begins approaching him, her hands held out in front of her to show that she means no harm. “It’s okay. You’re safe here. We both are.”

When Drista is only a couple blocks away, Dream tries to move closer to her, but his knees give out from underneath him, his growling tapering off into a pained whine when he tries to catch himself from falling, having forgotten that his hand was hurt.

Quickly, Drista rushes over to Dream’s side, reaching out to check on Dream’s hand, but she doesn’t get the chance, instead finding herself pressed up against a familiar chest with soothing arms wrapped around her.

As Dream hugs his sister close, tears rush to his eyes, some of his protective instincts dying down now that he knows that Drista’s safe.

He still doesn’t know where they are or who the hell is with them, but his sister is safe by his side, and that’s all that matters.

After a while longer of just holding Drista close, Dream finally feels calm enough to speak, whispering quietly enough that only his sister will hear him, “Do you know where we are? And who are these people?” 

“We’re somewhere safe, don’t worry,” Drista says without hesitation, her loud volume causing Dream to wince, wishing that she would’ve gotten the hint to whisper too so the others don’t hear them. “This is Puffy and Foolish, and they’re the people who adopted us a couple of days ago.”

“Adopted?” Dream chokes out in a strained whisper, feeling like the entire world is caving in on him after hearing that one little word.

Fuck, this wasn’t supposed to happen!

They were supposed to stay at the orphanage for just two more years, and then Dream would’ve been old enough to legally adopt his little sister so they could live on their own away from that hell. 

But now they’ve been adopted, and who knows how sick and twisted their new family might be.

The orphanage was a terrible, awful place, but at least Dream knew what to expect there.

And more importantly, Dream knew exactly what needed to be done to keep Drista from getting hurt.

What if things are different here?

What if they would rather hurt Drista instead of him?

Fuck…

Fuck!

Why did this have to happen?!

Why does the universe fucking hate them?!

Even though Dream’s falling apart at the seams on the inside, he doesn’t let any of that show, instead questioning in his bravest tone, “Hey, Lil Sis, would you be okay with going somewhere else so I can talk to the person who adopted us?”

“Sure!” Drista happily says as she pulls back from Dream’s embrace, shooting him a massive grin before turning to Foolish and excitedly saying, “Come on, let’s go finish our game!”

After giving Dream a worried, distrustful glance, scared of the older boy attacking him as soon as he walks by, Foolish follows after Drista, the two kids disappearing into his room to continue the game that they had been playing before dinner.

“Hi, Dream,” A soft, soothing voice says from somewhere off to his left, but Dream doesn’t look up at her, too terrified of accidentally making her angry, something that might cause his little sister to get hurt.

Fuck, he can’t let Drista get hurt, no matter what it takes.

While releasing a shaky, shuddering sigh, Dream shifts positions slightly, still staying on his knees, but he leans forward as far as he can, his hands pressed to the ground and his forehead resting on top of them as he bows.

“Dream?” Puffy hesitantly questions as she moves closer to the boy, not understanding what he’s doing on the floor and why he’s trying to make himself look so… small. “What are you doing?”

While trying his best to choke back tears, Dream weakly begs, “Please, don’t hurt her. You can do whatever you want to me, but please, just leave her alone. She’s so young, she doesn’t deserve to be hurt.”

As Puffy feels her heart absolutely shatter at this broken boy begging to be hurt in order to protect his sister, she kneels beside him and hesitantly questions, “Do you think you deserve to be hurt?”

“It’s better me than her,” Dream mutters with a bitter laugh, the sound somewhat distorted from the tightness invading his throat and the way he’s folded in on himself on the floor, certainly not believing that he’s done anything to deserve all the shit he’s been put through, but he’d gladly take whatever pain comes his way in order to protect Drista.

“I’m so sorry people have hurt you,” Puffy sincerely murmurs as she reaches out a hand to comfort Dream, but she pulls back before touching him, not wanting him to think that she’s touching him to cause pain. “I promise that I won’t hurt you or Drista. Neither of you will ever be hurt when you’re with me.”

“But what about when we fuck up?” Dream boldly questions, already testing boundaries by swearing and talking out of turn to see how long it takes Puffy to take those words back and hit him. 

Instead of striking him, Puffy patiently says, “Then we’ll sit down and have a conversation about what you did wrong and talk about how to do better next time. But that’s all we’ll do, just talk. And it won’t be a one-sided lecture, I want you to talk too. I swear to you that I will never hurt my kids, and you and Drista are my kids now too.”

Dream doesn’t say anything to that, can’t think of a reply to such… unbelievable words, having never heard anyone ever say anything even remotely close to that, let alone so sincerely.

When Dream is silent for a long time, Puffy gently questions, “Do you want to sit up? It can’t be comfortable staying like that.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Dream moves from his hunched position on the ground, instead sitting so his left side is leaning against the wall, his knees pressed close to his chest as he wraps his arms around himself in a sad imitation of a hug.

“There you go,” Puffy encourages, simultaneously wanting to pull Dream into the biggest hug ever and slaughter every single person who has hurt this boy so badly. “You’re doing so well.”

Dream releases a bitter chuckle at that, knowing that he certainly isn’t doing well. In fact, if he behaved even half as bad as this at the orphanage, he’d be lying in a pool of his own blood right now. 

But instead of punishing him for his numerous perceived transgressions, Puffy softly asks, “Are you hungry? I made some dinner for you if you want it.”

Dream doesn’t respond, biting down hard on his bottom lip to keep from speaking, knowing that, if he opens his mouth, it’ll be to beg and plead for food, something that’ll make him even more indebted to Puffy. 

His stomach seems to have other ideas though, the thought of food making it growl loudly and obnoxiously, the horrible sound causing Dream to curl in on himself, protectively wrapping his wings around his body to try to lessen the pain of the blow that’s sure to come.

With a frown on her face, Puffy slowly stands up, hating how absolutely terrified Dream seems of being hurt at every moment. 

Before she can make sure he isn't allergic to any types of food, they both hear the sound of the door to Foolish’s room being opened.

Like a switch being flipped, Puffy watches in disbelief as Dream instantly uncurls from the little ball he had folded himself into, his legs spreading out in front of him and arms casually crossing over his chest, an easy smile slipping onto his face as Drista pokes her head into the dining room.

“You okay?” Drista hesitantly questions as her eyes nervously glance between Dream sitting on the floor and Puffy standing in the kitchen.

“Of course I am,” Dream adamantly says with that little smile still on his face, every single trace of fear erased from existence now that Drista’s here. “You know you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I know, but I’m just making sure,” Drista softly admits as she looks down at the ground, her cheeks heating up with embarrassment as she admits, “I was really scared. You got super sick, Dee. I wasn’t sure if you’d ever wake up again.”

“I’m so sorry,” Dream honestly says as his smile falls, scowling at the thought of making his little sister worry so much about him, especially since he knows that he should be stronger than this. “I’m okay now though, promise. You can go have fun playing your game, I’ll be fine out here. I’m just gonna eat dinner and get some more sleep.”

“Alright!” Drista happily says in agreement, feeling reassured by Dream’s words. “Night, Dee!”

“Good night,” Dream replies with the ghost of a genuine smile, rolling his eyes fondly as Drista scampers back to Foolish’s room to continue playing their game.

Once she’s gone, Dream brings his knees to his chest again, burying his head in his hands with a heavy sigh, feeling so tired and drained from all his pain and the lingering effects of his earlier fear and panic.

After a few more moments of just watching in a mix of awe and horror as Dream changes everything about himself so abruptly, Puffy shakes herself from her stupor and grabs the extra plate of food from the refrigerator, putting it in the microwave to heat it up as she begins clearing off the half-finished plates on the table from dinner.

Before the microwave can beep to signify that it’s done, Puffy opens it up and takes out the food, not wanting to risk the loud beeping noise making Dream afraid once again.

Instead of asking if Dream wants to move to the table, certain that that wouldn’t go well at all, Puffy carefully places the plate of food on the ground in front of Dream while softly saying, “Here you go, Dream. Make sure to blow on it before you eat it, it’ll be hot.” 

Slowly, Dream moves his head away from his hands, wanting to just curl up and sleep away the pain and tiredness he feels, but he learned a long, long time ago how important it is to never turn down a meal, especially since it could be days before he gets to eat again.

In his tired state, Dream half expects to see a piece of stale bread and some kind of brown mush--the food that they were given at the orphanage whenever there was enough for everyone--but that’s certainly not what Puffy gives him.

In front of him is a plate that has a steaming piece of cooked chicken with spices and herbs sprinkled on top of it, a baked potato with butter spread on the inside part where it’s been cut, and a side of cooked carrots, the sight causing his eyes to widen in absolute shock, having never seen so much food all on one plate before.

Knowing that there must be some kind of mistake, that this wonderful meal must have been given to him by accident, Dream hesitantly asks, “This is really for me? I can eat all this?” 

“Yeah, Sweetheart, that’s for you,” Puffy whispers as tears rush to her eyes, her heart breaking for what feels like the thousandth time now. “I know it’s a lot of food, so whatever you don’t finish you can just have later. We’ll put the leftovers in a container in the fridge and you can just grab it and eat it whenever you want to.”

Those words are what finally gives Dream the confidence to look up at Puffy, to see the face of the person that, somehow, has treated him with nothing but kindness so far. 

The first thing Dream notices upon looking at Puffy is that the woman is a sheep hybrid, half black and half white wool spilling from the top of her head down to her shoulders, similarly colored wool covering each of her hands, almost making it look like she’s wearing a black and white fuzzy glove on each hand. Next he’s met with a kind smile and even kinder deep brown eyes that both exude nothing but protection and safety, the sight causing some of the tension to ease out of Dream’s body. 

While shakily gripping the fork, Dream murmurs with all the sincerity he can muster in his exhausted state, “Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome, Dream,” Puffy happily says as her smile grows even wider, her heart singing with joy at making Dream at least a little more comfortable.

When Dream puts the first bite of chicken in his mouth, he can’t help but whine loudly at the burst of flavors, more delicious than anything he’s ever had in his whole life. 

“This… is amazing,” Dream sincerely says around mouthfuls of his food, enjoying his meal too much to care about being polite like the way he knows he should.

When Puffy releases loud, bubbly laughter at his words, Dream can’t help but smile ever so slightly as he continues eating, wondering for the first time in ages if getting adopted could actually be something good.

After Dream’s eaten a few more bites of food, Puffy can’t help but curiously question, “By the way, what’s your favorite color? I already asked Drista what her’s is, so I’m curious to know yours too.”

While raising an eyebrow in confusion, not understanding why an adult is asking about his favorite color, Dream hesitantly replies, “I like green, especially lime green.”

“That’s a nice color,” Puffy praises with a wide smile, ecstatic that Dream’s already told her something he likes, even if it’s something as small as his favorite color.

For a few moments, Dream just stares at Puffy, trying to figure out why she asked such a strange question but, eventually, he gives up in favor of returning to eating his dinner. 

By the time Dream starts to feel too full to keep eating, he hasn’t even finished a third of his food, but Puffy doesn’t scold him for not eating enough, instead taking him to the kitchen and showing him how to wrap the food to put it in the fridge, once again reminding him he can eat it whenever he wants to. 

Spurred on by a sudden urge that he doesn’t fully understand, Dream wraps his arms around Puffy, hugging her tightly while weakly pleading, “Please keep being so nice to me.”

“I will, Dream, I promise,” Puffy adamantly replies without hesitation as she hugs him in return, feeling the way he sags in her embrace as he clings to her for dear life. “I know you don’t believe it yet, but you and Drista are safe here.”

Dream doesn’t believe those words, can’t believe them when every adult in his life has either left him behind or hurt him, so he simply nods his head as he continues hugging her, some childish part of him just wanting to be held close as someone promises that everything will be okay, much like he’s done for his little sister time and time again. 

After a few more moments, Dream pulls away from the hug, wanting to stay like that forever and ever, but he also feels so fucking tired, that feeling amplified by the fact that his hand still hurts like hell.

So, hesitantly, Dream softly questions, “Can I go to sleep, or do you need anything from me?” 

“Of course you can go to sleep, Sweetheart,” Puffy gently replies without hesitation, her words causing Dream to smile slightly as he ducks his head down to the ground, his heart fluttering at being called such a nice little nickname. “Hope you sleep well.”

“Thanks, hope you do too,” Dream whispers with his small smile still in place, afterward making his way back to his the bedroom. 

When Dream lays down on the bed again, he can’t help but snuggle under the soft blankets with a content sigh, not quite feeling safe here yet, but he can’t deny how nice it is to feel comfortable and warm while sleeping in an actual, real bed.

As he drifts off to sleep, Dream finds himself smiling ever so slightly, hoping that this new, unexpected situation will turn out to be something good for him and Drista. 

Chapter Text

Six Years Ago…

“Dream, are you awake?” Puffy softly questions as she lightly knocks on the door to Dream’s bedroom, not wanting to wake him up if he’s still asleep, but hoping that, if he is awake, he’d be willing to join them all for breakfast. 

“Yeah,” comes the quiet, uncertain reply from behind the closed door, Dream having woken up a while ago, but he wasn’t sure if he should leave his room or not, resulting in him just sitting up in bed for hours while stewing in his anxiety.

“Can I come inside?” Puffy asks with a small smile, unable to see the way Dream’s eyebrows furrow in confusion at the question, unsure if anyone’s ever asked him if they could enter rather than just barging inside.

Once Dream voices his agreement, Puffy opens the door and steps inside, the sheep hybrid’s hooves making little shuffling noises against the carpet as she makes her way over to Dream’s bed.

Instead of sitting on the bed along with him, Puffy grabs the chair beside the desk on her way over and places that near the foot of the bed, putting some distance between herself and Dream, something that must be appreciated based on the small, shaky sigh of relief that Dream releases once she sits down.

“How did you sleep?” Puffy asks when the silence between them stretches on a little too long, feeling like she’s totally out of her element whenever she tries to talk to Dream; with Drista it was easy and, in less than a full day, she and Foolish had already gained the girl’s trust, but Puffy can’t help but wonder if she’ll ever get Dream to extend any trust to her.

“I, uh, slept really well actually,” Dream awkwardly murmurs as he begins fiddling with a few of the shimmering scales that line his arms, desperately wishing that Puffy will either tell him what she expects of him or just leave him alone because he absolutely hates the feeling of not knowing. “Thank you for, um, the bed. It’s very soft.”

“Of course, Dream, I’m glad you like it,” Puffy replies with a wide, genuine smile, relieved to hear that Dream got some sleep, especially since the circles beneath his eyes are so dark that they look like bruises. 

Then, after nervously clearing her throat, Puffy pulls out a gift bag from her inventory and holds it out in Dream’s direction as she happily says, “I made something for you. Think of it as a welcome to the family present.”

“What?” Dream asks in absolute shock and bewilderment as he stares at the bag in Puffy’s hand like she’s holding lit TNT that’s about to go off and explode at any moment, certain that he’s not being given a present, especially when he’s done nothing to deserve it.

“This is for you,” Puffy reiterates as she gently places the gift bag in front of him, a frown gracing the sheep hybrid’s features when he flinches back violently, eyeing the bag with a heartbreaking amount of distrust. “You can go ahead and open it, Dream. I promise nothing inside will hurt you.”

“I don’t understand,” Dream whispers as he finally tears his eyes away from the bag, staring up at Puffy in unadulterated confusion, unable to wrap his head around the fact that he’s already been given food and a bed to sleep in and his own room and so much more, yet she’s trying to give him something else too. “Why are you giving me things? Why aren’t you hurting me? Why are you so nice?” 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Puffy says in a heartbroken tone, tears rushing to her eyes as she continues, “Can I give you a hug?”

Slowly, Dream nods his head, not understanding why she wants to hug him, but he still remembers the hug they shared last night in the kitchen, the way it felt to have someone wrap their arms around him and hold him close.

While smiling sadly, Puffy moves onto the bed and gently pulls Dream into a hug, feeling the way he absolutely slumps against her chest, as if he can’t bear the weight of holding himself upright anymore.

When Dream begins sniffing and Puffy feels a damp spot start to grow, she gently encourages, “That’s it, Sweetheart, just let it out. You don’t have to be strong all the time anymore, I’ll take care of you.”

And it’s at those words that Dream breaks, sobbing uncontrollably in Puffy’s arms because, for the first time since he started raising his sister at age 7, he’s being told that he doesn’t need to be strong anymore.

Eventually, Dream starts to calm down, but he doesn’t pull away, gripping tightly to Puffy in fear that she might make him leave now that he’s no longer crying.

But it seems that his fears were entirely unfounded because Puffy simply holds him more firmly and murmurs into his hair, “I’ve got you, Dream. It’s all gonna be okay. It might not feel like it right now, but things will get better, I promise.” 

Needing some type of distraction from how those words make him feel all kinds of things, Dream weakly questions, “Wh-What did you g-get me?”

While still holding Dream close, Puffy happily explains, “I noticed that the jacket Drista’s been wearing is huge on her, so I’m guessing it’s yours. And that means you don’t have anything warm to wear. It’ll start getting colder really soon, and I wanted you to stay nice and warm, so I ended up making you a hoodie.”

For a few moments, Dream just sits there in shock, finding it hard to come to terms with how much thought and effort Puffy seems to have put into this.

When Dream doesn’t say anything, Puffy gently prompts, “Would you like to see it?”

Hesitantly, Dream nods his head, not wanting to let Puffy go, but he really does want to see the jacket now. 

While gently pulling away from Dream’s embrace, Puffy picks up the gift bag and holds it out to Dream, smiling widely when he grabs it with a shy, “Thank you,” and a barely-there smile.

After taking a deep breath to steel himself, Dream reaches into the bag, carefully pulling out the various pastel colors of tissue paper until he finds his gift at the bottom, the sight of it causing him to take in a sharp breath of air.

With trembling fingers, Dream delicately pulls out the hoodie, unable to hide the massive grin on his face over the beautiful lime-green color that spreads across every inch of the hoodie's feather-soft fabric.

“This is for me?” Dream whispers in absolute awe as he tenderly rubs his fingers over the wonderfully soft fabric, certain that this hoodie is the nicest thing he’s ever felt in his whole life.

“Yeah, Dream, it’s all yours,” Puffy confirms as she watches Dream admire his new hoodie, nothing but fondness shining in her brown eyes from the absolute joy she sees on Dream’s face. “Wanna try it on?”

“What if I mess it up?” Dream nervously questions, wanting nothing more than to wear the amazing hoodie, but he doesn’t know if he could live with himself if he ruined it.

“You won’t,” Puffy confidently says, further explaining once Dream gives her a doubtful look, “I enchanted it with mending, so you have nothing to worry about.”

“What does that do?” Dream can’t help but curiously ask, certain that he’s heard that word before, but he has no idea what it actually means.

“It does different things depending on what item it’s on,” Puffy patiently says with a smile, feeling ecstatic that Dream’s growing comfortable enough to ask her questions. “On tools and weapons, it makes them harder to break. But on clothes, it does two things. The first is that it’ll make it so no visible stains will go on the hoodie, even if you spill something like coffee on it. And the other thing mending does on clothes is make them easy to repair. So, if you ever end up tearing the hoodie, all you need to do is put in a few stitches and the fabric will mend itself as if the hole was never even there.”

“Wow,” Dream whispers in amazement, his wide eyes staring at Puffy with child-like wonder in them, the sight causing Puffy to smile, but there’s a bit of a bitter tinge to it, assuming that nothing about Dream has ever been very child-like. “That’s amazing!”

“I’m glad you think so,” Puffy says with that same little smile still in place. “The color’s okay, right? I know you said that lime-green was your favorite color, but I wasn’t sure if I got the right shade-”

“It’s perfect,” Dream adamantly interrupts Puffy as he clutches the hoodie to his chest, not wanting the sheep hybrid to think for even a single second that this isn’t the most amazing thing anyone's ever done for him. “This is perfect. Thank you, thank you so much!”

“You’re very welcome,” Puffy replies with a wide smile, meaning every word as she continues, “You deserve to have nice things, Dream. I hope you’ll start to realize that now that you’re here with me.”

Unsure what to say to such unexpectedly kind words--or maybe he should start to expect this kindness that Puffy keeps endlessly sending his way--Dream simply nods his head in response.

As Dream goes to put on the hoodie, he looks for the backside so he knows which way to wear it, his heart clenching painfully where he sees a deliberately-shaped hole in the back of the hoodie.

“You made a hole for my wings to fit through?” Dream barely manages to choke out against the building tightness in his throat, continuously feeling so shocked and in awe of how nice Puffy has been so far. 

“I did,” Puffy replies, growing a little nervous as she adds on, “I wasn’t sure exactly where to put it, but we can easily make a new hole and stitch that one up if we need to.”

Knowing that if he opens his mouth to speak he’ll just start crying again, Dream flings himself at Puffy’s chest, hugging her tightly in hopes that doing so expresses at least a little bit of the gratitude he feels toward her.

“I take it you like the gift?” Puffy can’t help but cheekily tease as she hugs Dream in return, chuckling softly when he vigorously nods his head. 

Much sooner than the last time they hugged, Dream pulls away, beyond eager to try on his new hoodie now.

While being mindful of his injured hand, Dream pulls the hoodie over his head, shivering at the feeling of warmth engulfing his form, the hoodie feeling like a nice, warm hug that doesn’t ever stop, the fabric making him feel safer than he has in a long, long time.

“What do you think of it?” Puffy questions after a few moments of just letting Dream examine the way the fabric covers his body, noticing the way it bunches up around his waist as he sits, the sight telling her that it is much too long for him right now.

“I love it,” Dream replies without hesitation as he stands up from the bed to go look in the little hand-held mirror that sits on the desk, for the first time in ages smiling at the sight of his own reflection. “I really love it.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Puffy replies with a smile of her own, finding that Dream’s smile is extremely contagious whenever he looks that happy. “It’s pretty big right now, but I purposely made it that way so you could grow into it. You’re definitely underweight right now, but it should fit perfectly once you start eating more and grow a bit taller.”

“Thank you,” Dream sincerely says as he meets the sheep hybrid’s kind eyes, knowing that those words won’t ever be able to express how much this means to him, but he still hopes that Puffy understands.

“You’re welcome, Dream,” Puffy happily says as she stands up from the bed and approaches him while asking, “So, how about some breakfast now?”

“Do you, uh, still have to cook it?” Dream questions as he sticks his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, wanting to hide away in the fabric the second he asks that, knowing that he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. 

But Puffy doesn’t get annoyed about his question, instead cheerily saying while walking out of his bedroom, “Yeah, I still have to make it, but it shouldn’t take too long.”

While following Puffy out into the hallway, Dream cautiously asks, “Would I maybe be able to help you with it?”

“Dream,” Puffy firmly says as she stops walking and turns around to face Dream, feeling a stab of guilt at the way he flinches and takes a step back, but she knows that she has to clear this up now. “You don’t have to help me cook. You don’t have to help me do anything. The hoodie was a gift, simple as that. There aren’t any strings attached, I promise.”

For a few moments, Dream simply bites his bottom lip as he stares at the spruce floors beneath them, a question on the tip of his tongue, but he’s scared to ask it.

Finally, Dream just decides to bite the bullet and softly questions, “What if I want to help you cook?”

“Do you want to?” Puffy questions with eyebrows raised in surprise, having thought that Dream was offering simply because he felt indebted, but maybe there’s something more going on here.

“Um, yeah, I do,” Dream nervously says as he keeps looking at the floor, unable to meet Puffy’s gaze that he can feel boring into him as he admits, “I’ve, uh, always wanted to learn how to cook, but I never got the chance to. I couldn’t help but think that, maybe if I did know how to, Drista and I wouldn’t have been hungry so often.”

As her heart shatters into thousands of fractured pieces upon hearing that, Puffy vows to never let these kids go hungry again, meaning every word when she says, “I’d love to teach you how to cook.”

“Really?” Dream questions in a small, hopeful voice as he finally finds the courage to look up from the ground.

“Really,” Puffy confirms, reaching out a hand toward Dream as she says, “Come on, I’ll teach you how to make pancakes.”

After only a few seconds of hesitation, Dream takes Puffy’s outstretched hand, allowing the two of them to walk hand-in-hand to the kitchen where Dream receives the first of many cooking lessons.

Chapter Text

Five Years Ago…

This past year has undoubtedly been the best year of Dream's entire life. For the first time in his life, Dream learned what it's like to feel safe and cared for, to not carry the burden of trying to take care of another person on his shoulders.

He'd be lying if he said that the first few months weren't rough. It felt like a constant battle, one step forward followed by a step backward. Every time he found himself starting to trust Puffy, he'd get lost in his head and overcome with thoughts that claimed that, eventually, she would hurt him, just like every other adult has.

By month three of Puffy continuing to show him and Drista nothing but kindness, Dream was able to finally ignore the voice in the back of his mind telling him that soon he would be hurt and betrayed.

And once he started ignoring that voice, everything got so much better.

He started spending more time with Puffy and Foolish, venturing out of his room for more than just mealtimes. Cooking with Puffy became a routine rather than a lesson here and there whenever he was able to get past his fear and anxiety. He even started playing games with Foolish and Drista every once and a while, unable to forget the absolute beaming smile Puffy wore on her face whenever she watched all of her kids laugh and play together.

There's still some hiccups, still sometimes when he wakes up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, the feeling leaving him terrified until he sneaks into his sister's room to confirm that Drista's alright.

His hand still has that fucking brand on it, the sight causing a sick feeling to settle in his stomach whenever he thinks of that day, but he's learning to live with it. He's learning to live with the constant twinge of pain in his hand, learning to live with how the smell of burning food makes him want to throw up as he's reminded of the scent of his own charred flesh.

But he's doing alright.

Hell, he's doing better than ever before.

This is definitely the happiest he's ever been. 

That's why he should've known that it would end. 

He just didn't ever expect everything to go up in flames before his eyes.

"Hey, Puffy, what're we making for dinner tonight?" Dream asks with a smile as he casually leans his elbows against the counter, his wings fanning out around him and lightly touching the floor as he leans his body weight on the counter, the lime-green hoodie that Puffy gave him during what feels like a lifetime ago snuggly hugging his form, the hoodie no longer big and baggy like the day he first got it.

"I don't know, I was thinking maybe stew tonight," Puffy says as she opens the refrigerator door and peers inside, making a note to herself that she'll have to go to the market soon. "What do you think?"

"Sounds good to me!" Dream cheerily says as he already begins grabbing a pot from the cupboard for them to cook the stew in.

As they begin setting out ingredients, they hear the sound of a door slamming open, followed by a set of hurried, angry footsteps.

When Drista rounds the corner with her arms crossed over her chest and a deep frown on her face, Dream can't say that he's surprised, having gotten used to Drista's frequent tantrums now that she's in an environment where she can safely express her displeasure.

"Mom, Foolish is being mean again!" Drista exclaims in a whiny tone, her petulant attitude causing Dream to turn away so she doesn't see his steadily growing smile.

"I am not!" They all faintly hear Foolish yell from the other room, the sound of their familiar bickering causing Dream to snicker while Puffy just fondly rolls her eyes. 

With a good-natured sigh, Puffy suggests, "Well, how about you stay out here with us since your brother is being mean again?"

"Okay!" Drista eagerly agrees, all of her anger seeming to disappear the instant Puffy mentioned staying with them. 

Already knowing what Drista's going to ask next, Dream gets down on his knees, allowing his little sister to climb up onto his shoulders so she can see what he's doing, the twelve-year-old much too big to be climbing on him still, but Dream doesn't have the heart to tell her that.

As Dream begins to explain to her what he's doing as he works together with Puffy to prepare their dinner, he can't help but smile widely, feeling so content that this is how he gets to spend each and every day.

And then there's a knock on the front door.

"I'll get it," Puffy says as she puts down the carrot she was in the middle of chopping, wiping her hands on the towel before opening the front door.

"Good evening, Sir, how can I help you?" Puffy asks in a soft, meek tone upon opening the door and, without even needing to see who's outside, Dream already knows that there's a human on their front porch.

Fuck.

Carefully, Dream ushers Drista off his shoulders, quickly shushing her when she starts to protest, the sound immediately causing her to shut up, instantly recognizing this version of her older brother.

It's been almost a year since she's seen him like this, but she'll never forget this version of Dream, the one who she knows would do anything to keep her safe. 

After motioning for her to stay there, Dream creeps toward the front door, staying out of sight as he tries his best to listen to their conversation.

He doesn't catch much, but what he does hear makes him grow pale, his mouth becoming terribly dry as a familiar fear fills his veins, the kind of fear that surfaces when you're the prey, cornered and helpless as the predator draws nearer and nearer.

Once he sneaks back over to where Drista is standing in the kitchen, Dream firmly commands in a whisper, "Drista, go to your room and put anything you care about in your inventory, tell Foolish to do the same." 

Without hesitating or saying a word of protest, Drista follows Dream's directions, starting to feel very scared because her older brother never uses her first name. She's always 'Lil Sis', never 'Drista', so this must be serious.

After what feels like a lifetime, Puffy comes back into the room, but the door doesn't close, and the human remains stubbornly standing outside their front door like they're some kind of criminals ready to be escorted to the gallows for their crimes.

"Where are the kids?" Puffy asks him in a low whisper as she comes to stand right beside him, the tightness in her voice that she's trying to hide instantly setting off thousands of alarm bells in his mind.

"Grabbing stuff to put in their inventories," Dream replies just as quietly, his eyes nervously darting over to the door and, even though he can't see the human, he knows that they must still be there. 

"Good," Puffy replies with a relieved sigh, thankful that Dream told them to do that, especially since their time here is rapidly ticking away right now. "Go get on your cloak. And put your hoodie in your inventory, but don't grab anything else, we don't have much time."

While nodding his head in grave understanding, Dream rushes off to his room, quickly taking off his hoodie and storing it in his inventory before grabbing his black cloak and throwing it on, making sure it covers his wings before slipping into his boots and exiting his room.

Quickly, he goes to Drista and Foolish's respective rooms, demanding that both of them forget about whatever they don't have and follow him.

After making sure that both of his siblings' cloaks hide what type of hybrids they are, he rejoins Puffy in the kitchen, Drista and Foolish like two eerily silent shadows behind him. 

Once Puffy sees all three of them ready to go, she walks out the front door, motioning for all of them to follow. 

The second they step outside, Dream's stomach drops, his heart pounding even more furiously in his chest once he sees who’s outside their door.

While the person is a human like Dream assumed based on how politely Puffy spoke, it's not just any human.

The human is dressed in all black, except across his chest are two golden ram horns, that insignia instantly showing that this person is one of Emperor Schlatt's guards.

When Schlatt came into power, he didn't do it through an election chosen by the people. Instead, he did it through forceful sieges and bloodshed. The leader of Manburg who came before Schlatt was a kindhearted ram hybrid who tried to ensure that each and every person in their land was treated fairly, regardless of if they were human or a hybrid. When Schlatt stormed the castle, he didn’t just kill the prior emperor, but also cut off the ram hybrid's horns before doing so. Not only did he mount those horns on the wall of his throne room like a sick fuck, but he made the horns into his insignia, the sight reminding every hybrid who sees it that he brutally slaughtered the emperor that everyone loved and looked up to. And to make matters even worse, upon becoming emperor, Schlatt closed all the borders surrounding Manburg, making it so every hybrid was trapped here, the place that was once a safe haven for them turning into a hellscape that they had no hope of leaving alive. 

And one of the people wearing that insignia is standing right outside their front door.

Not only that, but there are guards everywhere, at least twenty within Dream's line of sight, all of them with swords in their hands as they force hybrids out of their homes. 

When the guard at their door points his sword in the direction of the town square and tells them to move, the four of them do so without hesitation, Dream pulling Drista close to his side as they walk, not willing to take any chances with how many trained guards with weapons surround them.

"Dee?" Drista weakly questions as she grips Dream's hand tightly, absolutely terrified of what's going to happen, especially since she sees more and more people in those uniforms the closer they walk to the town center. "What are they going to do to us? Why are they making all of us leave our houses?"

"I don't know," Dream replies after a few moments of hesitation, already having a pretty good idea of what's about to happen, but he doesn't want to make his sister even more afraid with the truth. "No matter what's about to happen, I'll keep you safe though, I promise."

"I'll keep you safe, all of you," Puffy adamantly says, but her words don't hold the same confidence they usually do, that nervous waver imperceptible to Foolish and Drista, but Dream hears it loud and clear, knowing exactly what it’s like to try and hide fear from people who are younger.

Then, as her throat grows tight, Puffy leans in close to Dream and asks quietly enough that neither of the kids will hear, "If something happens to me, you'll keep Foolish safe, right? I know Drista means a lot to you-"

"Foolish is family too," Dream interrupts her, not wanting Puffy to believe for a single second that he wouldn't do anything and everything to keep his family safe. "We might not be very close, but I won't let anything bad happen to him, promise."

"Thank you," Puffy breathes out with a relieved sigh, then promises in return, "I'll do whatever I can to protect you, but I'm not sure what's about to happen. All I know is that this… It can't be good."

"I know," Dream admits with a heavy sigh, thankful that there's too much noise around them for Drista to hear his next words, "Emperor Schlatt hates hybrids, and now every single hybrid living here is being gathered up into one place. Puffy, it sounds like they're going to kill us. All of us."

"It does," Puffy agrees despite the way those words cause her great pain, a part of her wishing that Dream wasn't so damn smart, that he didn't know the cruelties of humans well enough to figure that out. "But I'll do my best to protect you-"

"Cut the bullshit," Dream growls, feeling the slightest bit of guilt at being so rude, but, considering the fact that they might be walking to their execution right now, he thinks getting upset is certainly warranted. "You and I know damn well that, if they really want us dead, there isn't anything we can do to stop them. If one of us is going to die today, it sure as hell won’t be Drista. I'll throw myself into the line of fire if that will keep her safe. So don't make false promises to me, not when I'm willing to die for my little sister." 

"I don't want you to do that, Dream," Puffy softly says as tears rush to her eyes, hating how ready to die Dream is, as if his own life doesn't matter.

"That's just too damn bad then," Dream hotly replies, refusing to back down, not with something as important as this. "I might be 17, but I'm more than capable of making my own decisions. I've been raising Drista for the past decade. She's my everything. So if it comes down to me or her, you better be protecting her. I can take care of myself, but she's still so young. Promise me you'll keep her safe, even if it means that I get hurt."

"Sweetheart, I can't choose one of my kids over the other," Puffy weakly says, her voice laced with agony, feeling like her heart is being stomped on over and over again right now.

"Promise me!" Dream demands in a raised voice as tears stream down his cheeks, desperately needing to know that, if he dies today, Drista will be taken care of still.

"Dee, what are you talking about?" Drista questions from at Dream's side, having realized that he and Puffy must have been talking about something this whole time while she had no idea.

Dream doesn't respond to his little sister's question, instead just watching Puffy from underneath the hood of his cloak, desperately hoping that she'll agree.

Finally, as tears begin to fall freely from her own eyes, Puffy replies with a heavy heart, "Okay, I promise."

After hearing that, Dream releases a heavy, relieved sigh, feeling like a tremendous weight has been lifted off of him. 

At least now he knows that, no matter what happens to him, Puffy will take care of Drista.

It's that thought that gives him the strength to keep pressing onward with the crowd of hybrids, his hand still firmly interlocked with Drista's like a promise that, no matter what comes next, he'll keep her safe or die trying.

Chapter Text

Five Years Ago… 

As they get closer and closer to the town center, Drista suddenly lets go of Dream’s hand, instead raising her arms up toward him, silently asking for him to pick her up.

And even though Dream is worried about possibly drawing attention to themselves as they travel amongst the crowd, he can clearly see the determined look on Drista’s face, the sight telling him that there is some kind of important reason behind her wanting to be carried.

Once he carefully scoops Drista into his arms and holds her close against his chest, she whispers in his ear quiet enough that Foolish and Puffy won’t hear, “Dee, will you promise me something?”

“Anything,” Dream replies without hesitation, his voice soft and quiet like hers, but that one little word holds so much conviction, proving that he really is willing to promise and give anything and everything to his sister. 

“We need to promise each other that the first person to make it out of this will come back for the other person,” Drista firmly says, her words making Dream’s heart feel like it’s shattering into thousands of fractured pieces, much too small for him to ever be able to repair again.

“Yeah?” Dream questions as he tries his best to keep his tears at bay.

“Yep,” Drista continues in that same unwavering tone. “If you get out of here first, you have to promise to come back here for me. And if I make it out first, I’ll promise to come back and save you too. And once we’re both safe, we’ll rescue Foolish and Puffy and everyone else.”

“You say that like we won’t stay together,” Dream points out, finding that it’s much easier to deflect right now than to admit how terrible Drista’s words make him feel, how the thought of one of them getting out of this without the other makes his skin crawl as he fights the urge to throw up.

“Dee, I may be younger than you and Foolish, but I’m not stupid,” Drista snarkily says, but her words take on a kinder, sadder edge as she continues, “I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I know humans can’t be trusted. And there’s humans everywhere. And they’re all wearing the same clothes too. They might hurt us or separate us or something, and if they do we have to promise to come back for each other.”

Those words draw a strangled whine from Dream, the sound causing Puffy to look over at him in concern, but he doesn’t pay her any mind, not when it feels like his entire world is shattering.

How can Drista suggest that they might be separated when she’s the air in his lungs, the thing that keeps him breathing and fighting to live another day?

How can she suggest that they might be separated when she’s the reason he smiles, the source of every bit of happiness he’s ever felt?

How can she suggest that they might be separated when he’s nothing without her?

“They won’t,” Dream vehemently says as he holds her a little tighter to his chest, knowing that they can’t be separated.

“But they might,” Drista sadly points out, certain that these humans can’t be up to anything good.

“I won’t let them,” Dream growls low in the back of his throat, ready to fight the whole damn world to keep his sister by his side.

“You can’t do that, Dee” Drista gently points out, her words only causing him to growl with renewed vigor. “If you die because you didn’t listen to them, I won’t be able to find you when I come back to rescue you.”

It’s those words that finally cause all the fight to leave Dream in a rush, his growling tapering off into a heavy, weary sigh.

Even though he wants more than anything for Drista to stay by his side, the reality is that he might not be able to do that.

He knows that the odds of either of them making it out of this are low, so low, but if his little sister really was to get away and come back to rescue him, only to find his corpse because he sacrificed himself to try to keep her safe, he knows that it would break her.

Because, for as much as Drista is entire world, Dream is the closest thing to a parent that his little sister has ever known, the only person who has always been by her side in this life.

So, despite the way it pains him to give up the fight, Dream slowly sticks out his pinkie finger and whispers, “I promise that I’ll come back for you when I leave here. And I’ll stay alive until you can come rescue me when you get out.”

“Good,” Drista happily says as he locks her own smaller pinkie around Dream’s and gently shakes them up and down as she promises in return, “I promise I won’t leave you behind, Dee. When I get out of here, I’ll save you and give you the biggest hug ever.”

“Can’t wait,” Dream replies as tears rapidly slip down his cheeks, hating how he knows that, in the long run, neither of these promises will probably mean anything since they might be killed any minute now, but it does bring him the smallest comfort knowing that, even if they end up apart, they’ll still have this promise to hold onto.

When Drista begins wiggling in his arms, Dream carefully sets her down with a watery chuckle, returning to holding her hand tightly.

Puffy raises a questioning eyebrow toward him, seeming to wonder what their conversation was about, but he doesn’t respond, can’t respond when he sees the town center come into view.

The first thought that Dream has once he sees that stage is: we're so fucked. 

Up on the stage, the same stage where he was branded like a fucking animal, stands none other than Emperor Schlatt.

Dressed in an immaculate black suit with a blood-red tie is the emperor himself, the human’s arms held up at his sides as if he is about to conduct a symphony, one filled with nothing but death and bloodshed. His dark brown hair blows lightly in the steadily growing breeze that's slowly bringing a chill to the air as the sun begins to set. His wicked, sister smile is framed by a dark beard, eyes so brown that they almost look black glinting with malicious intent as he rakes his gaze over the crowd of at least 200 hybrids gathered in front of him.

"Hybrids!" Schlatt's booming voice echoes throughout the town center, his commanding tone causing all of fearful whispers and murmurs to die down instantly. "Thank you for coming today on such short notice!"

"It's not like we had much of a choice!" A wolf hybrid shouts angrily from the front of the crowd, several other voices rising up to express their agreement. "You fuckers dragged us out of our homes in the middle of dinner!"

Dream doesn't even need to look at Schlatt, doesn't need to see the man tilt his head in the direction of the wolf hybrid to know what's happening next.

Even though Dream knows that Drista is much too short to see anything, he releases her hand, instead pulling her close to his chest and pressing his hands over her ears just in time for the wolf hybrid to cry out in agony as one of Schlatt's guards stab him in the stomach, the sound of his body hitting the ground seeming deafening in the otherwise silent night. 

"Now, where were we?" Schlatt asks with a casual smirk, as if he didn't just have someone murdered in cold blood. "Oh yes, that's right, the reason I called you all here today!"

"See, I have a problem," Schlatt explains, as if he's just letting all of us in on a little secret. "And, well, that problem is all of you."

"Manburg is a wonderful nation, except for here where all of you run around in your little town like filthy rats," Schlatt says the harsh, insulting words in that same casual tone, as if he is just talking about the weather, not belittling hundreds of different species of hybrids. 

"This problem has gone on long enough!" Schlatt bellows out, his voice causing several kids in the crowd to start crying loudly in fear, Dream watching on in horror as those kids are ripped away from their parents, taken off to the side, and slaughtered by the guards like that wolf hybrid was. "Tonight we put an end to you hybrids!"

And those are the words that Dream has been dreading to hear, the words that seal their fate and promise that none of them are going to be making it out of here alive.

"But first!" Schlatt screams in that same tone, sounding more like a madman than the emperor of an entire nation. "It's time for you to say goodbye to your little town!"

The second those words leave Schlatt's lips, a torch is thrown onto one of the houses on the emperor's right, the flames licking and lapping at the wooden home until there's nothing left of it, then continuing to spread onto other nearby houses until the entire world around them is just red and orange and the scent of burning everything burning the smell so cloying and potent that it's hard to breathe he can't fucking breathe-

Dream faintly feels arms wrap around him and squeeze him tightly, the feeling causing him to suck in a harsh gasp of air as he looks down and sees a familiar set of wide green eyes looking up at him worriedly.

Dream shakily nods his head to show Drista that he's okay, not wanting to risk speaking and bringing down Schlatt's ire.

As the world around them is set aflame, Dream does his best to just breathe deeply while trying to ignore the fact that he can taste smoke and ash on his tongue, just like the day that brand was seared into his skin. 

"Hybrids, you have nothing left!" Schlatt screams over the sound of the roaring flames and the crashing of houses crumbling into nothing but charred rubble. "You have no reason to fight me! Everything is gone!"

Then, with an unhinged laugh, Schlatt commands while pointing, "You can either listen to me or burn! I want all the male hybrids on this side, all the female hybrids on that side! If anyone tries crossing over to the wrong side, you’re dead!"

And then there's a great uproar from the crowd, too many at once for Schlatt's guards to stab anyone who dares to speak while the emperor is.

"Mom, Mom, please, you can't go," Foolish desperately begs as he grips Puffy tightly, broken sobs tearing through his chest at the thought of losing his mom.

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart,” Puffy whispers as tears rapidly slip down her cheeks, holding Foolish with all her might, wanting more than anything to not have to leave him. 

Meanwhile, Dream’s heart fucking drops.

Every instinct inside him screams for him to fight back, for him to yell and kick and scream until Drista is able to stay by his side, because how dare they try to take away his mom and his fucking sister all at the same time.

If it weren’t for that fucking promise he made moments earlier, that promise that he’ll stay alive for Drista, Dream would do just that.

He’d fight until his very last breath, just so he could spend a few more moments with his little sister.

But he knows that fighting back would mean they kill him, something that these guards have already made abundantly clear.

And if he were to die, not only would he be leaving his family behind, but they would no doubt watch as everything unfolded.

Drista and Foolish would have to watch as their older brother died, Puffy would have to witness one of her kids being murdered.

Even though Dream would certainly be willing to die in order to protect his siblings, he isn’t willing to put them through the pain of watching him die, the pain of forever wondering if they somehow could have saved him.

So, instead of fighting back, Dream pulls Drista into a bone-crushing hug, trying his absolute hardest not to think about how this might be the last time he ever gets to hold her in his arms.

As tears rapidly slip down his cheeks, Foolish releases Puffy to hug Drista tightly from the other side, his chest feeling terribly tight at the thought of having to let her go, having to lose the greatest friend he’s ever had.

But despite the way both brothers desperately don’t want to let go of the person they’re holding, they pull back from their hugs when Emperor Schlatt angrily shouts, “Hurry up, we don’t have all day here!”

While taking a step back away from Drista despite every fiber of his being screaming not to, Dream chokes out one final, “Love you, Little Sis.”

“Love you too, Dee,” Drista sincerely says, the young girl giving them a watery smile as she says in a teasing tone, “Take care of him, Foosh. Don’t let him do anything stupid before I see you guys again.”

All Foolish can do is nod, knowing that, if he opens his mouth, all that will come out is another sob.

"I love you all so much," Puffy whispers as tears relentlessly race down her cheeks, every inch of her screaming not to leave them, but she knows that there’s no other option here. "Keep each other safe."

Dream simply nods his head, his throat too tight to speak, but he knows that those words are meant for him, and he'll do everything he can to honor them, he’ll do everything he can to protect Foolish.

Then, despite the way it pains her, Puffy turns her back on her boys and walks hand-in-hand with Drista over to the other side of the stage where all the women and girls stand, trying her best to ignore the sounds of sobbing all around her as she clutches to Drista’s hand like a lifeline, vowing to herself to not let anything bad happen to her little girl.

And Dream and Foolish can do nothing but watch as three wagons drive up from the only direction the flames haven't spread to. Can only watch as, one by one, every woman and girl is forced into one of the wagons. Can only watch as Puffy and Drista disappear into one of them. Can only watch as the wagons all drive away, taking the people they love most with them.

Once the wagons are gone, the two slowly turn toward each other, Foolish bursting into sobs with renewed vigor the second he meets Dream’s eyes, seeing his own pain reflected in them. 

“Come here,” Dream murmurs as he holds out his arms in invitation, clutching to Foolish tightly when the younger boy throws himself at Dream’s chest. 

"What do we do now?" Foolish brokenly asks, unable to imagine living without his mom or sister by his side, especially since he has no idea what's happening to them right now or if he'll ever even see them again.

"We survive," Dream firmly says without hesitation, his heart aching so badly that it’s hard to even breathe, but he's thankful that they at least have each other still and that Puffy and Drista are together. 

Even though he wishes more than anything that he was with Drista instead, he’s beyond thankful that Drista won’t be alone, that she’ll have someone trusted to be there to protect and take care of her. 

While still hugging each other close, they turn their attention back to the stage when Schlatt shouts, "If you ever want to see the rest of your family again, you'll do exactly as I say, got it?!"

No one responds verbally, all of them having learned from the pile of at least 20 bodies from adults and children alike that they shouldn't say a single word.

Seeming to take their silence for compliance, Schlatt eagerly says, "Good, it's settled then! Another wagon will be here to take you to your new homes, isn't that exciting?!"

Too terrified to do anything else, many in the group nod their heads, all of them wanting to go back to their real homes, but those have all been consumed by the flames already. 

"Oh look, there it is!" Schlatt exclaims, his words causing everyone to look in the direction he's pointing at and, sure enough, another two wagons are steadily arriving.

As they are all ushered toward the wagons by the armed guards, Schlatt says in a giddy, proud tone, "You all have no idea what you've just done for Manburg! Instead of wasting all our resources like you have been, you can save the nation! You're going to get Manburg out of debt and make this nation a much better place! You should be proud of yourselves!"

Suddenly, Dream realizes the full extent of what's happening, this new knowledge causing bile to rise in his throat as he fights the urge to throw up.

Schlatt didn't bring them all here to kill them.

While he did kill the people who got in his way or annoyed him, that wasn't his primary goal.

He wants to make money…

By selling them.

Chapter Text

There are no words to describe how I feel after hearing the news about Technoblade. I watched the video on his youtube channel right after it came out, cried on and off for about five hours, cried myself to sleep, and then woke up at 5am and cried some more before writing this. He was such an inspiration to so many, myself included. I hope that he knew how much we all love him. 

I saw a quote on Twitter along the lines of how someone is never truly dead until they've been forgotten. In honor of that, I'm still going to keep writing my stories, and the ones with Techno's character will continue to have him in it. It's still a while before he shows up again in this story, and when I try to write about him I'm sure I'll cry. You might cry too. And that's okay. It's okay to cry. Even though we never knew Technoblade personally, he had a big impact on so many of our lives. So it's okay to cry. It's okay to mourn in whatever ways you need to. Throughout all of this though, make sure to take care of yourselves. I know this is a hard, painful time, but please try your best to take care of yourself. I love you all so fucking much, and my comments are always open if you need to talk. We'll get through this, I know we will <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I might end up taking a break from posting for a while, I'm not sure. I'm still going to be writing this story though, because this right here is one of my greatest sources of comfort. So yeah, if it is a little while before the next chapter comes out, that's why. From the very bottom of my heart, I love you all. I truly do <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 See you again in the future, and take care <3 <3 <3

Chapter Text

Five Years Ago…

As they all walk toward the wagons in a large group, Dream keeps a firm hold of Foolish’s hand, knowing that, no matter what, he can’t let them get separated. 

Thankfully, the two of them manage to end up on the same wagon and settle down in one of the corners, Dream trying his best to choke back his own fear as he pulls Foolish close to his chest, murmuring reassurances to him that Dream can’t find it in himself to believe.

When the wagon begins to bounce down the bumpy streets, Dream carefully takes in their surroundings, looking for any signs of humans, any signs of someone who might not like what he’s thinking of doing.

But the only people around him are young boys and their fathers, or simply men who have lost far too much on this day, his heart clenching painfully in his chest when he realizes that, other than him and Foolish, none of the boys even look to be a teenager, most of them so young, far too young to be this afraid. 

Even though Dream is just as scared, he knows what it’s like to shove down that fear to take care of someone else, causing him to gently maneuver Foolish to the side so he can stand up.

“Dream?” Foolish questions in a worried tone when he sees the older boy stand up, his mouth feeling terribly dry and his heart beginning to beat painfully fast in his chest at the thought of losing someone else today. 

Dream just gives him his most reassuring smile in response, then moves to the center of the wagon, slowly unclasping his cloak and putting it into his inventory, his now-exposed wings drawing the attention of most of the kids in the wagon, many of the adults staring at him with wide eyes, especially since most of the world believes that ender dragon hybrids are simply a myth.

After taking a deep breath to steel himself, Dream says in the most confident tone he can manage, “My name is Dream, and I’m going to help you all.”

At that, every person’s gaze seems to raise to look at him, at least fifty pairs of eyes all watching him, all looking at him like he’s their one and only hope of getting out of here.

Let’s hope he doesn’t fuck it up…

“I know you’re scared, and that’s okay,” Dream gently says as he meets each kid’s gaze, doing his best to smile, doing his best to be their light in this terrible darkness. “I’m scared too, but we can get through this. I know we can.”

As his smile turns into more of a grimace, Dream continues, “I don’t have any way of getting us out of here right now, but I’ve spent a lot of time around humans. I know ways to survive around them, and I’m going to teach you those so we can all stay safe.”

“Rule number one,” Dream starts to say in a confident tone that leaves no room for arguing.

“Never draw attention to yourself,” Drista says in her own wagon at the same time Dream tells the group the most important rule, the young girl having heard those words from her brother enough times that she’ll never forget the three rules, and, like Dream, she’s determined to share what she knows in order to keep Puffy and everyone else around her safe.

“Blend in with the crowd,” Dream continues explaining, wishing that he didn’t need to do this, but, without these guidelines, he’s sure that most of these kids won’t survive whatever hell comes next, especially since many of their parents seem too lost in their grief to begin plotting how to survive whatever comes next. “If you have a cloak, keep your hood up and head down. And if you've ever been told that you're a rare hybrid, stay toward the middle of the group. I don’t want to scare anyone, but you can’t let them know what kind of hybrid you are if you’re a rare one.”

“Are you a rare one?” A little boy who’s a black cat hybrid curiously asks from somewhere within the sea of people, his words causing Dream to smile sadly.

“Yeah, I’m a very rare one,” Dream softly says, his words sounding somewhat bitter, having thought many times that, maybe if he had just been someone different, life would’ve been so much easier for him and Drista. “That’s why I know how important it is to stay hidden.”

“That brings me to rule number 2, which is to listen to everything humans say,” Dream continues the rules with a heavy sigh, desperately wishing that they could all live in a world where everything is equal, where people like him didn’t have to listen to everything someone else says or risk dying. “Even if you don’t like what they tell you to do, you have to do it. You saw the way Emperor Schlatt killed anyone who was too loud or didn’t listen to him. I don’t want that to happen to any of you.”

“What gives you the right to be telling me and my kids what to do?!” A man suddenly asks in an angry tone as he jumps to his feet, the large goat hybrid towering over Dream as he angrily stalks toward him. “Why should we listen to you?!”

“I’m just trying to keep us alive,” Dream firmly says as he stares unwaveringly up at the goat hybrid, refusing to back down or act scared, not when these kids all around him need someone to step up and be a leader. “Have you ever been beaten within an inch of your life just because you were a hybrid? Have you ever been shouted at that you were going to be slaughtered like an animal simply for existing?”

The goat hybrid doesn’t have a response to either of those questions, having lived a safe life in the little village in Manburg where he hardly ever interacted with humans, leading to him never needing to develop a fear of them like Dream.

“That’s what I thought,” Dream smugly says with a nod, turning his back on the man before once again addressing the crowd of hybrids, “I’ve been through a lot, I know how cruel humans can be. I’ve found out the hard way just how bad they can hurt us. All I’m trying to do is keep as many people as possible from getting hurt. If you don’t want to listen, that’s your decision.”

After a few moments of hesitation, Dream can’t help but sigh heavily as he says the last rule, absolutely despising this rule, especially since it forces him to be nice to all the bastards that have hurt him and so many other hybrids: “And the final rule is to always be polite to humans.”

“If you have to talk to them, always call them Sir,” Dream continues as he slowly turns around where he stands so he can meet the eyes of every hybrid he sees, hoping that the eye contact will really drill into their minds how important this is. “Everything you say should end in Sir. If they ask me what my name is, I say ‘my name is Dream, Sir’. If they ask me if I’m scared, I tell them ‘yes, Sir’. Humans love power and respect, and I’ve found that the best way to keep them happy is to call them ‘Sir’.”

“I know you all probably don’t like these rules,” Dream finishes with a bitter chuckle, tears rushing to his eyes with his next words: “Honestly, I hate these rules. It feels so wrong to always be so nice to humans and listen to whatever they say. But I’ve been following these rules for the past ten years and they’ve kept me and my little sister alive. These rules can help you all stay safe, so please, try your best to follow them. Remember to stay hidden, listen to what humans say, and treat them with respect by calling them Sir.”

“We’ll get through this,” Dream promises, those words being said out loud to the entire group, but he only looks at Foolish as he says them, making a silent vow then and there that he’ll keep his little brother safe, even if he has to break these rules and a thousand more to do it. “I know we will.”

Dream gives them all one more smile, then returns back to Foolish, slipping his cloak and hood back on before plopping down heavily beside his brother.

Much to Dream’s surprise, people begin clapping all around him, his cheeks flushing bright red when Foolish nudges him in the side while clapping obnoxiously loud.

When the applause settles down, Dream hears someone loudly clear their throat, that noise accompanied by a shadow passing over them.

Upon looking up, Dream sees the goat hybrid from before, the sight causing him to raise a questioning eyebrow at the man.

While sheepishly rubbing a hand up and down the back of his neck, the goat hybrid says, “Uh, sorry about all that. I think we’re all just stressed right now. But thank you for taking charge and giving some direction, that’s something a lot of us who are much older than you couldn’t do.”

With a surprised little smile, Dream nods his head and sincerely says, “You’re welcome. I saw the opportunity to help people and I took it. We gotta do whatever we can to make it out of this, right?”

“Right,” The goat hybrid agrees, afterward inclining his head toward Dream before returning to the opposite side of the wagon to sit with his two sons. 

For a few moments, Foolish just stares at his older brother, the sight causing Dream to raise a questioning eyebrow.

Finally, hesitantly, Foolish slowly starts to say, “You said you’ve been following those rules for ten years…”

“I have,” Dream confirms as he leans back against the wall of the wagon, his eyes sliding shut of their own accord, his body feeling absolutely exhausted after the speech he just gave and all the other shit that’s happened today. “I came up with those when I was seven. The first month at the orphanage was absolute hell since I’d never been around humans before, but things got better once I had those rules to follow.”

Dream’s eyes suddenly fly open in surprise when he feels someone latch onto him tightly, a frown gracing his features as Foolish clings to him with all his might while whispering through tears, “I’m so sorry that we didn’t save you sooner.”

While pulling Foolish onto his lap so he can hold his little brother easier, Dream says in a soft, sincere tone, “It’s okay, Foolish. I’m just glad that I got to spend this time with you and Puffy. This has been the best year of my life. It really makes all the shit before feel not as bad.”

Foolish doesn’t say anything in response to that, his throat too choked with emotion to speak, especially when he thinks about how when he was seven he was in a nice and safe home with Puffy, yet seven-year-old Dream had to come up with rules to follow just so he could stay alive around humans. 

After a while of just crying as Dream holds him close, Foolish can’t help but feel terribly tired and drained, and, before he knows it, he’s slipping off to sleep, feeling protected in Dream’s arms despite the frightening situation they’ve found themselves in.

For a few moments, Dream just looks down at Foolish as he rests peacefully, a feeling of fierce protectiveness bubbling up inside him as he watches his little brother sleep, promising once again that he’ll do everything he can to protect the boy, to keep this last bit of his family together still.

But, eventually, all the events of today catch up to Dream, causing his own eyes to slip shut yet again, sleep overtaking him swiftly despite the way he tries to fight it, his last thought being a desperate plea of: please, let everything be okay. 

Chapter Text

Five Years Ago...

Dream wakes to the feeling of someone shaking him awake, his eyes flying open in alarm to see Foolish sitting in front of him, the younger boy’s hands firmly rooted to Dream’s shoulders, that contact allowing him to feel how badly his little brother is trembling.

“The wagon stopped,” Foolish says by way of greeting, those words drawing a few muttered curse words from Dream as he’s suddenly flooded with memories of everything that’s happened in such a short time.

After nodding at Foolish in understanding, Dream gently grabs one of his shaking hands and holds it in his own with a sad smile.

While looking into Foolish’s bright green eyes, Dream softly murmurs in a sad, sincere tone, “No matter what happens next, I hope you know that I love you. I haven’t known you very long, but you and Puffy changed our lives, and that’s something I’ll always be grateful for.”

Before Foolish can respond to Dream’s heartfelt words, the wagon door slides open, that movement accompanied by a guard shouting in a firm, no-nonsense tone, “Everyone out!”

Together, the two of them exit the wagon, holding onto each other’s hands like a lifeline as they move with the crowd toward a dark stone stairwell that leads into a cold, damp underground building.

As they walk through the building, Dream realizes with dread that the walls are made of obsidian, the most indestructible material to ever exist, the sight telling him that Schlatt isn’t taking any chances in letting them escape, which is, fuck, that’s really, really bad.

While continuing to travel through narrow hallways made up of obsidian, Dream tries his best to remain calm, watching with eyes wide in fear as they come across a wide open room that branches off into two different pathways, one on the right and the other on the left, both of them looking equally as terrifying and suffocatingly small.

One of Schlatt’s guards moves to the front of the group of hybrids, Dream instinctively hunching in on himself as the guard’s gaze moves from one hybrid to the next, not wanting his height to make the guard notice him and the wings on his back that are just barely concealed by his cloak. 

After spending a few more moments just watching all the hybrids, as if he is trying to count each and every one of them, the guard finally bellows out: “Everyone go down the left tunnel! Anyone who tries to get away will be killed!”

After releasing a shuddering sigh of relief, having feared that maybe they were going to be separated yet again, he and Foolish walk side-by-side toward the left tunnel, hybrids surrounding them on all sides.

As they continue walking, Foolish can’t help but think that the air’s getting thinner, or maybe the other hybrids keep standing closer and closer because his chest is starting to get really tight and he feels like if he were to reach out his arms they would hit the walls of the tunnel because it keeps on getting smaller and smaller and smaller and he can’t fucking breathe he can’t-

“Breathe, Foolish, breathe,” A familiar voice suddenly says, that soothing sound causing Foolish to suck in a harsh breath that he releases in a wheezing cough. “There ya go, that’s it.”

“Wh-What’s happening?” Foolish manages to croak out as he fights for air, his shaky voice laced with fear as he still tries his best to catch his breath.

“Panic attack,” Dream informs him as he begins rubbing soothing circles against Foolish’s back, a large frown on his face as he wishes that he could just take away his little brother’s fear. “Surprised you didn’t have one sooner with all the stress going on right now.”

Foolish simply nods his head at that as he finally begins breathing at a steadier pace, his hand relaxing from its frantic grip on his chest, instead moving to hold one of Dream’s hands. 

Now that Foolish is better, Dream quickly begins walking again, practically dragging Foolish along with him, but one look at their surroundings tells him that the damage has already been done. 

The rest of the hybrids are quite a ways ahead of them, many of them having squeezed around them so they could keep walking while the two of them stopped during Foolish’s panic attack. 

That means that they’re in the back.

And as long as they’re in the back, there aren’t any other hybrids there behind Dream to help hide the noticeable bulge underneath his cloak in the shape of his wings.

The second he realizes that, Dream knows that he’s absolutely fucked.

Once somebody looks at his back, it’s over. 

It’s not a matter of if it’ll happen, it’s only a matter of when, because there’s no way of disguising his wings by hiding in with the crowd anymore.

All Dream can do now is wait for the inevitable as he does whatever he can to keep Foolish from being noticed too.

So, while leaning in close to Foolish, Dream whispers in a pain-filled voice, “Foolish, I think the guards are going to notice my wings. And if they do, you have to keep walking. You can’t let them know what type of hybrid you are too.”

“I can’t leave you,” Foolish whispers back as his heart clenches painfully, feeling sick to his stomach at the thought of leaving Dream behind, something that would make him truly by himself. “What if they hurt you?”

“If they see what you are, your life’s gonna be hell,” Dream bluntly says in that same quiet tone, desperately needing to make this clear to Foolish while they still have time. “I don’t know if anyone like you has ever even existed before. So if you get caught, you’ll become their little research subject, just something for them to poke and prod at whenever they feel like it. Is that what you want?”

“No,” Foolish manages to choke out against the fear threatening to suffocate him, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest at just the thought of his life becoming so terrible.

“Then you keep on walking and don’t look back,” Dream says in a firm tone that leaves no room for argument. “Once you catch up to everyone, you stay in the middle and don’t draw attention to yourself, got it?”

Once Foolish nods his head, Dream smiles sadly and honestly says, “You’re a good brother, Foolish. Thank you for being there for Drista.”

Before Foolish can say anything, Dream suddenly wrenches his hand out of his grip, the loss of contact causing the younger boy to pause for a few seconds in a mix of surprise and alarm.

And then Foolish recovers from his shock and keeps on walking down the tunnel just like Dream told him to, trying to ignore the way tears rapidly slip down his cheeks as he leaves Dream behind.

He’ll get to see his older brother again…

Right?

After taking a deep breath to steel himself for what he’s about to do, Dream continues walking forward, but he goes at a much slower pace than before, hoping that this change in speed will draw attention away from Foolish as he approaches the rest of the group.

Then, after a few moments of walking at his slow pace, Dream deems that Foolish is far enough away now to not get caught up in his mess, that thought bringing him the smallest bit of comfort that he clings to. 

“Can’t you go any faster?” A voice angrily demands from somewhere behind him, the sound of his voice causing Dream to flinch violently as he tries to remember how to breathe through the sheer terror that’s starting to overcome him. “Fucking hybrids, so stupid.” 

“Say, what’s that under its cloak?” Another human speaks, their words feeling like a death sentence, like a rope that’s steadily wrapping around his throat, killing him slowly but surely.

Even though those words weren’t directly said to him, Dream knows a command when he hears one, causing him to stop walking as he reaches trembling fingers up to unclasp his cloak.

Without his cloak there to help keep his wings pressed close to his back, his wings fan out around him, the black and purple shimmering under the light of the torch held in one of the guard's hands.

“Well I’ll be damned,” The second person mutters in awe as he quickly approaches the dragon hybrid, ignoring the way the hybrid whimpers when he begins touching its wings.

As the other person begins rubbing their greasy hands all over his wings too, Dream squeezes his eyes shut tightly and tries his best to breathe, tries his best to ignore the way he’s shaking like a leaf because he’s so fucking terrified. 

“How much do you think these are worth?” The first person asks as they continue touching all over Dream’s wings, the human’s voice laced with greed as he imagines all the riches this little dragon could make him.

“I’d say at least a stack of diamonds,” Person 2 says in a giddy tone, his hands moving from Dream’s wings to instead feel the scales on his arms, thoughtfully continuing, “I bet even these scales are worth something.”

While hoping that this doesn’t make things even worse, Dream weakly begs, “Please, Sir, don’t take my wings. I’ll be good, you don’t need to take them.”

In a sickeningly sweet tone filled with condescension, the second person places a hand on his shoulder and says, “You do seem very well-behaved, but manners won’t make us rich. A little dragon like you is worth more in parts, you understand that, don’t you?”

And Dream wishes that he didn’t understand, wishes that he could yell and scream that they’re wrong.

But he knows that they’re right.

A pair of wings will always be worth more mounted on a wall…

That doesn’t make it any less painful though.

Despite the way it kills him to admit it, Dream softly says, “Yes, Sir, I understand.”

Then, even though he knows he should keep his mouth shut, Dream can’t help but weakly question, “Can you please just kill me first? I don’t want it to hurt…”

“Tell you what,” the second person says in that same faux-kind tone, his hand stubbornly remaining on Dream’s shoulder as he continues, “We’ll give you a couple of weakness potions, and those will make you so tired that you won’t feel a thing.”

Assuming that that’s about as good as he’ll get, Dream just nods his head while muttering, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Now that that’s settled, come along, Little Dragon,” The person says as he finally moves his hand off of Dream’s shoulder, instead grabbing tightly to his wrist and beginning to pull him down the hallway.

In a daze, Dream follows the two guards, not paying attention to where he’s going, instead just feeling like he’s floating along as he’s dragged toward the room he’ll surely die in.

Eventually, Dream is pulled through a door and brought into a new room that has various sharp tools hanging on the wall and a long table in the center of the room, leather straps attached to the table in order to keep whatever poor victim is trapped there from escaping once they’re underneath the sharp metal of a deadly blade.

As he’s led toward the table, Dream doesn’t fight back at all, just lays down and wordlessly allows his limbs to be locked to the table by the leather straps.

Logically, Dream knows that he should be fighting back, that he should be kicking and screaming so he can keep his precious wings, but, honestly, he’s just so fucking tired.

He already lost Puffy today.

And Foolish.

And Drista.

Why not just let them take fucking everything?

He’s already lost so much, what’s one more thing, right?

Will his family even recognize his corpse after this?

Does he even still have a family?

Maybe they’re already dead…

Maybe he’ll get to see Drista again soon…

That’d be nice…

Dream is pulled from his thoughts by the sound of glass shattering beside him, the harsh noise causing him to flinch, but then his body steadily begins to relax as the weakness potion seeps into his veins.

Slowly, Dream tries to move his hand, but his fingers don’t even so much as twitch, his body refusing to cooperate at all.

Rather than trying to fight the effects of the weakness potion like he has in the past, Dream allows the potion to do its job, his eyes slipping shut as unconsciousness overtakes him, finally allowing him a reprieve from this nightmare. 

Chapter Text

Five Years Ago…

"This place is awful," Sapnap mutters as his eyes dart side to side along the obsidian hallway, goosebumps breaking out along his skin as he imagines being trapped in a place like this the way so many other poor hybrids were.

"It's seriously fucked up," Punz agrees in return, once again feeling just so utterly ashamed of the human race as a whole, part of him wishing that he didn't share the same species as the many humans that seem to enjoy hurting hybrids. "At least we're almost done here though."

"Yeah, but we have to be missing people," Sapnap reluctantly points out with a heavy, frustrated sigh.

Even though they've already cleared out almost this entire building, they've only found about 100 hybrids, and all of them were young boys or men. Not a single female hybrid was anywhere to be found, something that leaves Sapnap with a sick feeling in his gut, certain that so many people must've been ripped apart and separated for them to have only found who they did.

"We'll find them," Punz reassures Sapnap, hating the deep frown on his friend's face. "If not today, then we'll find the rest another day."

"I hope you're right…" Sapnap breathes out with a heavy sigh, truly hoping that, soon, they'll be able to find the rest of the missing hybrids.

After saying that, the two of them fall into silence, the only sound being their footsteps echoing off the obsidian surrounding them, an uncomfortable and nauseating sensation filling Sapnap’s stomach the longer they travel, especially when they occasionally come across pools of blood.

When Sapnap woke up this morning, never in a million years would he have thought that he’d end up here. At first, when word reached Kinoko Kingdom of what Schlatt was doing to the hybrids in his nation, Sapnap couldn’t believe it, certain that their messenger had to be mistaken. He knows that, in most parts of the world, hybrids aren’t treated fairly, but sometimes it’s hard to forget that when he and George built Kinoko Kingdom from the ground up in order to create a safe place for hybrids. But every drop of blood shed today, every terrified hybrid they’ve rescued so far from this hell is a reminder that humans fucking suck. Some of them, like George and Punz, are good, but as far as Sapnap’s concerned, all the other humans he’s met can go burn in hell.

Sapnap is pulled from his thoughts of plotting the demise of the human race when Punz says while pointing at several iron doors that line the obsidian walls, “We should probably check in all these rooms, make sure no one’s in any of them.”

“Got it,” Sapnap replies as he starts making his way toward the first door, his netherite sword clutched tightly in his hand.

When Sapnap feels a hand snake around his wrist, preventing him from approaching the door, he shoots Punz a confused, questioning look, causing the human to gently explain, “We don’t know what’s in there, so let me go first, yeah? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

With a frustrated sigh, Sapnap wrenches his arm out of Punz’s hold, part of him wanting to storm into the room regardless, but he just barely manages to hold back, knowing that, if there really is something bad in there, he’ll never hear the end of ‘I told you so’ from Punz. 

As Punz presses the button on the wall beside the iron door, causing the rusty hinges to make it swing open, Sapnap leans up against the wall a little ways away, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep out the chill that the obsidian behind him creates.

“Fuck,” Punz mutters under his breath as his dark blue eyes widen in horror and alarm, his stomach flip-flopping uncomfortably as he takes in the scene in front of him.

“What?” Sapnap worriedly questions, pushing himself off the wall to go see whatever it is that’s making Punz sound so… frightened.

“D-Don’t come over here,” Punz manages to warn as he rapidly backs out of the room, his hands trembling as he presses the button to close the iron door again.

After a few moments of just watching Punz, seeing how terribly pale the man looks now, Sapnap hesitantly questions, “What was in there?”

Punz is silent for a long time, long enough that Sapnap thinks he might not answer.

But, finally, the man says through gritted teeth, “There was someone in there. I don’t know what kind of hybrid he even was, those sick fucks cut him to pieces.”

“Oh…” Sapnap whispers as he squeezes his eyes shut against the threat of tears, unsure what to say in the face of something so utterly terrible.

Then, as a sudden wave of fury rushes over him, Sapnap screams at the top of his lungs, “I want Schlatt dead! I’ll fucking kill him!”

“You and me both, Sap,” Punz agrees as he places a hand on Sapnap’s shoulder, ignoring the way the blaze hybrid’s skin burns his hand the slightest bit, his flames threatening to come out as he gets angrier. “I’m gonna check if anyone’s still alive in any of these rooms. Why don’t you take a seat, alright?”

Slowly, Sapnap nods his head, then he leans back against the wall and slides down to the floor, fiddling with his sword as he imagines ramming the blade through Schlatt’s cruel heart.

As Sapnap imagines more and more creative ways to kill the emperor, Punz makes his way from room to room, his heart clenching painfully at the state of each hybrid he sees, carefully pressing two fingers to each of their necks to check for a pulse, even though the amount of blood covering the table and floor clearly shows that they’re dead.

In the eighth room, Punz continues with his routine, gently pressing his fingers to this hybrid’s neck to check for a pulse, but certain that there won’t be one.

“Holy shit,” Punz whispers in shock as he feels a faintly fluttering pulse underneath his fingers, a quick check of the hybrid’s wrist confirming that they’re actually still alive, even if it won’t be for much longer.

“Sapnap, get in here!” Punz shouts as he begins quickly taking his medical equipment out of his inventory, quickly assessing the hybrid for whatever injury is bleeding the most so he can stitch it.

Without hesitation, Sapnap jumps to his feet and makes his way to the room Punz is in, his heart hammering in his chest as he wonders what might be inside, certain that it won’t be anything good.

When Sapnap does open the iron door, he finds himself frozen in the entryway, his blood running colu

Strapped to a table is a hybrid who looks to be about his age, dirty blonde hair fanning a face of deathly pale features, that sheet-white skin tone paired with the fact that the hybrid is absolutely drenched in blood making him look like a corpse. 

Even though Sapnap isn’t sure how the hybrid could even be alive after losing that much blood--fuck, there’s so much blood, everywhere he looks is just red red red red --Sapnap knows that the boy must be alive by the way Punz is quickly stitching up a wound on the hybrid’s back.

“What do you need me to do?” Sapnap weakly questions as he continues watching Punz try to save the hybrid’s life, continues watching as Punz’s steady hands are rapidly coated in the blood of the poor hybrid strapped to the table.

“Take these bandages and use your bucket of water to start cleaning him, it’s hard for me to tell where else he’s hurt with all this blood,” Punz says in a clipped tone, hardly paying Sapnap any mind, all of his attention on trying to save the battered hybrid.

Wordlessly, Sapnap grabs a few bandages off of Punz’s lap and takes his water bucket out of his inventory, using shaky hands to dip one into the water before gently rubbing it over the hybrid’s skin, starting with the arm that’s closest to him and working his way down.

After a while of working in tense silence, Sapnap cautiously asks, “What kind of hybrid do you think he is?”

For a few moments, Punz doesn’t respond, simply focusing on making the last stitch and then tying off the remaining thread so none of his hard work will be undone if the hybrid wakes up in a panic. 

Finally, Punz says in an emotionless tone, “He’s some kind of winged hybrid. The wound I just stitched up is right in the spot where wings normally are. Now that his arms are clean, I can see a bunch of circular cuts traveling from his hand all the way up his forearm, so I’m guessing those were scales. And that webbing between his fingers looks very reptilian. There’s only one reptile with wings I can think of…”

“He’s an ender dragon,” Sapnap hollowly finishes Punz’s train of thought, a cold numbness settling into his bones at the thought of this boy, this dragon, being reduced to a near-corpse strapped down with skin painted red from his own blood.

Punz doesn’t say anything more, having nothing left to say, not when they both already know the terrible truth, not when they both know that, if he survives, this dragon will never be able to fly again.

As melancholy hangs heavily in the air, Punz begins stitching another wound, this one just above the hem of the hybrid’s pants, the location telling him that there must’ve been a tail there earlier today, but now that appendage is gone, just like so much else.

Once the hybrid boy is about as clean as he’ll get in a place splattered with blood, Sapnap grabs another clean bandage from the pile Punz has and begins carefully wrapping up the dragon’s arms, trying to get the places where his scales used to be to stop bleeding.

Sometime later, Punz finishes stitching where the boy’s tail and wings used to be, taking care of the two major injuries that caused him to lose so much blood.

“Let’s get him out of here so I can give him a healing pot,” Punz murmurs as he pulls out his sword to begin cutting through the leather straps that keep the dragon trapped up against the table.

Without a word, Sapnap begins following Punz’s lead, carefully freeing trapped wrists using his sword, his heart feeling terribly heavy in his chest the longer he looks at the poor boy in front of him, this situation getting so much worse the more he thinks about how close they are in age, how easily it could’ve been him in this position instead. 

But before Sapnap can begin to travel so deep into that line of thought that he drowns in it, Punz carefully lifts the hybrid off the table, scooping the boy into his arms as he suggests, “How about you go out to the others we found and bring them to the horses so we can take them all home?”

“What about you?” Sapnap nervously questions, certainly wanting to get out of this terrible place, but he can’t help but worry that Punz wouldn’t be able to defend himself and the hybrid if more of Schlatt’s guards suddenly arrive.

“I need to sit in the hallway for a bit so I can give him a potion, but I’ll join you after,” Punz says in a firm tone that leaves no room for argument, knowing that, even if Sapnap wants to help still, there isn’t much more he can do, not when his first-aid knowledge is practically non-existent compared to Punz, who’s one of the best medics Kinoko Kingdom has.

Even though part of him wants to protest, wants to demand that he stays so he can help protect the two, Sapnap nods his head and begins making his way toward the exit, knowing that someone does need to make sure all of the hybrids they found safely make it back to Kinoko.

Before turning the corner and leaving Punz’s line of sight, Sapnap turns around and gives his friend a weak smile while calling out, “Stay safe.”

“You too,” Punz replies with a tight smile of his own, feeling a weight come free from his chest when Sapnap leaves.

With a heavy, exhausted sigh, Punz gingerly lowers himself onto the ground out in the hallway, carefully cradling the hybrid to his chest while doing so.

For a few moments, Punz just looks down at the hybrid boy who’s now under his care, tenderly brushing the hair out of the dragon’s face while promising, “You’re safe now, Kid. I promise I’m not like the humans that hurt you. I’ll protect you.”

And even though he’s known this boy for only five minutes, even though he doesn’t even know the dragon’s name yet, Punz means every word.

He wasn’t able to keep this poor hybrid from losing such a big part of himself, but he’ll be damned if he ever lets anyone touch this kid again. 

Chapter Text

Five Years Ago...

Left. Right.

Left. Right.

Left. Right.

Foolish can't help but pace restlessly from where he stands outside, just one of many hybrids who have been rescued from the dark, ominous obsidian building that looms beside them. 

Their saviors--a blaze-hybrid and a human that he can't possibly remember the names of in his panicked state--went back inside to look for any last survivors before they all leave for Kinoko Kingdom.

All around them, hybrids hold their loved ones close, clutching to each other desperately due to the fear of being separated again.

But Foolish does no such thing, just keeps pacing back and forth as he desperately hopes that the two will find Dream.

Because almost 200 hybrids went into that building, and all but ten have come out already.

And Dream, his older brother, the last person he has left, is one of them.

He's checked, double and triple checked, but Dream isn't here.

And if their rescuers don't come back with Dream, Foolish will have to go back into that terrifying building and find Dream himself.

He fucked up by walking away and leaving Dream all alone, and that's not a mistake he'll make a second time.

After what feels like an eternity, the blaze-hybrid returns, the young man standing in front of the crowd of hybrids as he calls out, "Everyone follow me, let's get you out of here."

For a few moments, Foolish just stares at the hybrid in a strange state of numb horror, that feeling increasing to full-blown dread when he realizes that the blaze's hands are coated in dried, flaky blood.

That… That's… Prime, that could be Dream's blood…

And upon having that thought, Foolish begins sprinting toward the direction of the building, ignoring the shouts of startled hybrids as he desperately hopes that he isn't too late, that Dream isn't dead.

Without any rational thought, Foolish rushes through the dark, damp tunnels and obsidian hallways, tears stinging his eyes as he continues to run and run and run without any sign of his older brother.

And then suddenly he rounds another corner and comes face to face with two figures sitting in the hallway with their backs leaning against the wall.

For the briefest of moments, Foolish glances at the first person, recognizing the human to be one of their rescuers.

But that doesn't matter when the person in their arms is Dream, looking terribly fragile in clothes drenched with his own blood.

Foolish doesn't even think.

Doesn't even think of the consequences.

Doesn't even think of what could happen if he reveals himself. 

Instead, he approaches the two, raising one of his hands in the direction of the human and growls in a tone laced with power and promises of pain, "Let go of my brother."

Punz's head instantly snaps up toward the sound of that voice, staring at the small, cloaked figure in front of him.

Despite those words sounding threatening, the boy's voice is decidedly young, leaving Punz to guess that he's barely even a teenager.

But that doesn't matter, not when the boy absolutely radiates power.

When Punz doesn't move away from Dream, Foolish grows even more livid, his hand clenching into a fist as he harshly states, "You have five seconds to let go of him before I kill you."

Punz doesn't doubt those words for a single second, not when the air around them feels charged like electricity, the hairs on his arms and legs beginning to stand on end from the way everything around them crackles with energy, much like when a wicked thunderstorm is about to roll in.

So, without hesitation, Punz raises the hand that isn't holding the dragon hybrid in an unthreatening manner, exclaiming in a panicked rush, "He's hurt! If I let him go, it'll tear the stitches!"

"Stitches?" Foolish echoes in a much weaker tone as his raised hand drops to his side, as if he's a puppet whose strings have just been cut, giving him no control over his own body.

As everything feels like it's in slow motion, Foolish moves his gaze from the human, instead taking a closer look at Dream.

When he saw the blood on his brother's clothes, all he could think was that he needed to kill this human, because surely that's the person who made Dream bleed.

But he never thought of why Dream might be bleeding, not until the human mentioned Dream needing stitches. 

And what he finally does see…

Sick doesn't even begin to cover the feeling.

Because Dream doesn't look anything like Dream, doesn't look anything like the strong dragon he knows.

He doesn't even look like a dragon anymore, not with his elaborate horns being reduced to stubs, not when his little tail no longer peeks out of the hem of his pants.

And certainly not when he has no wings.

Dream's wings are gone. 

After having that thought, Foolish suddenly finds himself weightless, his legs buckling beneath him as he sinks to his knees, promptly curling toward the ground as he begins to retch violently, his hands trembling uncontrollably as he clutches his aching stomach.

"I'm so sorry, Kid," Punz whispers as he holds the dragon hybrid a little closer to his chest, wishing with all his heart that he could've saved these two kids from all this pain.

After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand to clear away all the remaining sickness, Foolish shakily rises to his feet, only to drop down to the ground again once he's beside Dream. 

With more gentleness than ever before, Foolish places a hand on Dream's face, sitting up taller so he can press his forehead to Dream's and whispers, "I'm so sorry. I could've kept this from happening and I didn't. I hope you can forgive me someday."

After awkwardly clearing his throat, knowing that he's impending on a private moment, Punz can't help but point out, "Kid, I don't think there's anything you could've done to keep this from happening. I know it sucks, but you can't blame yourself."

"But I could've stopped it," Foolish murmurs brokenly as he pulls back from Dream, looking at Punz with eyes full of anguish as he continues, "I could've killed Schlatt and all his guards, I know I could've. And then I wouldn't have lost mom and Drista and Dream would still have his wings."

"Then why didn't you?" Punz gently questions, knowing that, for however powerful this kid may think he is, he's still just that: a kid.

"I… I was scared," Foolish admits with a bitter laugh after a few moments of hesitation, as if he's ashamed of feeling afraid when truly terrifying things have been done today. "I know I could've killed them all, but I didn't know who would get caught in the crossfire. Sometimes the storms have a mind of their own, and I didn't want my family to get hurt. What good that did though."

"Sounds to me like you made the right choice," Punz says in a thoughtful, encouraging tone after a few moments of thinking about what the boy said, his words causing Foolish to look at him with surprise and confusion on his face.

"What do you mean?" Foolish hesitantly questions, certainly not feeling like he made the right decision, not when Dream lost his wings because he didn't try to save his brother. 

"What happened today was awful, but it could've been worse," Punz carefully begins to explain, not wanting to share too much with a kid who must be traumatized enough already, but also not able to let the boy blame himself for any of this. "Only about 20 hybrids died today. And while that's awful and I wish it hadn't happened, that number is low compared to the amount that survived. If you had tried to kill Schlatt and his guards, that number would probably be a lot higher, wouldn't it?"

Reluctantly, Foolish nods his head in agreement.

With a grimace, Punz finishes by asking, "I think it's probably better to blame yourself for doing nothing at all than to blame yourself for accidentally killing innocent hybrids, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Foolish agrees after a long stretch of silence, having not thought of it like that, but he knows that the human is right.

Even though he hates this, even though he doesn't know how he'll ever be able to look at Dream again without feeling like he should've done more, he's realizing that using his hybrid abilities could have made everything worse.

Dream might be hurt, he might never fully recover from this, but at least he's alive.

If Foolish had tried to kill the guards to protect him, he might've killed Dream as well.

He could've killed everyone as well.

He was too young to remember how many he killed the first time he called upon the clouds and rained lightning down on the world around him, but he knows that none of those people survived.

For hundreds of blocks in every direction, the land turned into a crater, everything charred and blackened by his own hands.

And that's how Puffy found him, a four-year-old surrounded by the world he destroyed with no idea what to do now that he was no longer being hunted down for his power that's unlike anything else. 

While he likes to think that he has better control now, he hasn't actually confirmed that, too terrified of hurting the people he loves to ever consider using his powers again.

And in this case, the decision to not use his powers still led to Dream getting hurt, but at least he's alive.

So, while sighing heavily in hopes of releasing some of the crushing guilt he still feels, Foolish hesitantly questions, "Can we get out of here? I don't want to stay in this place anymore."

"Of course, Kid," Punz replies with a sympathetic smile, pulling a health potion out of his inventory as he continues, "We can leave right after I give your brother another health pot. I gave him one right after we found him, but he needs another so we can move him without having to worry about reopening his stitches."

As Punz begins carefully coaxing the potion down Dream's throat, making sure to go slow enough that the unconscious dragon won't choke, Foolish suddenly blurts out, "My name's Foolish. And I'm 14, you don't have to keep calling me a kid."

Rather than pointing out that 14 is very much still a kid, especially when Punz is 20, he instead introduces himself with a soft, "Hey, Foolish. I'm Punz."

"Y'know, you're the first human I've met that I haven't wanted to kill. Well, other than when I first saw you with my brother," Foolish says with the slightest hint of a smirk, trying to lighten up the suffocating atmosphere in here and feeling accomplished when his words make Punz chuckle softly.

"Thanks?" Punz questions with a small smile, his words causing Foolish to snort, that sound in turn making Punz smile widely, thankful that he can help this kid feel even the slightest bit better.

Once he's finished giving the dragon hybrid the last of the health pot, Punz carefully rises to his feet while holding the boy close to his chest, nodding his head to Foolish as he says, "Come on, let's get you two someplace safe."

"Where are we going?" Foolish hesitantly questions as he begins following Punz through the dark hallways, his eyes darting around nervously as they walk, terrified of one of Schlatt's guards jumping out from the shadows to hurt his brother some more. 

"Kinoko Kingdom Palace," Punz replies with a fond smile, having never thought that he'd find his home living with a bunch of hybrids, but the past four years he's spent in Kinoko have been the best of his life. "You two will like it there, I promise. I'm one of the only humans there, it's meant to be a place where hybrids can go to escape the things that've hurt them."

"That sounds nice," Foolish murmurs sincerely after a few moments of trying to imagine such a place, wondering if maybe he could even go to school there, something that he's always wanted to do but his mom never thought it was safe enough.

"Yeah, it is nice," Punz agrees with his smile still in place, making a silent vow to himself then and there that he's going to make Kinoko as nice as possible for both these kids.

These kids might have had a shitty past, but Punz is gonna help them have a good future, that's for damn sure.

Chapter Text

Five Years Ago...

It's been six days.

Six days since Foolish's life was forever changed. 

Six days since he watched their entire village burn down.

Six days since he last saw his mom and little sister.

Six days that Dream has spent unconscious.

Medics have been in and out Dream’s infirmary room all throughout the day, all of them poking and prodding at him in order to inject tubes and medicines that Foolish can't even begin to understand the meaning of.

Punz has stayed by his brother's side without relent, that way he can ensure that Dream stays alive and gets all the proper nutrients he needs from the IV drip since he hasn't woken up in so long.

And Foolish?

He can barely spend more than a minute or two in Dream's room.

Because when he looks at the pale figure lying in bed, when he sees all the tubes and machines connected to him to monitor his condition, Foolish doesn't see Dream.

He sees someone who looks fragile and broken, two things that Dream has never been.

And despite Punz's constant assurances that he isn't to blame for this, Foolish feels a crushing, suffocating guilt any time he so much as looks at Dream.

The person he’s always associated with strength and safety is now someone that he can't even stand to be around for a handful of minutes.

It's fucked up.

Foolish knows that he should be here for Dream, especially since his brother will be hurting so much when he wakes up, but Foolish doesn't think he can.

Looking at Dream is a constant reminder of all the pain that occurred on that day, all the pain that he could have prevented if he hadn't been too scared to step in and do something.

It hurts to so much as look at Dream, and he can't even imagine how much worse it's going to be when Dream finally wakes up and realizes that his wings are gone.

It's terrible and awful and so fucking selfish, but Foolish can't watch Dream go through that.

He already feels like he's just barely hanging on by a single thread, and he's sure that witnessing that will be what finally causes it to snap and make him break.

So, while releasing a heavy sigh to steel himself, Foolish pushes open the door to Dream's room, knowing that Punz will be in there, taking care of Dream in ways that Foolish wishes that he could.

Without greeting Punz, Foolish bluntly states, "I want to leave."

For a few moments, Punz just blinks at Foolish in surprise, not expecting that to be something the boy wanted, at least not after Dream wakes up.

In a judgment-free tone, Punz curiously questions, "Where do you want to go?"

"Sapnap was telling me about one of the little towns in Kinoko," Foolish replies in a soft, wistful tone, having wanted to go to this place the moment Sapnap started talking about it. "He said that there's a really great school there, and I want to go. I've never been to school before, my mom said it wasn't safe because I'm a hybrid. But everyone here's a hybrid, and I've never had any friends before and I really want to go-"

"Kid, you don't have to explain yourself, not to me," Punz gently interrupts Foolish's rambling, giving the kid a reassuring smile as he continues in an encouraging tone, "If you really want to go, we can have you there as soon as tomorrow."

"Really?" Foolish questions with wide, hopeful eyes, nearly bouncing with excitement at the thought of actually going to school and meeting people his age.

"Of course," Punz instantly agrees with his smile still in place, his words causing Foolish to grin uncontrollably.

But his happy smile disappears when Punz continues with a hesitant, "If Dream doesn't wake up before you leave, I really think you should write him a letter telling him where you'll be and why you left. I'd hate for him to wake up and panic because he thinks you're hurt."

For a long, long time, Foolish doesn't say anything.

He knows that Dream deserves it, deserves to know why Foolish is leaving, especially since he’s done nothing to deserve being left behind by his own brother.

But at the same time, he knows that finding the right words is going to be terrible. 

How can he find the words to tell Dream that he's the reason why he no longer has wings, that because of Foolish his brother will never fly again?

How can he explain to Dream that mom and Drista are still missing, that they might never get to see them again?

Hesitantly, Punz breaks the uncomfortable silence settling over them by softly saying, “You don’t have to write anything you don’t want to. Just let him know that you’re safe and that you left because you want to go to school and make friends, maybe invite him to join you if he wants to. That’s it, I’ll take care of all the rest.”

“Thank you,” Foolish breathes out with a relieved sigh as he moves to sit on the bed beside Punz, pulling the man into a tight hug as he continues in a whisper, “You’re a good person, Punz. I know you’ll take good care of Dream.”

“Thanks, Kid,” Punz murmurs with a fond smile, returning the hug and holding Foolish close, his heart swelling with happiness at the knowledge that Foolish trusts him. “Make sure you give me the letter and say goodbye before you leave, alright?”

“I will,” Foolish promises as he pulls back from their hug, giving Punz a wave before walking toward the door and exiting the room.

After a few moments of just looking at the door that Foolish left out of, Punz turns back to Dream, checking the man’s pulse for what feels like the thousandth time, thankful to feel it steady beneath his fingers.

Dream’s in stable condition, so now it’s just a matter of when the dragon hybrid feels ready to wake up and return to the world that hurt him so badly.

It’s nearly a week and a half before Dream finally wakes up.

When Punz hears the soft, hitched inhale come from the prone figure on the bed beside him, he almost thinks he’s imagining things.

But that shaky breath is soon accompanied by a low groan, the sound somewhat muffled and distorted from the oxygen mask around Dream’s mouth.

Carefully, he takes off the mask, knowing that Dream will be able to breathe for himself now that he’s finally awake. 

“Come on, Dream, wake up,” Punz says in a gentle, encouraging tone as he gently begins carding a hand through Dream’s messy hair.

It takes a few moments, but Punz is met with a pair of emerald green eyes, his gaze so full of pain, but the sight is still beautiful after so long of hoping that the dragon would finally wake up.

“Hi there,” Punz says with a wide smile, still continuing to gently run his fingers through Dream’s hair to help him stay calm. “I’m Punz and I'm a medic.”

“H-Hey,” Dream croaks in a weak tone, his voice cracking terribly from disuse, the sound of his rough voice causing both of them to wince.

“Here, drink some water,” Punz says as he pulls a water bottle from his inventory, carefully guiding it to Dream’s lips and helping the man drink about a third of the bottle before pulling it away so he doesn’t have too much at once. 

When Dream doesn’t begin asking questions like Punz thought he would, Punz takes the initiative and begins explaining, “I’m sure you’re confused right now, and that’s okay. You were rescued and brought to Kinoko Kingdom Palace 10 days ago. This is a safe place for hybrids, and you're in one of the infirmary rooms right now. You’ve been unconscious for a long time, so it’s real nice to see you awake.”

“Oh,” Is all Dream softly murmurs in a surprised tone, his exhausted, pain-filled brain not really processing those words, just understanding that he slept for a while in someplace safe.

“You brother Foolish is safe too,” Punz continues, and those words are what finally get a reaction out of Dream.

“Where is he?!” Dream demands in a raised voice, trying to push his arms underneath him so he can lift himself out of bed, but he’s stopped by Punz placing a firm hand on his chest.

“Calm down, he’s okay, I promise,” Punz hurriedly reassures Dream, not wanting the dragon to hurt himself even more than he’s already been. “He wrote you a couple of letters to let you know that he’s safe. Would you like to see them?”

Instantly, Dream nods his head a little frantically, needing to know that Foolish is actually safe, needing to know that he succeeded in keeping Foolish from being noticed by any of Schlatt’s guards.

Punz pulls two letters out of his inventory, handing them to Dream and helping the man sit up a little more so he can read them.

Hi Dream. It’s me, Foolish. Wow this is really hard to write. First I need you to know that I’m safe. And so are you. I know Punz is a human, but he’s a good guy. You can trust him. He’s been taking really good care of you. Anyways I’m safe. I’m living in a little town in Kinoko. Sapnap (one of the hybrids who rescued us) told me about the school they have here and I wanted to go. They have buildings on the school campus that you can live in, so that’s where I am now. Mom always said that I couldn’t go to school because it was too dangerous, but this school is only for hybrids so I’m safe here. I’m sorry for leaving you. Maybe when you’re feeling better you can come visit me.

“I’m glad he’s going to school,” Dream whispers in a low voice choked with emotion, truly happy that Foolish is going to school, especially since his little brother would always get so excited whenever he taught the boy something new. “He’s always wanted to go there.”

“Yeah, he seemed really excited,” Punz confirms with a small smile, his words causing Dream to smile the slightest bit.

After a few moments of just looking over the first letter, Dream turns his attention to the second one, his smile growing a little wider as he reads it:

Dream! My new roommate here is awesome! His name is Sam and he’s so good at building. He’s been teaching me how to build all kinds of things. He even knows how to do redstone! Isn’t that crazy?! But yeah he’s seriously awesome. I can’t wait for you to meet him. And school’s been great so far! All my teachers are super nice, I really like them! Are you doing okay? I hope you’re awake by now… Will you write me back when you are? Love you Dream. And I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened.

“Sounds like he’s made a new friend,” Dream whispers as tears rush to his eyes, feeling so incredibly happy that Foolish is finally getting to live the life he’s wanted to.

It fucking sucks that it took all this so Foolish could go to school and make friends, but Dream is glad that his little brother is finally getting the chance to be a kid.

“He definitely has,” Punz says with a chuckle, thinking of how excited Foolish sounds in that letter. “I’ve met Sam before, he’s a good kid. He’ll keep Foolish out of trouble.”

“That’s good,” Dream softly says, a sad, faraway look entering his gaze as he continues in a whisper, “I’m glad at least one of us gets to be happy.”

“Dream-” Punz starts to say in a concerned tone, but he doesn’t even get the chance to properly start before he’s interrupted.

“I need to go outside,” Dream says in a firm tone that leaves no room for arguing, his words sounding a bit more frantic as he continues, “I need to go. I gotta fly so I can clear my head.”

“You’re still hurt-” Punz tries to protest, doing his best not to grimace over Dream saying that he wants to go out flying, something that he’ll never be able to do again.

“Take this shit off me or I’m ripping it out myself,” Dream growls as his hand closes over the tube from the IV that’s connected to his arm, seconds away from just yanking it out, consequences be damned.

“Okay, okay, I’ll take it off you,” Punz hurriedly says as he stands up to go to Dream’s other side, not wanting the man to lose even more blood from ripping out his IV.

Once he’s no longer attached to any machines, Dream quickly stumbles to his feet, his legs feeling so unsteady that he ends up careening into the wall, his shoulder lighting up with pain at the harsh impact.

Instantly, Punz tries grabbing his arms to steady him, but he pulls his hands back when Dream growls in a low, threatening tone, “Get the fuck away from me.”

“I only want to help,” Punz earnestly says as he raises his hands in surrender.

“You can help by telling me how to get outside,” Dream replies through gritted teeth from the pain he feels, shakily making his way to the door.

While sighing heavily, realizing that Foolish wasn’t kidding when he said that Dream was stubborn, Punz gives him directions to get outside to the Palace garden.

Before Dream can leave his sight though, Punz hesitantly questions, “Are you sure I can’t help you get outside?”

His only response is Dream holding his middle finger high up in the air, afterward rounding the corner and disappearing from view. 

“I’ll take that as a no then,” Punz bitterly mutters under his breath as he walks back into the infirmary room that Dream had been occupying, turning off the machines that monitored Dream’s condition and kept him alive, knowing that the dragon will be able to move into one of the regular bedrooms in the Palace now that he’s awake. 

Once the room’s all taken care of, Punz makes his way to his own bedroom in the Palace, having not slept in his own bed ever since Dream came, worried that the dragon would slip into critical condition the moment he wasn’t there to watch over Dream and keep him alive.

Now though, Punz practically collapses into bed, his last thought before drifting off to sleep being the hope that Dream will be okay outside on his own.

Chapter Text

Five Years Ago…

On unsteady, trembling legs, Dream makes his way outside of this new place he's found himself in--he hasn't yet been able to wrap his mind around the fact that he's in Kinoko Kingdom, that he was brought to an honest to prime Palace--hardly paying any mind to his surroundings until he reaches the doors leading outside. 

The second he smells the crisp, fresh air of the early morning, the tension drops from his limbs, especially since it's so unlike the stifling obsidian that had recently trapped him and so many others.

While forcefully pushing that thought from his mind, Dream begins walking through the garden, trying to ignore the way his feet drag with every step, that fatigue telling him that he really shouldn't be up and about right now. 

He wants more than anything to fly right now, but considering the fact that he can hardly even walk, Dream knows what a terrible idea that would be. Yeah, he'd rather not break all his bones from passing out and falling out of the sky, no thank you. 

So instead he walks--more like stumbles--around, smiling ever so slightly as he watches butterflies flutter around the numerous flowers surrounding him.

Soon, Dream can't keep walking, instead settling down against a little brick wall that separates the tulips from the oxeye daisies. 

For a few moments, he just sits there, resting his left side against the wall as he looks out at the world around him.

And then he suddenly can't see the world around him very clearly, everything becoming just a blur of colors as tears cloud his vision.

"Fuck," Dream mutters under his breath as he angrily wipes away his tears with shaking fingers, but more and more just keep coming.

And soon enough, a few tears turns into harsh sobs that cause his whole body to tremble like a fragile leaf caught in a wicked storm.

While crying violently, Dream curls into a little ball, wrapping his arms around himself tightly in a pathetic excuse for a hug, wishing that he could just wrap his arms around Drista instead.

He misses his little sister so much.

For the first time in his life, he's completely and utterly alone.

Even when they lived in that shitty orphanage, Dream always had his little sister. Maybe he wouldn't see her for a couple of hours throughout the day but, without fail, every night he'd drift off to sleep by her side. 

She's been the one constant in his life.

And now she's gone.

He might never get to see her again.

That thought makes him cry even harder, his sobs so violent that he can barely even gasp in a breath after each one, his chest beginning to ache from lack of oxygen, but he can't seem to stop the tears, not when he knows that he might never get to watch his little sister grow up. 

Before Dream can begin to think of all the milestones of Drista's life that he might never get to see now, he hears a timid voice question over the sound of his own sobs: Hey, uh, you good?

Dream doesn't respond, too busy focusing his attention on trying to remember how to breathe, something that's becoming increasingly more difficult as time goes on.

Stupid question, of course he's not okay, he's literally crying. That same voice mutters to themself in a self-deprecating tone, their voice growing a bit louder and more panicked as they continue: Come on Ranboo, do something.

It takes a bit longer than it should, but Dream suddenly realizes that, while he can understand this person, they aren't speaking common.

They're speaking Ender, the native language to him and a handful of others, the sound of it hitting him with a sudden jolt of homesickness for a place he's never known.

He's never been to the End, but the moment he heard this person speak, he could imagine himself soaring through the End City, or perhaps settling down on one of the many islands and just looking out at the mesmerizing, neverending void. 

Before Dream can try to guess what type of End hybrid this person might be, he suddenly feels long, lanky arms wrap around him, pulling him against a comforting chest.

Instantly, Dream latches onto this person like a lifeline, clutching tightly to their back as the tears and sobs continue to wrack his body.

Eventually though, feeling soothed by the gentle touch of being held by someone, Dream's tears come to an end.

"I'm, um, sorry about all that," Dream murmurs in a low, embarrassed tone, keeping his face firmly buried against this person's chest, too ashamed of his breakdown to look up at this stranger that he just cried all over. "I've had a pretty shit day."

In response, the person simply releases a low, comforting vwoop, that sound instantly making Dream relax in their arms, feelings of safety and belonging filling him as he sits with this enderman.

While he's never met an enderman before, he instantly knows that sound, something deep inside of him singing with joy as he sits with one of his own kind.

This person might not be a dragon like him, but they're a being of the End, and that alone makes the two of them closer to one another than anyone else could even imagine.

It's like meeting a long lost friend, one who you haven't seen in forever yet you can pick back up right where you left off, as if no time at all has passed. 

"What's your name?" Dream curiously asks the enderman after a few moments of silence, finding himself feeling calmer and calmer the longer he sits with them.

Ranboo. The enderman softly says, a strange amount of hesitation in his voice despite only being asked for his name.

"I'm Dream," he says with a barely-there smile. "It's nice to meet you, Ranboo."

Wait, you understand me?! Ranboo exclaims in a loud, bewildered tone, seeming like he absolutely can't believe that someone is able to understand Ender.

"Well yeah, I should hope so, I'm an ender dragon after all," Dream teases with a smirk, wondering why Ranboo is so surprised that a literal ender dragon understands Ender. "I don't ever really speak in Ender, but I understand it well enough to talk to you."

You're an ender dragon? Ranboo asks in a soft, careful tone, as though he's scared of the answer. 

"Obviously," Dream continues in that same teasing tone, unable to bite back a scoff at the thought of Ranboo being an enderman who doesn't know what an ender dragon looks like. "I've got the wings and everything."

Then, to prove his point, Dream spreads his wings out behind him.

Or at least he tries to, but his wings don't respond.

In fact, he can't even feel them anymore.

While his body feels terribly numb from all the painkillers they must have him hopped up on, Dream knows that he should at least be able to feel his wings.

So why the fuck can't he feel them anymore?!

Dream… Ranboo slowly starts to say, but he trails off there, unsure how to explain Dream that he clearly doesn't have dragon wings. 

"W-Why can't I feel my wings?" Dream weakly questions just above a whisper, desperately hoping that this is all just some cruel, twisted joke, that he simply can't feel his wings because those painkillers are so fucking amazing that they've numbed even his wings.

Well, um, you see, you don't actually… have any. Ranboo nervously says, hesitantly placing a hand on Dream's back, resting it right over the spot where his wings should be, but there's nothing there.

There's nothing there.

Nothing at all.

His wings are gone.

And upon having that thought, memories suddenly come rushing back to him.

Telling Foolish to go up ahead so he wouldn't be noticed, the feeling of filthy hands rubbing across his wings, the memory of being strapped down to a table so they could take his wings.

He just assumed that, since he was rescued, that meant all of him was rescued.

Dream? Ranboo worriedly questions, not liking how still and silent Dream is, not when he expected him to scream and cry over the loss of something so precious. 

"I've got nothing left," Dream mutters in a low, broken tone, his voice hollow and lifeless, sounding as though a part of him died alongside his beautiful wings. 

You have me. But, uh, only if you want. No pressure or anything. Ranboo points out in a gentle yet clumsy manner after a few moments of hesitation, releasing a sad vwoop when Dream presses his face more firmly against Ranboo's chest, as if he's trying to hide away from the cruel world around him. 

"Don't leave me too," Dream whispers in a pleading tone, not even knowing what this enderman looks like because he's unable to find the strength to lift his head to even do that, but he does know that, if Ranboo leaves him alone right now, it'll be very, very bad.

Right now, Ranboo's arms are the only things holding him together, and without those, he's sure he'll break.

I'm not going anywhere, promise. Ranboo hurriedly reassures him, his voice sounding a little bitter as he continues: It's been a really long time since I've talked to someone like this. I'm not leaving unless you make me.

At that, Dream releases a weak huff of laughter that sounds closer to a sob, but it makes Ranboo smile sadly nonetheless.

Dream doesn't respond to Ranboo's words, at least not verbally. Instead, he just holds the enderman a bit tighter, so thankful that he's here right now.

For a long, long while, the two of them just sit wrapped up in each other's embrace, Dream just holding Ranboo close as he silently processes through the momentous grief he feels.

He doesn't shed anymore tears, partly because he already cried so much earlier, partly because a sort of numbness has settled over him from the realization that he'll never fly again.

He'll never get to soar above the clouds, his only companion the wind whipping through his hair, tousling the dirty-blonde locks.

He'll never get to nervously hover right behind Drista as he teaches her how to fly. 

He'll never get to wrap his wings around someone as he hugs them, cocooning them both in the warmth and safety his wings provide.

Despite the heavy sadness and grief that clings to him like a thick fog, he doesn't regret it. 

When Foolish was panicking back in those tunnels, Dream knew the danger of stopping to comfort his little brother. He knew that stopping would put him in the back where his wings would easily be noticed. If he wanted to, he could've kept walking, could've prioritized keeping himself safe over a boy that he's known for only a year. But in that short time, Foolish has become his family, his baby brother.

So no, he doesn't regret it. 

He doesn't regret staying behind so Foolish could remain safe and unnoticed, even at the cost of his precious wings.

His wings may be gone, but the trade-off is that his little brother is alive and well, his little brother is able to go to school and meet friends and live the life he's always dreamed of.

He's rather spend the rest of his days stuck on the ground than live a life where he could've saved his little brother and choose not to.

He knows that he made the right choice.

But fuck, it hurts.

It hurts so fucking bad.

Even just while hugging Ranboo right now, he's tried to wrap his wings around the enderman so many times now, and each and every one of those times is just a painful reminder that this is something he'll never be able to do again.

I'm sorry. Ranboo murmurs when the silence stretches on uncomfortably long, his skin crawling at just how quiet it is, just how quiet Dream is in the face of such a horrible realization. 

Dream merely hums in response to Ranboo's words, knowing that the enderman certainly shouldn't be saying sorry, not when he's been nothing but kind to him despite being complete strangers.

But even though Ranboo doesn't need to apologize, Dream can't help but feel a bit of comfort from those words, those two little words helping him remember that he isn't alone.

Today has been so fucking shitty that he can't even put it into words, but at least he has someone here by his side to help him survive to see another day.

Chapter Text

Five Years Ago…

Dream doesn't know how much time passes where he and Ranboo sit together in the grass, the only sounds around them being the buzzing of bees as they fly from flower to flower. 

Having grown so used to the comforting silence of the garden, Dream notices the second that something shifts, the sound of leaves crunching beneath someone's boots instantly putting him on high alert.

"Come on, Kid, I know you're out here!" A voice bellows as the footsteps draw nearer, Dream feeling the way Ranboo stiffens as he sucks in a harsh, fearful breath. "You can't keep running away like this!"

Running away?

Is Ranboo… being chased?

Dream thought that Kinoko was supposed to be safe for all hybrids, so why the hell was Ranboo running away from this person?

"Stay behind me, I'll protect you," Dream mutters in a fiercely protective tone, pulling away from Ranboo and staggering to his feet unsteadily.

When Ranboo releases a questioning vwoop at that, Dream turns around to look at the enderman.

And, oh wow, he can see why this person called Ranboo a kid. While Ranboo is tall by normal standards, he's incredibly short for an enderman, his height, which reaches to just under Dream's chin, telling him that the enderman probably isn't even a teenager yet. 

He's probably close to Drista's age…

While quickly pushing away that thought, Dream continues taking in the enderman's appearance. It's unusual, to say the very least. It's like someone couldn't decide which hybrid to make him, so they split it fifty-fifty, one side of the boy being black like the void, the other being a white that's bright like snow. A set of mismatched eyes, one blood-red and the other emerald green like his own eyes peer up at him, not quite meeting his gaze, instead staring near his chin in confusion. 

Without Ranboo needing to ask anything, Dream sees his confusion and clarifies, "You're clearly scared of this person, so I'm not gonna let them hurt you. You said you'd stick with me, but I'll do the same for you too."

For a few moments, Ranboo just continues watching him with an expression full of disbelief, but, eventually, he nods his head, smiling shakily as he rises to his feet.

When Dream turns around to scope out the garden for whoever scared Ranboo, he feels a gentle hand come to rest across his lower back and tightly grip his shirt, the feeling of Ranboo seeking him for comfort causing Dream to smile fondly.

Now this, this is something he can do.

Even with all the shit he's been through, even after just how much has changed, Dream is good at protecting people, especially those who are younger than him and in need of support.

When someone finally comes into his view, Dream instantly begins growling low in the back of his throat, warning the blaze-hybrid not to come any closer.

In his mind, it doesn't matter that this person is a hybrid, it doesn't matter that the blaze has his hands raised in a placating gesture.

All that matters is that Ranboo is scared of him, and Dream refuses to let anyone hurt the boy who's been nothing but kind to him. 

"Stay the hell away from him," Dream growls in a low voice laced with threats of violence, knowing that, if he felt a bit less like a strong breeze could knock him over, he'd be stalking toward the blaze to make him back off. 

"Dream, is that you? You're awake?" The blaze asks in a surprised tone, having thought that the dragon wouldn't be up on his feet again for days, yet here he is, looking like he's seconds away from jumping into a fight with him.

"Yeah, it is," Dream says in a flippant, clipped tone, not wanting to engage in pointless conversation with whoever the hell this guy is. "What do you want with the kid? If you try to hurt him I swea-"

"I'm not gonna hurt him," Sapnap interrupts as he takes a step back, not wanting either of them to think that he'd hurt a kid. "I'm just trying to take him to one of our rehabilitation facilities. We rescued him late last night and were gonna bring him there in the morning, but he ran before we could."

"And you didn't think that he might be running because he doesn't want to go?" Dream asks with a raised eyebrow and disbelieving scoff, knowing from experience that usually people run when they're scared and don't wanna go wherever the hell they're being taken, but apparently this guy didn't get the memo.

"We did, but there's nowhere else for him to go," Sapnap replies with a heavy sigh, wishing that they didn't have to force the kid to leave, but there's just no other option. "Every new hybrid in the Palace needs to have someone there who's available to take care of them. All of our people've got their hands full, even humans like Punz are taking care of someone. There's literally no one who can help him, and it isn't fair for anyone to try to double up. The rehabilitation facilities here are good, I promise."

Dream opens his mouth to speak, but he doesn't get the chance to before he hears a weak, pleading voice desperately beg from behind him: Dream, Dream, please, don't let him take me there. I-I don't like facilities. They're big and scary and they keep me locked up in chains and they don't ever let me go outside or even teleport and they threaten to take my pearl and I don't wanna go-

Ranboo forcefully cuts himself off there with a shuddering sigh, his hand trembling violently from where it's still clutching desperately to Dream's shirt. 

While feeling his heart absolutely shatter at the sound of Ranboo's fearful pleas, Dream turns toward him, pulling him into a tight hug as he promises, "You're never going back to a place like that again. And no one's gonna take your pearl, not if I have anything to say about it."

Ranboo doesn't respond, just continues trembling in Dream's hold, feeling the desire to teleport rise up in him, but he can't bring himself to leave Dream behind, not when he's promising him such nice things.

With dawning understanding shining in his bright orange eyes, Sapnap slowly says, "You can understand him, can't you?"

When Dream nods, Sapnap sighs heavily and questions in a pained tone, "He really thinks they're going to take his pearl at the facility?"

Ranboo's terrified whimper is answer enough, that wounded sound causing Sapnap to pinch the bridge of his nose with one of his hands, entirely at a loss for what to do.

He sure as hell doesn't want to bring the kid to the facility when he's absolutely terrified, but he also can't just leave a twelve-year-old all alone in a massive Palace.

"Wh-What if I took care of him?" Dream nervously questions after a few moments of debating with himself, noticing the way Ranboo sucks in a hopeful breath from where he's still wrapped in Dream's embrace. 

"You were unconscious for 10 days, and now that you've been awake for an hour you're asking to be the sole caretaker of a kid?" Sapnap questions in a disbelieving tone, moving his hand from his face to instead stare at Dream like he's fucking crazy. "Did I get that right?"

When Dream simply nods his head, Sapnap walks toward the two, rolling his eyes at the way Dream growls threateningly at him.

After stopping a few blocks in front of them, Sapnap says in a callous, blunt tone, "I can see the way you're shaking, Dream, it's a miracle you're even standing right now. The last time you were awake you went through something so traumatic that I can't even begin to imagine it, and now you're trying to take care of another person all by yourself? That does not sound like a healthy way to cope if you ask me."

"Good thing no one fucking asked you," Dream bites out in a tone laced with venom, scowling at the way Sapnap simply laughs at him. 

When his laughter fades, Sapnap's face turns a bit softer and more serious, his next words coming out in a cautious tone, one that's reminiscent of how you'd speak to a frightened animal, "I got to know your brother pretty well while he was here. We spent a lot of time together. He told me about your little sister. I'm sure this is painful for you, but you can't just try to take on another kid now that she isn't here-"

"Shut the fuck up," Dream says through gritted teeth in a voice laced with nothing but fury and hatred. "You don't know a damn thing about me. No one could ever replace my sister. If you even so much as mention her again, I'll slit your fucking throat, got it?"

When Sapnap quickly nods his head, for the first time during this conversation beginning to feel afraid of the dragon in front of him, Dream continues in that same tone, "I'm doing this because Ranboo needs me. You said that there's literally no one else to take care of him, and I'm not going to let him be sent somewhere that he's terrified of. And are there even any enderman at the facility?"

"There aren't, but there's still people he could become friends with," Sapnap tries to say, but Dream just scoffs in disdain at his words and shakes his head.

In a much softer voice than he had just been using, Dream gently asks Ranboo, "You can only speak Ender, right? You don't know how to speak common?"

When Ranboo nods his head in agreement, Sapnap can't help but mutter curses under his breath.

So not only will he be sending the kid somewhere he's terrified of if he does this, but it will also be someplace where he won't be able to talk to anyone.

Fuck…

Even though he knows that this is wrong, knows how bad it could be to give someone who's severely traumatized another traumatized kid to take care of each and every day, there really isn't any other option.

"Okay," Sapnap finally agrees, that one word taking so much more effort than it should to say. "Dream, you're in charge of taking care of him. But if it gets to be too much for you, you gotta promise that you'll tell me so we can bring him to someone else. I don't want either of you to be hurt more than you already have."

After hearing those words, Dream finds himself softening toward the blaze-hybrid the tiniest bit, smiling slightly as he says, "I promise. I'm good at taking care of people though, we'll be okay." 

While nodding his head in understanding, Sapnap softly says, "Alright, follow me so I can take you guys to your room."

Wordlessly, Dream tries to pull back from Ranboo, but the boy keeps hugging him tightly, seeming terrified of letting him go.

While frowning down at the boy, Dream gently murmurs, "You're okay, Ranboo, promise. You aren't going anywhere, okay? I've got you now."

Guess you really do have me. Ranboo shakily jokes, remembering back to his earlier words that, even if Dream has nothing else left, he's still got Ranboo.

With a fond chuckle, Dream pulls away from Ranboo, ruffling his hair as he agrees, "Yeah, looks like we've got each other now, Boo."

Boo? Ranboo curiously questions as he looks up at Dream, his question causing Dream's cheeks to flush with heat. 

"Sorry, I'm kinda used to giving everyone nicknames," Dream sheepishly explains as he rubs a hand across the back of his neck. "I can stop if you don't like it."

No, I like it. Just never had one before. Ranboo explains with a tentative smile, unable to help but think that he could get used to being called by a sweet little nickname. 

"I'm glad," Dream honestly says with a small smile of his own, grabbing one of Ranboo's smaller hands and holding it gently in his own.

Without another word, the two of them begin following Sapnap to their new room. 

Once they arrive, Dream's eyes go wide at the sight of the gigantic bed with dark green blankets and pillows on top, the room bathed in light from the two large windows that lead to what looks like an elaborate balcony. 

"This… This is for us?" Dream can't help but ask Sapnap in a bewildered tone, certain that there must be some kind of mistake, that a room this nice isn't meant for him of all people.

This looks like a room for royalty, not some kid who spent most of his life living in an orphanage that didn't even have enough funds to give everyone food.  

"Yep, it's all yours," Sapnap says with a smile, giving them both a salute while backing out of the room and continuing, "If you need anything, you can come find me or Punz over in the west wing, or just ask anyone working here and they'll help you."

Then, just before leaving, Sapnap turns his attention to Ranboo and softly says, "I'm sorry for scaring you, Ranboo. I hope maybe we can still be friends after this." 

With a shy smile, Ranboo nods his head and waves goodbye to Sapnap.

Once the blaze-hybrid is gone, Dream slowly shuts the door, locking it for good measure.

Then, while feeling a tad bit overwhelmed, Dream turns toward the enderman and says in a hesitant tone, "So, uh, I don't know about you, but I'm fucking exhausted. How about you?"

Yeah, I'm a bit tired too. Ranboo admits after a few moments of hesitation, eyeing the bed with undisguised want shining in his gaze. 

"You cool with sharing the bed?" Dream asks in that same hesitant tone, not wanting to make the kid uncomfortable, but he really doesn't want to sleep on the floor right now.

When Ranboo nods his head, Dream can't help but release a relieved sigh, quickly stumbling over to the bed and just barely finding the strength to pull back the covers before collapsing onto the soft mattress.

Are you okay? Ranboo nervously questions, wringing his hands together out in front of him as he worriedly thinks about how Dream walked to the bed like he was about to pass out.

"Honestly, not really," Dream admits with a bitter laugh, feeling tears prick the corner of his eyes as he continues, "Those humans really fucked me up."

Then with a snort, Dream jokingly says, "I probably shouldn't be cursing so much in front of a kid, huh?"

I don't mind it, as long as you don't yell at me while you do it. Ranboo casually says as he shrugs his shoulders, his words feeling like a punch to the gut to Dream.

Even though sleep is threatening to pull him under, Dream assures Ranboo in a tone filled with honesty and conviction, "I'll never yell at you, Boo, I promise. I don't know who's hurt you, but I swear I'm not like them."

I know you aren't. Ranboo states without hesitation, knowing that, despite just meeting Dream, he must be right.

There's just something about him that tells him that he'll be safe with Dream, that he can trust him despite not being able to trust anyone else before. 

Then, to prove his point, Ranboo climbs into bed, instantly wiggling his way underneath one of his arms so he's facing Dream, his face pressed against the man's chest. 

Normally any sort of physical contact makes Ranboo's skin crawl, makes him feel like he's going to cry or throw up, especially since every touch meant he'd experience some kind of new pain.

But when he saw Dream crying, it just felt so right to hug him. And when he was scared of Sapnap, he could just feel it in his bones that Dream would keep him safe, leading to him holding onto his back as he hid behind him.

Maybe it's because Dream is a dragon, the protector of the End where, so long ago, he used to live. But he hardly remembers that place, just blurry memories of a land where everyone had the same ability to teleport like him. 

Maybe it's because Dream is the first person in years that he's actually been able to talk to.

Maybe he's just desperate to stay with the person who's shown him nothing but kindness so far.

Regardless of the reason, as Ranboo lays beside Dream, the older boy holding him close with those strong arms, he feels safe, safer than he has in such a long time. 

When he hears Dream begin to snore softly, Ranboo can't help but smile at the sound, hoping that Dream sleeps really well, certain that the man needs it after the pain he must've gone through.

Thank you. Ranboo sincerely murmurs, feeling immensely grateful that, despite all the hardship Dream went through, he agreed to take care of Ranboo, just so he wouldn't have to go somewhere he was scared of.

And as he continues laying down in bed, wrapped up Dream's embrace as the kind man sleeps, Ranboo decides something. 

Despite knowing him for such little time, Dream is a good person.

Ranboo might not remember things all that well, but he's sure that he'll never forget how truly good Dream is.

Chapter Text

By the time Dream, George, and Sapnap all arrive in Manburg, the sun is just beginning to dip beneath the horizon, the sight telling George that it’s late enough for it to be acceptable to refuse whatever dinner offer is extended to them and instead retire to their room for the night, something that fills all of them with momentous relief, none of them ever wanting to see Schlatt, but especially not after the tiring ride on horseback to get here.

“I call dibs on the shower,” Sapnap calls out as he enters their temporary room in Manburg, making a beeline toward the bathroom despite the groans of his two companions.

“Why do we let him get away with that every time?” Dream grumbles as he places his bag down on the ground at the foot of the elaborate king-sized bed, taking George’s own bag and placing it beside his. 

“It’s because he smells the worst,” George loudly teases with a smirk as he closes the bedroom door behind himself, sliding both locks into place. 

“I heard that!” Sapnap shouts from within the bathroom connected to their room, his disgruntled tone causing both of them to snicker. “And I don’t smell that bad!”

“Sure you don’t,” Dream mutters under his breath, the smile on his face hidden away by his mask, his words causing George to giggle.

As George sits down in the chair that matches the spruce wood desk in their room, Dream grabs the only other chair in the room and drags it toward the door, wedging the back of it underneath the doorknob to ensure that absolutely no one can get in.

Then, without a word, Dream begins walking along the perimeter of their room, scanning every single block for anything out of place. He checks in the corners of the room, behind the desk and the bedside table, underneath the bed, even scans the ceiling, checking every place where there could possibly be a camera hidden to spy on them. 

When George sees Dream begin to search their entire room for the third time, he can’t help but roll his eyes as he points out, “If you haven’t found one yet, there aren’t any cameras here, Dream.”

“Why wouldn’t he bug our room?” Dream asks in a bewildered tone as he continues searching, certain that there has to be at least some kind of camera here; while he thinks Schlatt is a real bastard, he knows that the man isn’t an idiot, and it’d be incredibly stupid for him to not even bother trying to spy on his ‘guests’.

“Maybe because you broke three of his cameras last time we were here,” George reminds Dream with a wide smile, remembering the outrage on Schlatt’s face when, during the first day of negotiations, Dream walked straight up to the emperor and dumped the mangled cameras on the table in front of the man. “It probably cost him a lot to make those.”

“Serves him right for trying to watch us like a creep,” Dream huffs while crossing his arms over his chest, finally stopping his search for any cameras, knowing that George is probably right. 

“You think he would’ve liked watching us all cuddle?” George asks with a smirk as he stands up from his chair, coming up behind Dream and wrapping his arms around the man’s midsection.

Dream doesn’t dignify that question with a response, instead just snorting with laughter as he leans back against George’s chest, feeling some of the tightness leave his own chest now that he’s wrapped up in his king’s embrace.

The two of them stay like that for a while, only pulling apart when Sapnap emerges from the bathroom, steam clinging to him and his dark hair dripping water onto the floor as he begins toweling it off.

When George raises a questioning eyebrow at Dream, asking if he wants to shower first, Dream smirks and lightly pushes him toward the door while jokingly saying, “After you, Your Highness.”

With a fond eye roll at Dream, George grabs his clothes and towel before making his way to the bathroom.

The second he hears the shower turn on, Dream focuses his gaze on Sapnap, who’s now sprawled out across the bed like a starfish, taking up way too much room despite being the shortest of them all.

Despite seeming relaxed on the bed, Dream knows Sapnap better than anyone else outside of this room. He sees the way the blaze hybrid’s head is tilted slightly toward the door, his hands clenching into fists whenever someone walks by, as though preparing himself for a fight at any moment. 

“You remember the plan, yeah?” Dream suddenly questions in a serious tone, staring intently at Sapnap from behind his mask.

“Yep, same plan as every time we've come here,” Sapnap casually agrees, rolling over to face Dream as he recites, “If Schlatt tries anything, I need to get George out while you stay behind and fight off anyone you need to. And neither of us hesitate to use our distress signals if we need to.”

A few years ago, Sapnap and Punz went on a mission to rescue hybrids, but things started to go south. Sapnap ended up being held hostage by one of the sellers, and they refused to let him go until Punz released everyone that they had arrested. He gave in and listened to their demands so they’d let Sapnap go, something that pissed off the blaze-hybrid to no end, telling Punz that he wasn’t worth letting a bunch of criminals go free. When they returned to the Palace and shared what happened, George decided that they all needed some kind of way to call for backup. He asked Sam, Foolish’s friend and the best builder in all of Kinoko, to come to the Palace and paid him to build something for them. Sam created these little devices that fit in each of their pockets and, if they press down on three buttons all at the same time, it sends out a distress signal, causing anyone with one of those devices to feel it vibrate in their pockets and, after taking it out, the small screen shows the coordinates of the person who pressed it. As he became even more experienced at using redstone, Sam created different versions of the signal, making it so that, depending on the way the device vibrates, everyone will know who pressed their signal. 

As of right now, almost every hybrid in Kinoko has their own distress signal, but they aren’t all interconnected. For your average hybrid, if they press their signal, their close family and friends will be the only ones to receive it and, if they need additional help getting to that person, they can go to the Palace and ask for assistance from the guards. For the Dream Team, their signals are all connected to each others’, as well as to the ones that Wilbur, Tommy, Techno, Ranboo, and Tubbo all have. Similarly, if one of their friends at the Palace were to press their distress signal, all three of them would receive it. The security of their little devices is the only reason why Dream ever feels confident leaving the Palace, knowing that, if someone does try to attack his friends while he's gone, he’ll get the signal and be able to return to the Palace in time to help. 

“Good, glad you’ve got the plan down,” Dream praises as he nods his head, knowing that, no matter what, George has to be their priority; without their beloved king, Kinoko Kingdom would be in shambles, and Dream sure as hell won’t let that happen.

Before Sapnap can respond, George exits the bathroom, taking one look at Dream’s tense posture before asking Sapnap with a heavy sigh, “Is Dream worrying about me again?”

“Always,” Sapnap mutters with a scoff, pointedly ignoring the way Dream flips him off as the masked man makes his way to the shower. 

“Think he’ll ever stop worrying about me?” George softly asks as he settles into bed beside Sapnap, having to shove the man’s limbs out of the way so there’s actually space for him to lay down.

“Hell no,” Sapnap replies with a snort as he scoots closer to George, wrapping his arms around the king and holding him close as he rests his head against George's chest.

As George wraps his arms around Sapnap in return, he can’t help but agree, “Yeah, I think you’re probably right. Being here always makes him worry even more. Can’t blame him for that though, not after everything Schlatt’s done.”

“Remind me again why we can’t just kill him?” Sapnap questions with a heavy sigh, wishing that he could just stab him a few times and be done with all this negotiations bullshit. “He’s probably only a few hallways away from here, it’d be so easy.”

“It’d be so easy to start a war and have all the other nations on our heads for killing the Emperor of Manburg,” George bitterly reminds him, knowing that they absolutely can’t kill Schlatt, not unless they have direct proof that the man attacked him first or violated the treaty they’ve agreed on.

“You’re no fun,” Sapnap pouts petulantly, his words causing George to snort as he rolls his eyes at the younger’s childish behavior. 

“I think I’m plenty fun,” George defends himself, pointedly ignoring the way Sapnap laughs incredulously, as if he can’t believe that George would try to call himself fun.

“No one who’s fun calls themselves ‘plenty fun’,” Sapnap scoffs, yelping in alarm when George harshly shoves his shoulder for saying that to him.

“I could have you thrown in the dungeons for that,” George threatens with a smirk, but Sapnap just rolls his eyes at that, knowing that George wouldn’t dare lock up his favorite person ever.

“Of course, because locking people up is so fun,” Sapnap states in a voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm. “You’re really just proving my point here.”

Before George can come up with a witty retort, Dream asks in a curious tone, “Who’s getting locked up?”

“You are if you don’t get your ass in bed,” Sapnap bites back without missing a beat, his voice taking on a loud, whiny tone as he continues, “Gogy and I have been so lonely without you here.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Dream mutters in a terribly fond tone, carefully setting his dirty clothes and mask off in the corner of the room before closing the distance between them and crawling into bed.

“He really is the biggest idiot ever,” George agrees without hesitation, smiling widely as he feels Dream slide into bed behind him, the larger man holding him close while George snuggles back against him.

“Guys, quit being so mean to me,” Sapnap complains with a huff, but both his companions can hear the smile in his voice.

“Fine, we’ll stop for now,” Dream acquiesces in a tone that sounds way too reluctant for that feeling to actually be genuine, the man instead feeling perfectly content to stop messing with Sapnap and instead just bask in the companionable silence that soon settles around the trio. 

As he continues laying there, George can’t help but release a content sigh, feeling so safe and protected as Sapnap hugs his front, Dream gently holding onto him from behind, fully wrapping him in the embrace of the two people he loves most.

Even though he’s in unfamiliar territory, even though he doesn’t trust Schlatt even the slightest bit, right here and now in this room, his two best friends holding him close as he drifts off to sleep, George feels completely safe and cared for. 

Chapter Text

When the first light of dawn begins poking in between the curtains of their borrowed room in Manburg, Dream slowly starts to stir, a barely-audible groan slipping from his lips as he buries his face against George’s back, wishing that they didn’t have to get up soon, wishing that they weren’t even here at all right now.

But they are here and, after a few more moments of pretending like nothing else exists outside of this room, Dream slowly detangles himself from the sheets and the embrace of his friends, taking a few moments to just watch their sleeping forms with a fond smile on his face before standing up.

After changing from his sleepwear into proper clothes and donning his netherite armor, Dream slips on his mask and settles in the corner of the room to begin sharpening his weapons. Realistically, he doesn’t need to do this, not when he sharpened them just before leaving to come here, but it gives him an excuse to get out some of the nervous energy that clings to him as he waits for his companions to wake up or for one of Schlatt’s messengers to arrive at their door and summon them to start negotiations. 

Luck must not be on his side today because, far too soon, he hears a soft rapping on their bedroom door, the sound causing him to rise to his feet with a groan, still tightly clutching to the netherite axe he was sharpening moments ago. 

When he opens the door, he’s met with a piece of parchment with Schlatt’s royal seal stamped on it, that piece of paper sitting on the ground all by itself, the servant who placed it there having quickly scampered down the hall and out of sight so they wouldn’t have to deal with potentially waking up and angering any guests. 

Dream reluctantly picks up the paper before retreating back to their room, once again locking the door behind him and putting the chair back under the knob for good measure. 

While settling into his spot in the corner once again, he begins scanning the contents of the message, reading until he finds a particular word before balling up the paper and carelessly throwing it across the room, not needing to see anything more. 

Lunchtime.

At least Schlatt has the decency to give them the morning to themselves...

Who is he kidding, it’s probably just because the emperor got drunk again and needs the morning so he can try to recover from his hangover enough to meet with them.

Regardless of the reason though, he’ll gladly take this time away from Schlatt.

Not wanting to let any of their precious time alone go to waste, Dream gently wakes up both of his companions, informing them that negotiations begin at lunchtime.

Then the three of them spend their time chatting about whatever comes to mind, the only interruption being when a few servants come to their door to deliver them breakfast, Dream accepting the plates with a large scowl that’s hidden by his mask. Upon sitting down, Dream distrustfully sniffs the eggs and toast that’s been given to them, carefully taking a bite off of everyone’s plate before handing one to each of his friends, not putting it past Schlatt to have their food be tampered with. 

But their breakfast is perfectly fine, all of them eating it as they continue their conversation about any insignificant little thing that comes to mind, none of them willing to risk talking about anything integral to Kinoko out of fear of being overheard by anyone walking past their door.

And soon enough, George and Sapnap are getting ready to go, the king sliding his baby blue cloak that he loves onto his shoulders to cover part of his royal attire as Sapnap puts on a simple pair of black clothes and netherite armor like what Dream’s already been wearing since this morning. 

Then they’re off, Dream taking the lead as they make their way to the dining hall to meet with Schlatt, Sapnap and George walking side-by-side behind him, just enough room in between them that, if someone were to attack, they could fit George in that gap, allowing Sapnap and Dream to shield him from the front and back as they fight off whoever dares try to hurt their king.

If an outsider could read their minds or learn of the numerous plans they’ve made to deal with any worst-case scenario they’ve thought of, that person would probably think that all three of them are much too paranoid. 

But they know all too well the way Schlatt does nothing but hurt and hurt and hurt people however he sees fit, and even the status and protection that comes with being a king doesn’t mean that George will be safe if Schlatt’s wrath ever were to drift onto him. 

So they plan as best as they can, they catastrophize far quicker than most ever would, viewing even the slightest bit of aggression as an attack on George’s life and a threat that they deal with accordingly each and every time someone is foolish enough to try to hurt their beloved king.

When they arrive at the large dark-oak double doors leading to the dining hall, Dream falls back into step behind his king, knowing how unacceptable it is for someone who isn't a noble-born to walk in front of royalty, especially in the presence of other royals. Honestly, he doesn’t really give a fuck about what’s acceptable or not, but he grits his teeth and lets George take the lead, knowing that keeping up appearances is important to his friend, so he’ll do his best to comply.

Doesn’t mean that he has to like it though. 

When a servant opens the doors for them, the trio is met with a dining hall that's nice but quite plain. Its walls are a soft beige color, but it's nothing like the shimmering quartz found all over the Palace in Kinoko. The table is made up of dark oak like the doors, contrasting nicely with the lighter walls, but the table itself is much smaller than the one in Kinoko, and Dream is certain that all twenty of these seats have never been filled, yet the one in Kinoko is always bustling with guests who laugh and chat as they eat. Rather than having a sparkling emerald chandelier like the one above the table in Kinoko, there's a simple iron fixture hanging down from the ceiling. By itself, the room is nice, but it looks like someplace peasants might live compared to the one in Kinoko.

There is one thing though that Schlatt loves to brag about, one thing that captures the attention of all his guests so they don't notice the fact that the rest of the room is lacking.

On the wall behind the head of the table where Schlatt sits is a large glass display case, one that's mounted right in the middle of the wall so the item in the case and the man who owns it can be everyone's main point of focus. And in that case rests a painfully familiar set of ender dragon wings, forever up on the wall rather than on Dream's back, forever under the scrutiny and ogling eyes of strangers rather than carrying him through the wonderful sky above. 

The first time he entered this room and saw his wings in that case, saw that Schlatt, the reason he lost them in the first place, was now the owner of his precious wings, Dream stepped out into the hall to promptly throw up, George gently rubbing his shoulders while promising that he'd get them back for Dream.

But that was years ago, and now Dream doesn't even spare his wings a glance. Instead, he just stands behind the chair that George settles into, holding his axe in a white-knuckled grip as he tries his best to pretend like everything's fine.

Dream releases a shuddering breath to steel himself, then turns his full attention to George and Schlatt, knowing that he can't get distracted, especially not when Schlatt flatly says, "I thought my invitation said to come alone."

"I did come alone," George swiftly defends himself, ignoring the irritated look on Schlatt's face as he continues, "You know I don't go anywhere without my most trusted men. I could've brought others with me, but I didn't because these are peaceful negotiations."

Then, while glancing pointedly around the room, George can't help but say with a slight smirk, "And I find it interesting that you asked me to come alone, yet you have six guards in this room. Tell me, Emperor Schlatt, are you scared that six of your guards are no match for my men?"

"Not at all," Schlatt states through gritted teeth as he aggressively waves a hand toward the guards, causing all but two of them to file out of the room.

When Dream sees which guards stayed, he can't help but grin widely behind his mask. One of the guards he doesn't recognize, just some burly fellow who looks like he could pack a nasty punch. But the other guard he knows all too well.

It's been years since he's seen him, been years since he last saw their best medic, but he'd recognize those dark blue eyes and blonde hair anywhere. 

The other guard is Punz, who, a few years ago, offered to go undercover as one of Schlatt's guards so he could get some insider information for Kinoko. He's done such a good job that Schlatt doesn't suspect a thing, choosing Punz to be one of the two guards to stay in this room to protect him in case something goes wrong. 

Little does he know that Punz is on their side, that he wouldn't ever do anything to hurt them even if he was ordered to. 

Now that most of Schlatt’s guards have left, the two that remain change positions, one of them moving to stand in front of the door to keep people from coming in--or to keep them from leaving, more likely--and Punz moving to stand somewhere behind them.

None of the three turn to look at where exactly Punz ends up, not wanting Schlatt to see that the guard placement is affecting them, but they’re all certain that he’s standing right behind them.

Even though they’d rather not have anyone behind them, rather not have anyone within stabbing range, they find comfort in the fact that it’s only Punz.

It’s been a long time since any of them have seen Punz--in fact, they haven’t spoken ever since Punz became one of Schlatt’s guards so they wouldn’t compromise his cover--but they trust him.

As the negotiations begin, Dream filters out their conversation, instead eyeing the room around them. There’s only one exit, and that’s blocked by the guard, but he’s certain he could take the man out. Punz is somewhere behind him, which could be a problem if the man’s loyalties have swapped, but Dream trusts him, deciding to not catalog him as a possible threat. There’s also a servant standing nervously in the corner of the room, the young boy constantly sneaking fearful glances at Dream’s mask, but Dream doesn’t think the kid will be much of a threat either. Up in the top left corner of the ceiling rests a camera, the little device looking out over the table where they’re discussing. That’s certainly… interesting. On one hand, it protects Schlatt because, if they were to try to hurt him, he’d have video proof of it. At the same time though, if Schlatt tries anything, it’ll be recorded. 

Very interesting…

Dream can’t help but wonder if Punz knows how to work those cameras. 

Because if Schlatt does try anything, maybe they could send the footage out to the public, possibly get some of the other nations’ rulers to see it and declare war against Schlatt…

It’s definitely something to think about later if it comes down to that. 

Dream tunes back into the conversation as Schlatt says in a forcibly sheepish tone that sounds unnatural coming from the man, “I’m terribly sorry, George, where are my manners? Would you like something to eat while we continue discussing?”

“No thank you, I’m still full from breakfast,” George politely refuses, actually feeling somewhat hungry, but he certainly isn’t going to accept food that comes directly from Schlatt himself. 

“Of course,” Schlatt agrees without hesitation, raising his wine glass up in the air while asking, “How about some wine? This right here is the finest in all the nations, I brought it out especially just for you.”

Dream has to bite back a snort of laughter at that, certain that the wine tastes like ash compared to the stuff they’ve got back in Kinoko, yet Schlatt’s trying to say it’s the best there is. 

George wants to decline the wine as well, wants to tell Schlatt that he doesn’t ever drink, but he knows that such a thing would be incredibly rude after already refusing the emperor's offer for food, and offending Schlatt on day one of negotiations would not bode well for all the days yet to come.

So, instead of refusing the drink like he really wants to, George plasters on a fake smile and easily says, “I would love some wine, thank you.”

Schlatt sharply jerks a hand in the direction of the only servant in the room, a boy who looks much too young to be in such a position, the servant hurriedly nodding before practically running from the room so he can go get a glass of wine, the guard at the door easily stepping out of the way to let him pass before once again resuming his position.

When the boy returns a few moments later with a glass of shimmering red wine, George gives him a polite smile as he grabs the drink, setting it on the table next to him rather than having a sip right away, hoping that he’ll be able to avoid actually drinking any of it.

Soon, the negotiations begin to drone on and on without reaching a compromise. Neither of them speaks these reasons aloud, but Schlatt wants to keep the borders of Manburg closed so no hybrids can flee his nation to go to Kinoko. On the other hand, George wants to open up the Kinoko-Manburg border so it will be easier for his men to sneak inside Schlatt’s nation to rescue hybrids. Rather than stating their real reasons though, George insists that they’ll be able to trade amongst their nations much easier if the borders were open, while Schlatt claims that the cost of opening the borders outweighs the benefits of easier trade. 

As time passes, George starts to feel a fierce pounding in his temple, a headache blooming behind his eyes from all this back and forth arguing that never goes anywhere. 

When he looks down at the table, he’s reminded of the wine glass that the servant left for him however long ago. By now, Schlatt had drank almost his whole glass of wine, but George still has yet to touch his.

George has never been one to drink, never liked the bitter taste or the strange buzz he’d start to feel as the alcohol began to take effect, but this headache from all their arguing is killing him, and he’s ready to try just about anything that might help it go away enough for him to make it through the next few hours of today’s negotiations. 

As George reaches for the wine though, Dream’s gloved hand brushes against his, grabbing the wine glass for himself and lifting his mask slightly to bring the drink to his own lips. 

Every time they’re in some place outside of Kinoko, Dream always tests whatever food or drink is given to George, just to make sure it’s safe for his king to have.

It’s something that he’s been doing for years, just one of the many ways he’s willing to put himself on the line to protect his king.

It’s just that, until now, the fact that he does this hasn’t actually mattered.

But after taking a big gulp of the wine, Dream goes to set the glass back on the table, but his fingers slip, or maybe the glass slips, he can’t really tell, not as a burning pain begins to engulf his throat before spreading throughout the rest of his body, wine dripping like blood down to the ground below as Dream clutches to his suddenly-tight chest with trembling hands.

And then three things happen all at once. 

George watches in horror as Dream, his best friend, one of the people he loves most, collapses onto the ground below, his body starting to tremble violently and a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead beneath his mask as the poisoned wine enters his system.

The second thing that happens within the span of a few seconds is Sapnap yelping in surprise as he's kicked in the back of his legs, causing them to buckle as he sinks to his knees. Before he can stand up again, a hand is fisting in his hair, yanking his head back and exposing his throat, allowing Punz to use that grip to press his sword against Sapnap's neck.

And the final thing is that, when George finally tears his gaze away from his two friends in grave danger, he looks back toward Schlatt with blazing fury in his eyes, only for that to be replaced with ice-cold dread as he finds himself staring down the tip of a crossbow bolt. 

With a sickeningly self-satisfied smirk, Schlatt aims the weapon right at his head, both of them knowing that, if the emperor fires, George will be dead.

"I think it's time you and me have a little chat about that kingdom of yours," Schlatt eagerly says with that same wicked grin on his face.

And with that deadly weapon still pointed at him, all George can do is nod.

Chapter Text

"Stand up," Schlatt commands while still pointing his crossbow at the king, using the weapon to motion George up into a standing position.

Slowly, not knowing what else to do, George pushes himself up out of his seat, raising his hands level to his chest in surrender, keeping his gaze trained on the crossbow even though every instinct inside of him screams at him to check and see if his best friends are okay.

"Walk toward me, but don't try anything unless you want to be shot," Schlatt says with a smirk after taking a few moments to just watch George, feeling a giddy sense of power thrum through his veins at having the wealthiest king in the world completely at his mercy.

"You won't shoot me," George firmly states as he begins walking toward Schlatt, his voice filled with confidence despite the harrowing situation he's found himself in.

Even though it’s incredibly reckless for Schlatt to do this, George knows that the emperor isn't an idiot. If Schlatt were to shoot him right now, even if he didn't hit anything vital, the emperor would have every other nation after his head for hurting him, and a war on such a big scale isn’t something that even Schlatt would risk.

"I won't shoot you," Schlatt easily agrees, but before George can feel relief from the confirmation that he won't be shot, Schlatt turns his attention toward Sapnap, his next words making George swallow hard against rising bile: "But I’ll shoot your little hybrid over there if you don’t cooperate."

"Tell me this," Schlatt begins with a wicked smirk, a predatory glint in his eyes as he points the crossbow at Sapnap, who's still being held in place by Punz's sword against his throat. "How long do you think it would take for your hybrid to bleed out if I shot it in the stomach?"

When George doesn't respond, feeling so sick to his stomach that he’s certain he'll just throw up if he opens his mouth, Schlatt turns his attention back to the king, smiling smugly at how pale the man looks.

"What's wrong, George? You're looking a little sick there…" Schlatt questions in a faux-concerned tone, raising an eyebrow in a taunting manner when George continues to stay silent.

After a few moments of George still not saying anything, Schlatt irritatedly raises the crossbow from where it was aimed at the ground, instead pointing it at Sapnap again while curiously asking the king, "How much would you give up to protect your little pets here? Would you give up Kinoko to save them? Surely not, right? I mean, you don't actually care about it, do you? If I were to jus-"

"Stop!" George shouts in a panicked tone when Schlatt loads the crossbow, knowing that he can't let the emperor think he doesn't care, not when he could kill his best friend with the single pull of a trigger.

"There it is," Schlatt mutters with a satisfied smirk as he turns away from the hybrid who's glaring daggers at him, instead focusing on George, who's now trembling with a powerful combination of all-encompassing rage and fear as he watches Schlatt's every move. "You actually do care about it, don't you?"

"Yes, I care about him," George admits through gritted teeth, wishing that he could slaughter Schlatt where he stands for threatening him and hurting his best friends.

Then, before Schlatt can continue gloating, George asks in a frustrated tone, "What do you want from me, Schlatt? We came here for peaceful negotiations, why are you doing this?" 

"There's no way we could have peace, not when you care about those freaks," Schlatt harshly says with a scoff, his words punctuated by him waving his crossbow in Sapnap's direction. "Can’t you see that hybrids are beneath humans in every way? Why do you treat those things like they're first-class citizens of your nation? You’re human, George, you don’t have to put up with their bullshit."

"Emperor Schlatt, if I may forgo pleasantries for a moment,” George says in a voice absolutely dripping with disdain, his words a mockery of the usual way he speaks so politely in the presence of other royals. 

Then, without waiting for a response, George barrels on, adamantly saying without hesitation, “You disgust me. You, Schlatt, are the reason I wish I was born a hybrid, that way I wouldn’t have to share the same species with someone as pathetic as you. They say ignorance is bliss, but quite frankly, it just makes you look like an absolute idiot." 

George wants to continue, wants to keep ripping into Schlatt, the person he hates more than anyone else, but he can’t find it in himself to say anything more, feeling utterly sickened by how Schlatt can condemn him for treating others with basic human decency, utterly sickened by how Schlatt can look at wonderful hybrids like Sapnap and Dream and Wilbur and Techno and so many others while claiming that they're lesser than anyone else.

“Those are some brave words for someone without a weapon or anyone to protect him,” Schlatt points out with a wide, easy grin, as if the words George just said had no effect at all on his cold, dead heart. 

While shrugging his shoulders, trying to match Schlatt’s casualness while being in a life or death situation, George bluntly and honestly states, “I’m not afraid of you, Schlatt, nor am I afraid of death. If you want to make me a martyr, go ahead, kill me. But if I die today, I know that I’ll die being loved by more people than I can even imagine. Can you say the same, Emperor Schlatt?”

“You’ve got some nerve coming into my castle and saying that shit to me-” Schlatt growls in a tone laced with fury, but he doesn’t get a chance to finish his angry rant before he’s interrupted.

“May I remind you that I came to your castle for peaceful negotiations, as I’ve been doing for years,” George interrupts him in a loud tone, spurred on by a sudden boldness that causes him to cross the few blocks that separate them, standing face to face with Schlatt and jabbing a finger against the man’s chest as he continues, “You’ve poisoned one of my men, threatened the other, and attacked me entirely unprovoked. I’ve spent years trying to work with you, Schlatt, despite the fact that you’ve hurt hundreds of people. So until you let my men go or kill me, I’ll continue to say whatever I want.”

As George and Schlatt keep arguing, Sapnap takes advantage of this moment where the emperor's attention--and crossbow--is off him, reaching a hand down to his pocket. 

If he could just grab the little device in his pocket and press the distress signal, then their friends in Kinoko will be able to come here and rescue them before anyone else gets hurt or George does something incredibly stupid in the name of protecting them all.

When Punz feels Sapnap shift in his grasp, he can't help but glance down at him, noticing the way the blaze-hybrid's hand is reaching toward his pocket. 

Punz knows exactly what Sapnap is trying to do. 

Hell, he was there when Sapnap was held hostage much like he is right now, was there when George brought Sam to the Palace so he could make distress signals for them all.

Punz doesn't have his signal anymore, not since he gave it to Sapnap for safe keeping when he went to become one of Schlatt's guards, that way no one would ever find it and question his loyalty to Schlatt.

He knows how the devices work, knows how easy it would be to prevent Sapnap from calling for help. 

All he would need to do is release his grip on Sapnap's hair and instead use his free hand to pin Sapnap's own hands behind his back so he can't press the buttons on his signal. 

And that's exactly what he does. Punz releases Sapnap's hair, quickly grabbing the blaze-hybrid's wrists and wrenching his hands behind his back, the sword against Sapnap's throat from Punz's other hand preventing him from fighting back.

When he hears Sapnap release a shaky breath, one laced with both fear and failure, Punz feels his heart clench painfully.

He has orders that he needs to follow, and those orders are to make sure that Sapnap can't do anything to interfere with what Schlatt's doing. 

So what if it made him feel sick to his stomach when Schlatt gave him permission to stop Sapnap through any means necessary?

And so what if he's feeling that same sick sensation right now?

He has orders, and orders need to be followed. 

If not, he'll be spending the rest of his life in Schlatt's dungeons, and he knows that no one ever comes out once they go down there. 

Following orders is the most important thing.

At least, that's what Punz thought before he felt something wet drip onto his wrist, the wrist that's being used to hold a sword to Sapnap's throat.

For a few seconds, Punz thinks that Sapnap might be bleeding, his heart aching in his chest at the thought of the blaze-hybrid being hurt, but a quick glance at his wrist shows no sign of any redness on it. 

When a second clear droplet drips onto his wrist, Punz finally understands what's happening, that realization making the tightness in his chest grow even more.

Sapnap is crying right now…

And why wouldn't he be?

One of his best friends is lying on the floor a few blocks away, ragged inhales and shaky exhales escaping him as he fights to breathe through the poison wreaking havoc on his system. His other best friend is still trying to reason with Schlatt, George's hands raised in surrender as the emperor wildly swings the crossbow around while speaking, his finger dangerously close to pulling the trigger at any point.

And Punz just took away Sapnap's only way to call for help, his only way to save his friends.

In following his orders, Punz just doomed Sapnap and his friends.

Fuck…

He can't do that.

Not to them.

It's been far too long since they've been together now, but Punz still grew up with George and Sapnap, still became such close friends with Dream ever since they rescued him.

So even if it means spending the rest of his life in some cold, dingy underground cell in Schlatt's dungeon, he can't let them die…

After taking a deep breath to steel himself, Punz releases his grip on Sapnap's wrists. 

Instantly, Sapnap's hand darts down to his pocket, quickly pressing the three little buttons at the same time, seeming like he's trying to call for help before Punz stops him again.

But Punz does no such thing.

Instead of grabbing Sapnap's hands again to restrain him, he places his freehand on top of Sapnap's shoulder, using his thumb to rub soothing circles against his skin, hoping that the gentle touch will serve as a silent apology for his actions. 

In response, Punz feels a familiar hand snake around his wrist, that contact causing him to stiffen for a few moments, waiting to feel the blistering pain of Sapnap burning his skin so he can get out of his hold.

But, much to his surprise, that pain never comes.

He knows that Sapnap could hurt him so easily right now, could burn his arm to make him drop the sword, then pick up that sword to kill him, all while he’s unable to do anything to stop him.

But the blaze-hybrid doesn't ever hurt him, just continues holding onto his wrist, as if trying to seek comfort from that contact, or simply to show Punz that he understands why he's doing this and that there's no hard feelings between them.

It's more than Punz feels like he deserves, but he can’t help but hope that, when everyone arrives from Kinoko, they’ll find it in themselves to forgive him too. 

Even if he doesn’t deserve them anymore, Punz can’t deny the fact that he’s missed his friends. 

And as he looks over the three of them, looks over at George who’s still engaged in a heated conversation with Schlatt, looks over at Dream who’s still struggling just to breathe through the pain of poison rushing through his veins, looks over at where Sapnap still lightly grips his wrist that presses a sword to the man's neck, Punz makes a silent promise to himself. 

He’s done following orders from the bastard who’s hurt his friends time and time again.

Punz won't be listening to Schlatt anymore.

Instead, he's going to help his friends, consequences be damned. 

Chapter Text

As the minutes pass by while he anxiously waits for help to arrive, Sapnap grits his teeth against the sound of George and Schlatt fighting, their heated argument now turning into a full-blown shouting match, one that doesn't seem like it will end anytime soon. 

He isn't quite sure what they're fighting about, probably still something about the way Schlatt treats hybrids like shit, but it’s clear to see that this conversation is steadily turning into something ugly.

Schlatt's face is a bright tomato red from anger, his fury only seeming to grow as George continues to refuse to yell back, still keeping a level head despite the harrowing situation that he's in, that feature being just one of the many things that make him such a great king.

But it's also something that puts him in danger.

George has an uncanny ability to rile people up if he wants to, has that little smirk that comes out whenever he knows that he's already won the current battle.

Sapnap and Dream have never had any care for politics, but that's George's field of expertise.

He knows how to play the game, knows how to spin words so they work in his favor in order to better his nation, knows how to lose with dignity but doesn't hesitate to show off that proud smile whenever he's won.

And right now he's smiling, a bold, foolish grin on his lips in the face of Schlatt's fury.

George knows that he's going to get an earful from Sapnap later, certain that his friend is absolutely pissed right now, but he doesn’t regret purposely antagonizing Schlatt.

As soon as he felt the device in his pocket begin to vibrate, George knew that Sapnap pressed his distress signal, letting their friends back at home know that they need help.

Soon they'll be here to save them from this mess.

So all they have to do is survive until then.

George knows without a doubt that Schlatt wouldn't dare kill him, not unless the emperor has a death wish.

That means he just needs to stall for time, needs to keep the attention on himself rather than his friends, needs to keep Schlatt distracted long enough for their rescuers to arrive.

And what better way to do that than by making a fool of Schlatt, by pointing out the man's flaws and failed job as emperor until his face turns redder than a beetroot and his arguments become nothing more than nonsensical shouting? 

George thought that his plan was perfect, that he could keep Schlatt distracted long enough to protect Sapnap from the emperor's wrath.

He was confident.

So confident that he didn't see Schlatt swing until it was too late.

One moment George is standing right in front of Schlatt, smirking triumphantly in the face of Schlatt’s shouting as he peers up at the fuming emperor.

Then the next moment he's lying on the ground at Schlatt's feet, his head pounding and the world spinning around him as he dazedly moves a hand to clutch his throbbing cheek, his fingers instantly becoming slick with warm blood. 

"George!" Sapnap screams in a hoarse, fearful tone, nearly lurching forward and slicing his own neck open on Punz's sword, the man's hand on his shoulder holding him firmly being the only thing that keeps the blaze-hybrid from cutting himself.

And then it’s like the entire world is put on pause after Sapnap’s terrified shout.

The room descends into silence, Schlatt’s furious yelling abruptly cutting off once he realizes that the person he was speaking to is now on the floor, blood dripping steadily from the man’s cheek.

The sight of that blood, blood belonging to a king, is what causes Schlatt’s anger to finally leave him, his face going from bright red to deathly pale in a matter of seconds, the metallic scent in the air further confirming that he just fucked up.

While breathing heavily from his shouting and the adrenaline now coursing through his veins, Schlatt stares down at George, unable to tear his gaze away from gash on George's cheek, the wound caused by the metal tip of his crossbow, which is slowly drip drip dripping the king’s blood onto the floor.

When he lashed out at the king, Schlatt didn't think about what hand he was using, simply wanting George to shut up so he wouldn’t have to hear that whiny voice preach about anymore equality for hybrids bullshit. 

He didn't mean to smack George's face with his crossbow, didn't mean to spill the king's blood onto the floor of his castle, knowing that even a single spilled drop is a direct declaration of war.

And then it’s like the world begins turning again, the eerie stillness around them coming to an end as Sapnap begins fighting to break free as he screams at Schlatt with an animalistic snarl escaping in between each of his words, "You bastard, I'll fucking kill you! You’re dead!”

Schlatt doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead wracking his mind for any way to salvage this situation, but he comes up empty, knowing deep down that it’s much too late to do anything.

Not only did he just injure a king, but one who came here for peaceful negotiations. 

This wasn't supposed to happen, he just wanted to take George’s kingdom through a little poison and some negotiations, perhaps a trade that included giving the king a way to save his precious pet in exchange for granting Schlatt rulership of Kinoko. 

Hurting George was never a part of the equation, not when even the smallest of cuts leads straight to war.

He just started a war, one that he has no chance of surviving, not when so many people of his nation are too weak to fight because food has been so scarce lately.

“George!” Sapnap screams as he fights to pull away from Punz even more frantically, his skin beginning to heat up without him realizing it, intense panic gripping his chest as he watches more of his best friend's blood mix with the dirty floor, which is someplace a king should never be, but especially not while bleeding.

"Sap," George slurs in a pain-filled tone, his head pounding so fiercely that it’s hard for him to tell what’s going on, but he’d recognize Sapnap’s voice anywhere, that familiar sound bringing him the slightest bit of comfort amongst all the pain. 

And Schlatt can’t think like this, can’t come up with a way out of this situation with all this incessant shouting coming from the king’s unruly hybrid pet. 

While gritting his teeth in anger, Schlatt glares at Punz, making a sharp motion with his hand once the guard meets his eyes, the look in the emperor’s own eyes telling Punz that he has to listen right this second or else this will be the last thing he ever does. 

And he could easily listen to Schlatt right now, especially since he knows that signal very well.

Schlatt has used it enough times that Punz is sure he'll never forget it.

It's the signal to kill.

Schlatt wants him to kill Sapnap right now.

He wants Sapnap dead.

Logically, it’d be so easy to kill the hybrid who’s still struggling to escape his hold, just one drag of the sword against Sapnap's neck and he'd be dead. 

But Punz has already killed far too many at Schlatt's hand, and he certainly isn't adding Sapnap to that list.

So, rather than carrying out that order, Punz makes a decision of his own.

Ever since Schlatt stumbled upon the notebook he kept full of information about the emperor to eventually give to his friends in Kinoko, Punz has been nothing but a slave to Schlatt, just a weapon for him to use however he pleases, no choice in who lives and dies, not unless he wants his own life to end.

But he’s done with that now, tired of how utterly drained and used he’s felt after every day of being forced to follow each one of his commands. 

Even if his friends in Kinoko never forgive him for what he did today, he’d rather take his chances with them than spend another second following Schlatt’s orders.

So with the first smile he’s had in months, Punz pulls the sword away from Sapnap's neck, then shoves the weapon into the blaze-hybrid's hand.

Sapnap glances back at Punz in confusion when he’s freed and handed the weapon, but the guard isn’t looking at him, his dark blue eyes fixed on Schlatt.

“Guard, kill him!” Schlatt shouts in a mix of outrage and fear, his eyes wide in shock and alarm, having expected the little spy to obey his command just like the thousands of other ones, always too afraid of spending life in a cell to disobey.

“No,” Punz calmly states, his smile growing wider when Schlatt physically recoils backwards, as if being told no hurts as badly as being punched. “I’m done being your slave.”

Schlatt opens his mouth to threaten Punz into listening to him, but he doesn’t get the chance to, not when there’s suddenly a figure rushing toward him with a deadly sword in his hand.

Just in time, Schlatt manages to swap his crossbow for a sword, barely blocking Sapnap’s attack that was aiming to slice off his head. 

"No one touches George!" Sapnap screams as he swings his sword at Schlatt again, the emperor blocking the attack this time too, but it’s clear as day that he's no match for a furious blaze-hybrid driven by the desire to protect and kill. 

As the two continue to fight, Punz turns his attention away from them, instead quickly kneeling by George to inspect the wound on his cheek.

Before he can properly assess the damage though, a bloodied hand snakes around his wrist, preventing him from gently cleaning around the wound so he can see what it looks like. 

When Punz raises a confused eyebrow, George croaks in a slurred, pain-filled voice, “‘S not tha’ bad. Dream first.”

And shit, Punz kinda forgot about the fact that Dream got poisoned with everything else that’s happened in such a short time. 

While gently freeing his hand from George’s grasp, Punz murmurs, “He’ll be okay. You both will, promise.”

George just smiles at that, which admittedly looks more like a grimace, especially with all the blood clinging to the side of his face, but that attempt at a smile is enough for Punz to feel comfortable walking away from the king to help Dream. 

When Punz kneels down beside Dream, he can’t help but wince at how badly Dream’s body is trembling, sweat covering his skin like a heavy blanket as weak, wheezing puffs of air escape from behind his mask.

After glancing up at the camera in the corner of the room, Punz lifts Dream’s mask in a way that keeps his features hidden from view of the recording device but still allows him to see the man’s face.

With a deep frown, Punz uses one hand to tenderly brush the hair out of Dream’s face that had been plastered to his forehead by sweat, his other hand reaching into his inventory for a bucket of milk, something that he grabbed as soon as he could once Schlatt shared his plan of poisoning Dream, the emperor being certain that the man would test George’s poisoned food or drink at some point during the meeting. 

As Punz goes to start giving Dream some milk, he can’t help but flinch when he hears a loud, agonized scream, his jerky movement causing some of the milk to slosh over the side of the bucket.

When Punz glances toward the sound of the scream, he sees a sight that he never thought he would.

It’s emperor Schlatt, his tall figure hunched in on himself while he sits on his knees. 

And as he kneels, he clutches tightly to his right arm, at least what little's left of it, the appendage from the elbow down having been flung off to the side of the room along with the emperor’s sword.

While Schlatt continues screaming in agony, Punz can just barely hear Sapnap say in an angry, taunting tone, "That was for Dream, you bastard. It's not fun to lose such a big part of yourself, is it?"

Then, before Schlatt can respond, Sapnap drives his sword through the emperor's chest in one swift, deadly movement, finding a twisted sort of satisfaction in knowing that Schlatt suffered at least a fraction of the pain that he inflicted on so many others before his death. 

When the light finally leaves Schlatt's eyes, making his face permanently frozen in an expression of shock and pain, Sapnap yanks out his sword, allowing the emperor’s body to gracelessly tumble to the ground below, never to move again.

While turning his attention to the other guard in the room who's been watching the whole exchange with terror clear on his face, Sapnap raises his sword that’s drenched in the emperor’s blood and growls, "That'll be you too if you try to leave this room."

The burly guard quickly nods his head in agreement while swallowing hard in fear, slowly moving to the corner closest to the door and sitting down, hoping to seem like less of a threat compared to where he had been standing blocking the door.

Now that Schlatt's well and truly dead, Sapnap shoves his body away with an animalistic snarl, kicking the corpse for good measure while sneering, “Enjoy hell, you fucker.”

Then, with a heavy sigh that helps release some of his hatred for Schlatt, Sapnap kneels next to George, his shaky hands nervously hovering over his friend's face, wanting to help stem the blood that’s still trickling from his wound, but unsure what to do.

Before Sapnap can ask Punz how to help George, the door to the dining hall slams open, the sound causing them to tense in preparation for another fight, but they all relax when they hear a wonderfully familiar monotone voice call out, "I heard you guys were looking for a rescue?"

Chapter Text

Back at the Palace in Kinoko Kingdom, a family of four all sit huddled together in a nest made of fluffy pillows and blankets, the only sounds being the gentle strumming of Wilbur playing his guitar from where he sits on the outside of the nest.

As Wilbur continues to play a soft song, humming quietly to the tune of each pluck of a string, Tommy leans against his brother’s back, moments away from falling asleep due to the quiet sounds of music and the soothing heat of where his body presses against Wilbur’s.

Techno and Phil aren’t fairing much better in staying awake, not with Phil’s head resting on Techno’s chest as they lay together, the Elytrian’s wings draped over them both, cocooning them in pleasant warmth. Tiny, happy chirps escape Phil intermittently as Techno occasionally runs a hand through Phil’s wings, gently smoothing out his silky feathers.

When Wilbur’s guitar falls silent, Phil sleepily murmurs with a wide, proud smile, “You’re really good at that, Mate.”

“You think so?” Wilbur shyly questions, his heart soaring with happiness at the knowledge that his dad likes his guitar playing, especially since that hobby has become a great comfort to him during the months when Phil was gone.

Once Phil nods his head, Wilbur happily says, “Thanks, Dad.”

Then, after a thoughtful pause, Wil shares, “The song I just played is actually Dream’s favorite.”

While perking up slightly after hearing that, Phil questions with a smile, “Is it now?”

“Yeah, that’s the song that he always used to hum to help his little sister fall asleep,” Wilbur shares with a terribly fond smile, not noticing the way Techno begins to pay a bit more attention to the conversation, the bunny hybrid being unaware of the fact that Dream has a little sister. “He didn’t know the name of it or anything, but I heard him humming it enough times that I was able to figure out some chords that sounded close to it. You should’ve seen the smile on his face when I first played it for him.”

“I bet that made him very happy,” Phil softly says after a few moments of just mulling over Wilbur’s words, imagining just how happy the man would’ve been.

And speaking of being happy, it really seems like Dream and Wilbur are happy together…

After having that thought, Phil can’t help but curiously ask, “Hey, Wil? Are you and Dream together? It’s okay if you are, I’m just curious…”

As heat begins to enter his cheeks, Wil says in an embarrassed tone, “I, uh, don’t really know how to describe what we are.”

Phil stays silent at that, trying to give Wilbur a few moments to gather his thoughts, but his son doesn’t elaborate.

Instead, Wilbur just releases a frustrated huff as he runs a hand through his hair, feeling like there’s no good way to describe what they are, not when ‘friends’ doesn’t carry enough weight and ‘boyfriends’ has far too many feelings attached to it that they don’t experience.

Wanting to help Wilbur out since he’s clearly struggling, Techno hums thoughtfully before murmuring, “They’re like us, Phil. They love each other to death, wanna be close to each other, but there’s nothing romantic goin’ on.”

“Yes,” Wilbur breathes out with a relieved sigh, shooting Techno a grateful smile as he continues, “That’s exactly it.”

While grinning widely, Phil sincerely says, “I’m happy for you, Wil.”

“You are?” Wilbur softly asks with a slightly nervous smile, feeling hope start to build deep within his chest. 

“Of course, Mate,” Phil replies without hesitation, his smile still in place as he continues, “All I’ve ever wanted is for you all to be happy. If he makes you happy, then I’m happy too.”

Before Wilbur can thank Phil for those terribly kind words, his dad thoughtfully finishes by saying, “Besides, I don’t think there’s a single person out there who’s kinder than Dream. You certainly picked a good one, Wil.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty amazing, isn’t he?” Wilbur says with that fond smile back in place, knowing that he could just gush about how awesome Dream is for hours.

“Yep, he’s the best,” Phil eagerly agrees, afterward nuzzling his face deeper into Techno’s chest, starting to feel terribly sleepy. 

“Think the old man’s getting tired,” Techno teasingly says with a smirk once he feels Phil snuggle deeper into his embrace, that quirk of his lips turning into a genuine smile when Phil tiredly smacks his arm in retaliation. 

“Yep, looks like it’s past his bedtime,” Wilbur agrees while snickering, the fact that he’s able to just laugh and joke around with his family like this feeling so, so wonderful.

“Shut,” Phil grumpily demands, his words causing both Techno and Wilbur to laugh, especially once they see the deep pout on his features.

While still smiling, Wilbur sets his guitar off to the side, turning slightly so Tommy can lean against his side rather than being pressed up against his back, the new position seeming much more comfortable if Tommy’s pleased, sleepy hum is anything to go by. 

As the youngest and oldest of their group both steadily drift off to sleep, Wilbur and Techno content themselves to simply chat with each other in hushed tones, neither of them talking about anything important, but something about the idle chatter, especially while surrounded by their beloved family, just feels right. 

Wilbur isn’t sure how much time passes, too enthralled in Techno’s retelling of the story of Heracles from Greek Mythology, but he does notice with startling clarity the moment the little device in his pocket begins to buzz.

Techno instantly feels it as well, abruptly bolting upright from where he was laying in the nest, murmuring a soft apology when Phil wakes up with a loud whine at being jostled so rudely.

“Who’s signal is that?” Wilbur asks in a worried tone, knowing that it isn’t Dream’s since he memorized the pattern connected to his signal long ago, but that thought doesn’t lessen his fear at all, especially since he knows that Dream George and Sapnap are all together in Manburg right now.

After shifting Phil off to the side so he can stand up, Techno begins pacing the length of the room as he mutters, “That’s Sapnap’s signal. We’ve tested it together so many times to make sure it works, but he’s never actually needed to use it.”

“What’s going on?” Phil questions as he also stands up and approaches Techno, all traces of sleepiness leaving in a rush once he picks up on Wilbur and Technoblade’s distressed expressions. 

“Sap just pressed his distress signal,” Techno murmurs in that same fearful tone, already making a mental checklist of whatever supplies they might need, knowing that they need to be very prepared, especially since they have no idea what they’re about to walk into. 

“Sap?” Phil asks in a tone laced with confusion, pretty sure he’d remember if he heard about someone here named Sap.

“Sapnap,” Wilbur clarifies as he too stands up, Tommy, who just woke up from all the noise they're making, soon following suit, leaving all four of them standing around the nest. “He’s the guy who always goes out with Techno to raid the places keeping hybrids captive. Right now he's with Dream and King George in Manburg.”

“Fuck,” Phil breathes out with wide eyes, finally catching onto how serious this situation is, knowing firsthand that any number of awful things could happen in Manburg.

While doing his best to swallow back his fear, feeling absolutely terrified of what might be happening to them, what might be happening to Dream, Phil turns to Techno and asks, “What can I do to help?”

“You’re staying here,” Techno firmly states without hesitation, barreling on when he sees Phil open his mouth to protest, “I’ve hardly even had you back for a full day, there’s no way you’re going back to Manburg.”

Then, while turning toward Tommy, Techno continues, “Tommy, you and Tubbo are staying here with Phil. Me Wil and Ranboo will go to Manburg together to rescue them.”

Even though Tommy wants to help too, he just nods his head in agreement, knowing that there’s no changing Techno’s mind when he gets that fierce, determined glint in his eyes. 

But Phil doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment as Tommy, the Elytrian walking right up to Techno and angrily protesting, “You can’t just tell me to stay here! Just because I’ve been through shit doesn’t mean you get to treat me like I’m broken now!”

As his expression immediately softens, Techno grabs both of Phil’s hands, meeting his best friend's gaze as he sincerely says, “You’re not broken, Phil, you’re the strongest person I know. But if I lost you again? Now that would break me.”

“Oh,” Phil murmurs in a low, surprised tone as tears suddenly prick the corners of his eyes, unsure what to say in the face of such a vulnerable admission.

While giving Techno’s hands a reassuring squeeze, Phil softly relents, “Okay, I’ll stay then. You promise you’ll be careful, right?”

“Promise,” Techno adamantly says without hesitation, giving Phil a shaky smile before releasing his hands and pulling him into a tight hug.

With a content sigh, Phil returns the hug, wrapping his arms and wings around the bunny hybrid.

After giving the two a few more moments to hug, Wilbur loudly clears his throat before saying, “Come on, Tech, we gotta go. Who knows what’s going on over there.”

While sighing heavily, knowing that Wilbur’s right even though every fiber of his being screams for him not to leave Phil’s side, Techno pulls back from Phil’s embrace, giving his friend a shaky smile and a small wave before meeting Wilbur by the door.

Trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere a bit, Tommy nods his head toward Techno and his brother as he cheekily says, “Go bring those losers home.”

“We will,” Wilbur promises with the ghost of a smile, knowing that he’s bringing Dream home even if it’s the last thing he ever does. 

After a few more farewells, Techno and Wilbur exit the bedroom, hating the way the door slides shut with a hint of finality, as if they may never return to their family again.

Before they can dwell on that feeling though, they hear a loud set of footsteps come rushing down the hallway toward them, that sound paired with a soft vwoop.

“Ranboo,” Techno greets with a tight smile when the enderman appears right in front of the duo, that expression turning more genuine when he sees the boy carrying a large bag. “Did you bring us supplies?”

When Ranboo nods his head, Techno places a hand on Ranboo’s shoulder, using the other hand to grab the bag from the enderman while excitedly saying, “Yoooo, thanks for grabbin’ those! See, Wilbur, you should be more like this guy.”

Ranboo shyly ducks his head toward the ground after hearing that, smiling embarrassedly under the unexpected praise. 

Meanwhile, Wilbur just rolls his eyes at Techno’s last comment, deciding that it’s not even worth it to argue the fact that Techno could’ve gotten some supplies too.

Instead, Wil goes to thank Ranboo as well, but before he can actually do so Tubbo comes rushing into view, his heavy footsteps coming to an end when he stops in front of the three, the boy also carrying a large bag of supplies.

“You two are so awesome,” Wilbur adamantly says as he grabs the bag from Tubbo, smiling widely when he sees the wide assortment of potion bottles that Tubbo was carrying.

Tubbo just gives Wil a thumbs up, afterward collapsing onto the ground as he continues heaving for breath, glaring at Ranboo because he isn’t even slightly winded since he teleported here instead of running. 

The group remains silent as Techno and Wil sort through the supplies, getting their inventories in order as Tubbo just tries to breathe through his exhaustion.

When he finally does catch his breath, Tubbo starts off with a cheery ramble of, “I’m assuming that I’ll be staying here since bees aren’t very good in combat. Unless you want me to press my self-destruct button, because I could totally do that and blow up the whole place. I think it would be pretty cool to turn Schlatt’s stupid castle into a big crater-”

“Tubbo, no self-destruct button,” Wilbur firmly interrupts the rambling boy with an exasperated smile, rolling his eyes fondly when the bee hybrid huffs while crossing his arms over his chest petulantly. 

“Fine, I’ll stay here then,” Tubbo agrees with a small smile, one that’s more nervous than joyful, but he trusts the three to bring the others back safely. 

“Good,” Techno states while putting yet another potion into his inventory, trying his best to be prepared for anything. “You’ll keep an eye on Tommy and Phil, right?”

Tubbo just nods his head with that little smile still in place, his non-verbal response causing Techno to ask a follow-up question: “Wait, have you even met Phil yet?”

“Oh yeah, me and Bird Man go way back,” Tubbo says without hesitation, his words causing Techno to raise an eyebrow in surprise, the sight making the boy elaborate, “Met him on his first night here and we talked for a bit. I’m also the one who figured out he was related to you guys since he mentioned Tommy’s name when we talked.”

“Guess I owe you my thanks then,” Techno says in a surprised tone, having no idea that Tubbo was part of the reason why he got Phil back.

“Nah, you don’t have to thank me,” Tubbo dismissively says as he waves a hand, smiling up at Techno as he honestly says, “I’m just glad to see you all so happy.”

Both Techno and Wil can’t help but smile at that, that smile still staying on their faces as they finish with the last of their inventory management.

When they finally have everything situated, the two turn to Ranboo and Techno questions, “I’m assumin’ you’ve already prepared your own supplies?”

Once Ranboo nods in confirmation, Techno continues asking, “Think you can teleport the three of us to Manburg then?”

Ranboo’s only response is a soft hum of agreement, followed by the boy stepping toward the two and grabbing one of their hands in each of his own.

And then they’re off to Manburg, the three of them ready to go save their friends.

Chapter Text

As the three teleport, the only sound is a soft vwoop, the world fading to black for a few moments before the trio finds themselves in a different hallway than the Palace one they occupied moments ago.

After taking a few moments to shake off the strange tingling sensation from teleporting, Wilbur pulls out his distress signal, taking note of the cords displayed on the screen before starting out in that direction, the other two following closely behind him. 

The first few hallways are empty, but once they become closer to their destination two guards take notice of them, the older of the two men pulling out a sword as he shouts, “Hey, how did you get in here?!”

As Wilbur goes invisible and slips through the floor without the guards noticing, Techno raises an eyebrow at the man who spoke and says in a bored tone, “That’s a stupid question.”

Then, as a smirk creeps onto his lips, Techno continues, “See, the question you should be askin’ is ‘what’s that behind me?’”

Predictably, both the guards spin around in alarm, a terrified screech leaving the younger of the two as he watches a sword stab through the chest of his companion. 

While trembling violently, the surviving guard begins quickly backing away from Wilbur and his bloody sword, but he doesn’t get very far before he slams into a solid chest, one arm coming forward to pin the guard's arms at his side, the other hand holding an axe to the guard’s throat.

“Wait, wait, d-don’t kill me!” The guard shouts in a panicked tone, straining his neck to try to escape the deadly blade, but there’s nowhere to go with Techno’s hulking form standing right behind him.

“We won’t if you cooperate,” Wilbur assures the frightened guard in a calm tone, ignoring the way Techno mutters ‘lame’ under his breath.

When the guard jerkily nods his head, Wilbur questions, “Do you know anything about where King George is? He’s supposed to be in negotiations with Emperor Schlatt the next couple of days.”

“His Majesty and the guests from Kinoko are in the dining hall,” The guard explains without hesitation, knowing that Emperor Schlatt said that they are to be interrupted under no circumstance, but fuck, he’d rather the emperor be angry because of the disturbance than to die at the hands of these intruders. “I can take you there if you don’t know the way?”

“Show us,” Wilbur demands as he gestures for Techno to release the guard, the bunny hybrid unhappily complying and letting go of the guard.

Before the guard can even think of moving though, he finds himself slammed against the wall, a hand circling around his throat but not yet cutting off his oxygen, that threatening hold accompanied by Wilbur whispering in his ear, “If you even think about double-crossing us or hurting my friends, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

While squeezing his eyes shut tightly, a few tears slipping down his cheeks, the guard shakily agrees, “I won’t do anything stupid. P-Promise.”

“Good,” Wilbur simply says as he releases his hold on the guard, not usually being one to resort to such violent measures, but Dream’s in trouble, and he’d do anything to protect the man he loves. “Come along then, show us where to go. And tell us what to expect once we get there.”

After releasing a shuddering sigh, the guard opens his eyes and pushes himself off the wall, beginning to walk down the hallway on shaky limbs, three people following behind him as closely as his own shadow is.

While trying his best to keep his voice from shaking, the guard begins explaining, “Last I heard, His Majesty was going to have six guards in the room with him, as well as a servant to bring food and refreshments.”

“Only six guards?” Wilbur questions in a tone laced with disbelief, knowing that Dream could take on six people with his eyes closed, so how the hell did they need to press their distress signal. “Are you sure?”

When the guard nods his head, Techno mutters with a growing feeling of worry, “Schlatt must've come up with some kind of plan to take Dream out then, we all know he’d kill those guards easily…”

“There, uh, is a plan,” The guard hesitantly shares, knowing that he shouldn’t be doing this, but maybe he’ll be able to survive if he gives them this information. “I’m not supposed to know about it, but my friend shared it with me last night, just in case things went wrong and I had to step in to save him.”

“Tell me,” Wilbur growls as he stalks toward the guard, willing to force out the information if he has to, anything to help save Dream.

“Okay okay! Fucking calm down, I'll tell you!” The guard exclaims as he raises his hands in surrender while stepping back from the angry phantom hybrid.

Then, after swallowing nervously, the guard begins to explain to the group, “The emperor knows that his nation is falling into ruin, so he’s become… desperate. My friend told me that His Majesty was going to poison the King’s wine, knowing fully that one of his men would drink it instead. And then he’ll only give the milk to cure him if King George gives Kinoko to His Majesty.”

“I’ll fucking kill him,” Wilbur spits in a tone laced with venom, his heart pounding furiously in his chest at the thought of Dream being poisoned. “Bring us there now.”

While keeping his mouth sealed shut, not wanting to make the phantom hybrid’s wrath move onto him, the guard quickly begins leading the way again.

After a few moments of walking in tense, heavy silence, the guard informs the trio, “The dining hall is at the end of this hallway.”

“Let’s go then,” Techno urges the guard when he stops walking.

“I-I brought you here,” He can’t help but point out in a fearful whisper, taking a step back away from the group on trembling legs. “That means you’ll let me go now, right?”

“When did we ever agree to that?” Techno questions as he moves a step closer to the guard, the sight causing him to take another step back.

“I d-don’t have anything else f-for you,” The guard weakly tries to reason as he backs up another step, Techno following suit by moving forward again. "Fucking stay away from me! I-I'll kill you if you come any closer!"

Techno doesn’t say anything to that, just raises an eyebrow at the empty threat while continuing to advance on the terrified guard who’s nearly stumbling over his own feet in his haste to get away.

When the guard feels his back press against a solid wall, his breath hitches in unadulterated terror, a sob getting trapped in his throat as he tries his best not to cry, certain that those tears will not grant him any pity.

If he wasn't outnumbered, or maybe if he had Punz here with him right now, he'd fight back against these intruders, show them exactly who they're trying to fuck with right now.

But he doesn't try to fight back, not when he's all alone, not when he saw how easily the phantom hybrid killed the guard he was patrolling with before they arrived. 

And so, despite the way he tries to hold it in, a sob does manage to escape, the force of it causing his body to shake even harder.

Once that first sob makes an appearance, he can’t seem to stop, crying loud, ugly sobs because this is it, he’s about to fucking die, his body left discarded in the hallway as his blood spills across the floor, just like the guard he was with who had been alive right before this group arrived.

Except, instead of feeling metal slice into his skin, he hears the phantom hybrid call out, “Techno, leave him alone. We have more important things to worry about right now, remember? Just give him a weakness pot and we can deal with him after we kill Schlatt.” 

Knowing that Wilbur’s right and they need to prioritize rescuing their friends, Techno takes a weakness potion out of his inventory and holds it out to the guard.

The guard vigorously shakes his head no, choking out amidst his tears, "No, fuck no, I'm not drinking that shit."

“You either drink it or you die,” Techno bluntly says, a little voice in the back of his mind telling him that he’s being cruel, especially since this guard is probably barely even old enough to be considered an adult, but they can’t just let him wander around and set off an alarm that will have the whole castle after them.

Left with no other option, the guard takes the potion with trembling fingers, sinking down to the ground before taking a sip, grimacing at the bitter taste, but he takes another gulp under the watchful eyes of Techno’s glare. 

The second he’s certain that the guard won’t cause any trouble, Techno begins drinking his own potions, Wilbur and Ranboo also following suit in popping a strength and regen pot, other potions remaining in their hotbar in case they need them.

When Wilbur approaches the door to the dining hall, Techno steps in front of him, holding out a hand and softly saying with a wry smile, “We both know Phil would kill me if he knew I let his kid be the first to walk into a dangerous room.”

Wil can’t help but roll his eyes at that, but he does fall back, allowing Techno to enter the room first.

While he could just simply open the door, Techno has always had a flare for dramatic entrances, this time being no different, not as he uses the power from his strength pot to kick open the door, the wood slamming into the wall with a deafening smack.

Then, as a smirk creeps onto his lips, Techno steps into the room while calling out, "I heard you guys were looking for a rescue?"

That smirk disappears though the second he actually looks around the room, finding two familiar figures laying on the ground, a stranger kneeling beside one and Sapnap worriedly hovering over the other.

The second Sapnap lays eyes on Techno, a strangled whine escapes his throat, that panicked noise begging for his friend to help him save George.

Without hesitation, Techno quickly closes the distance between him and Sapnap, sinking to his knees beside his friend as he uses one hand to pull out a health pot, his other hand resting gently on Sapnap’s arm, hoping that touch will help show the blaze hybrid that everything’s gonna be okay now.

While wincing in sympathy at the gash on George’s cheek, the sight of the king being hurt seeming so wrong, Techno begins carefully coaxing the man to drink the health pot.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Wilbur remains frozen in the doorway, unable to move as he locks his gaze on Dream’s prone form, his body so still that Wil isn’t sure if he’s even alive anymore.

For what feels like years, Wilbur simply watches Dream’s chest, looking to see the familiar rise and fall, but there’s nothing there.

As his breath starts to come faster, Wilbur finally tears his gaze away from Dream, instead turning toward the stranger next to the man he loves.

And not only is a complete stranger right next to Dream’s still form, but that person is also wearing a guard’s uniform. 

All Wilbur can see is red, his vision seeming to become the same tint as the coppery substance still dripping from his sword, ready to mix this person’s blood with the now-drying blood of the guard he’s already killed. 

“Get the fuck away from him!” Wilbur shouts as he begins stomping toward the guard, his sword clutched in a white-knuckled grip as he imagines ramming the weapon through this man’s chest.

“Wil, calm down!” Sapnap exclaims in alarm when he sees Wilbur’s murderous gaze fixated on Punz, but the phantom hybrid doesn’t hear him, doesn’t hear anything over the rush of blood in his ears from his heart that’s threatening to beat right out of his chest. 

When Wilbur keeps approaching Punz with the intent to kill, Ranboo releases a distressed warble, hoping that the sound will help Wilbur come back to his senses, but the man simply ignores him like he did to Sapnap. 

After taking a deep breath to steel himself, always hating confrontation but not seeing any other option in this case, Ranboo teleports in between Wilbur and Punz, holding his arms up in a placating gesture as he watches the phantom hybrid’s every move. 

“Ranboo, get out of my way,” Wilbur snarls as he’s forced to stop advancing toward the guard, wanting to tear the stranger to shreds even more strongly when Punz puts a hand on Dream’s neck, feeling for a thready pulse, but Wil only sees it as another attempt to hurt Dream. 

When Ranboo shakes his head no, Wilbur growls low in the back of his throat, the sound more threatening than anyone’s ever heard the phantom hybrid before.

And even though Ranboo is trembling violently, every instinct screaming at him to teleport away from the danger, he stands his ground and pulls out a sword, making it very clear to Wil that he’s going to have to go through Ranboo to hurt the guard.

Despite the way he wants to make the guard pay for hurting Dream, Wilbur releases a shaky sigh, knowing that it’s not worth it, not if he has to hurt Ranboo in order to get his revenge. 

Once he sends his sword into his inventory, Wilbur turns his attention toward Sapnap and questions through gritted teeth, “Who the hell is the guard?”

“That’s Punz,” Sapnap softly explains, thankful that Wilbur’s finally willing to listen to them. “He’s on our side.”

“Clearly, because that uniform just screams friend to Kinoko,” Wilbur states in a voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm. 

After a few moments of hesitation, Punz speaks up for the first time and says, “I’ve been working undercover here as a guard for years now, but I’ve always belonged to Kinoko. Back when it first started it was literally just me, George, and Sapnap.”

“Is this true?” Wilbur asks as he glances from person to person, seeing both Sapnap and Ranboo nod, their confirmation finally causing some of the tension to leave his body.

Then, in a voice that leaves no room for refusal, Wilbur begins approaching Punz as he demands, “Tell me what’s wrong with Dream.”

“Nothing anymore,” Punz says with a relieved sigh, thankful that he’s no longer in danger of being murdered by this guy. “Schlatt poisoned him, but I got him to drink some milk right before you went to attack me. His pulse is weak, but it’s slowly getting stronger. The poison really did a number on his body since it was in his system for so long, so he might not wake up for a few days. If he does, it’ll be with limited awareness.”

“That’s… more than I expected you to say,” Wilbur murmurs after a few moments of just mulling over Punz’s words. 

With a small smile, Punz says in a teasing tone, “Well I am the best medic in all of Kinoko, so I would hope that I’d be able to explain his condition to you.”

“Really, you’re the best medic?” Wilbur asks in a disbelieving tone, his eyebrows raised in surprise after hearing that.

“Yep,” Punz confidently says while popping the p, his smile fading as he continues in a more somber tone, “Before coming here, I was always the one who went out with Sapnap to raid different hybrid compounds. You never know when you might need a medic on hand.”

“Are you the one who…” Wilbur begins in a hesitant tone, trailing off as he glances away from Punz to look down at Dream, wondering if this is the person who kept Dream alive after he lost his wings.

“I am,” Punz whispers as he tenderly runs a hand through Dream’s hair, the masked man unconsciously leaning into his touch. “He’s one of the strongest people I know.”

“Yeah, he really is,” Wil agrees with a sad smile, slowly reaching out a hand to hold one of Dream’s gloved hands, thinking of how, if it weren’t for Punz, he never would’ve gotten to meet Dream.

Spurred on by that thought, Wilbur murmurs quietly enough that no one else in the room will be able to hear, “Thank you. For saving him.”

“It was my pleasure,” Punz replies just as softly, smiling as he continues, “I’m glad we were able to give him another chance at life.”

Before Wilbur can say anything to that, Techno clears his throat before loudly saying, “I hate to interrupt your little bondin’ moment over there, but we should probably do somethin’ about the guard outside before the weakness pot wears off.”

Instantly, Punz sits up straighter, staring intently at Techno as he questions in a forcefully calm tone, “What guard do you have outside?”

“I dunno, never asked the guy for his name,” Techno casually says with a shrug, standing up while offering, “I can go grab him if you want.”

As a feeling of dread starts to creep up his throat, stealing away his ability to speak, Punz jerkily nods his head.

For a few moments, Techno disappears out into the hallway, his return accompanied by a voice weakly begging, “Wait, pl-please, d-don’t kill me.”

“Let him go!” Punz demands as he leaps to his feet, no longer having a weapon since he gave it to Sapnap, but that doesn’t stop him from clenching his hands into fists, ready to fight the bunny hybrid tooth and nail if it comes down to that.

“Punz!” The guard exclaims in a relieved tone, wanting more than anything to go run to his friend, but Techno’s grip is as strong as iron chains with the way the weakness potion saps all of his energy. 

“So you two know each other,” Techno blandly states the obvious as he glances between the two guards, still holding onto the arm of the one they met out in the hallway.

Even though Punz hates the thought of begging, would rather solve his problems with a sword in his hand instead of bending to someone else’s will, he forces himself to unclench his hands as he weakly pleads, “Look, I know you have no idea who either of us are, but please, don’t hurt him. You can kill every other person in this castle, I don’t give a fuck, but leave him alone.”

Before Techno can say anything to that, George slowly sits up from where he had been laying on the ground, his tone laced with authority as he commands, “Techno, let him go.”

“You sure about that?” Techno asks after a few moments of hesitation, not wanting to tell the king that he’s making a bad decision, but he really doesn’t like the thought of letting two of Schlatt’s guards just roam around in the room with them, especially while Dream’s still out of commission.

Rather than answering Techno’s question, George turns toward Punz and asks a question of his own: “Do you trust him?”

“With my life,” Punz replies without hesitation, meaning those words wholeheartedly.

“Good enough for me then,” George says with an easy smile, trusting Punz’s judgment after all their years spent together.

Unable to argue with something that clear, Techno hesitantly releases the guard’s arm and takes a few steps back.

Instantly, Punz surges forward, carefully wrapping his arms around his friend and leading him to the ground, pulling out a bucket of milk and bringing it to his lips to take away the effect of the weakness potion. 

Once he drinks the milk and is able to move again, the guard quickly wraps his arms around Punz as he whispers in a fearful tone, “Punzo? What are they gonna do to us?”

“Nothing,” Punz firmly states without even a single second of hesitation, glaring daggers at Techno as he promises, “I won’t let them touch you again, Purpled, I promise.”

“Hold on a second, your name is Purpled?” Techno questions in a disbelieving tone, raising an eyebrow in shock when the guard doesn’t correct him. “What kind of name is that? That’s literally just a color with a 'd' added on.”

Before Purpled can try to defend his honor, Wilbur pipes up from where he still sits at Dream’s side and teasingly says, “You’re one to talk, Technoblade.”

“Bruhhh, I’m gettin’ bullied,” Techno loudly complains, his words causing nearly everyone in the room to snicker, even Purpled smiling slightly at that. “This is slander, you’re ruinin’ my reputation, Wilbur. This guy’s supposed to be scared of me, now look at him, he’s literally smiling! You’re not supposed to smile at The Blood God.”

“Wait, you’re The Blood God?” Purpled questions in a tone laced with awe and fear, instinctively shying a little further into Punz’s chest, hoping that his friend will protect him even from someone so fearsome.

“See, told you I have a reputation to uphold, William,” Techno says to Wilbur with a smirk, smiling when the phantom hybrid rolls his eyes at that stupid nickname. 

Then, while turning his attention back to both of the guards, Techno continues in a serious tone, “Even though my days in the area are over, I can assure you that I’m still very skilled at spillin’ some blood.”

Before either Punz or Purpled can respond to that, Sapnap stands up and approaches the bunny hybrid while saying, “Fuck off, Techno. We’ve already established that everyone’s chill with each other, you can stop threatening them.”

“You ruin all my fun,” Techno half-heartedly complains, smiling slightly at the way Sapnap rolls his eyes at that.

Instead of responding to that, Sapnap stops right in front of the two guards and sits on the floor beside them while kindly saying, “Hey, Purpled, I’m Sapnap. Sorry about all that, some of these guys can get very protective. But any friend of Punz is a friend of mine.”

While smiling shyly, Purpled finally lifts his head from the safety of Punz’s chest, looking up at Sapnap as he softly says, “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

With a growing smirk, Sapnap teasingly asks Punz, “You just can’t get enough of me, can you? You even tell your friend all about me?”

“Fuck off,” Punz mumbles under his breath, but a smile tugs at his lips, especially when Sapnap releases a boisterous chuckle at that. 

And as Sapnap’s laughter rings in the air, George’s cut all healed up and the poison gone from Dream’s system, all of them can’t help but think that everything’s gonna be okay.

Sure, they still have to pick up the pieces and deal with the aftermath of Schlatt’s death, but they’ll be okay, especially now that they’re all safe and together. 

Chapter Text

“Hey, Punz?” George asks after a few moments of silence, his gaze thoughtfully fixated on the camera up in the top corner of the room. “Do you know if that camera’s been recording this whole time?”

“I think so, yeah,” Punz replies as he pulls away from his hug with Purpled, moving to stand up and approach the camera to get a better look at it.

“Think you could figure out how to send that footage out to everyone?” George questions with a growing smile, coming up with an idea for how to let everyone know what Schlatt tried to do to them.

“I don’t kn-” Punz starts to say, having no idea how to work the camera, but he doesn’t get a chance to properly start before he’s interrupted.

While turning to face George, Purpled says in a confident tone, “I can do it. Just give me ten minutes and I’ll have it broadcasted to every device out there.”

“Thank you, Purpled,” George sincerely says with a warm smile as he inclines his head toward the guard, glad that they have another person to help them through this unexpected turn of events. 

As Purpled gets to work on the camera, George begins telling the rest of his group what he’s planning, nodding along to any suggestions they give him on what he should say when he shows the world what Schlatt tried to do to them today. 

By the time Purpled has the camera all ready to go, George has practiced his speech a few times over, still not too confident in his delivery, but he knows that he can’t delay this speech. So even though he’d normally spend a lot more time planning before sending out a message to his citizens, let alone the entire world, he knows that every hybrid in Manburg deserves to know that they are finally free from Schlatt’s tyrannical rule. 

“Where do you want the broadcast to start from?” Purpled asks without looking up from his work, his words causing George to hum thoughtfully as he considers it.

After a few moments of thinking, George informs the guard, “Start it just before Dream got poisoned, and have it end once help arrived. That way everyone can see exactly what Schlatt tried to do to us. And is it possible for me to send out a live message once the footage is finished?”

“Yeah, we should be able to do that too,” Purpled says as he goes back through the footage, finding the tailend of the negotiations just before Dream drank the poisoned wine. “Alright, we’re broadcasting, every device out there should be showing this footage now.”

“Thanks, Purpled, this is really great,” George appreciatively says with a sincere smile, his grin growing wider when Purpled just ducks his head embarrassedly in response, Punz elbowing the guard good-naturedly while chuckling at his flushed cheeks. 

As the footage plays for the world to see, George gets into position, sitting in one of the chairs that are facing the camera, looking up at the lens as he waits for Purpled to let him know that they’ve switched to live feed.

After a few moments of just sitting there waiting though, George glances over at Dream, a worried frown tugging at his lips as he looks at his unconscious friend, desperately hoping that the poison didn’t cause any permanent damage since it took them so long to get him milk to take away the effects. 

When Wilbur notices George’s worried look directed at Dream, the phantom hybrid gently asks him, “Do you wanna hold him as you do your speech? Might help you feel less nervous…”

George instantly nods his head at that, eagerly opening his arms and pulling Dream close to his chest when Wilbur carefully hands him over. 

For a few moments, George just holds him close, letting the steady breaths that Dream releases help soothe some of his fear and worry, the rise and fall of his chest reassuring him that Dream really is okay. 

Then while burying his face in Dream’s hair, George whispers a mournful, “I’m so sorry you got hurt. He’ll never be able to hurt you again though, I promise.”

Once Purpled informs him that they’ll be switching to live feed in 30 seconds, George reluctantly pulls away from Dream, sitting up straight like a proper king and pushing down his emotions so the public won’t see just how worried he is about his best friend. 

Ever so gently, George shifts Dream’s mask slightly, making sure that there’s no way for the camera to see even an inch of his face, the king’s arms wrapping around his friend and holding him close once he finishes. 

As Purpled begins counting down from five on his fingers, George takes a deep, steadying breath, the numbers dwindling far too fast until suddenly it’s time to make what might be the most important speech of his entire life. 

“Greetings everyone,” George states in a tone that sounds much more confident than he feels, no smile on his face like he would usually have when talking to his people. “For those of you who don’t know, I’m King George, leader of Kinoko Kingdom.” 

“To start, the footage you all just watched was real. Emperor Schlatt is now dead. He attacked us during peaceful negotiations, poisoned one of my men in an attempt to kill me, then threatened me with a crossbow when that failed. Because Emperor Schlatt attacked us unprovoked during a time dedicated for peace, the hybrid who killed him will not be punished in any way.”

After taking another deep breath to help steel himself for what’s to come, George continues, “I know that it is now within my right to crown myself the new king of Manburg. For those of you unaware, attacking another king is equivalent to declaring war, and the victory would get all the spoils, including the defeated nation.”

As a bitter smile slips onto his lips, George softly says, “But I know that everyone in Manburg has already had to deal with a ruler being forced on them, and I don’t ever want to be like Schlatt. Therefore, I will be king only for a week’s time, then we will hold an election so the people of Manburg can choose who they want to be their leader. I would be honored if you all still chose me to rule, but I won’t force that onto you all.” 

Then as his voice turns cold as ice, George firmly states, “While I might not become the future king of Manburg, for this next week I am the one in charge. And as my first decree, I am officially freeing every hybrid in Manburg. After today, if anyone is caught mistreating a hybrid or keeping them here against their will, that person will be charged with treason.”

“Hybrids have been hurt for far too long, and I won’t stand for it anymore,” George says in a tone that leaves no room for argument, unable to help but glance around the room at his friends as he continues, “My friends and I have been trying for years to free as many hybrids from Manburg as we could, but I know that there are still so many people out there who have been separated from their families. I want each and everyone of you to know that I am so, so sorry for that. I’m sorry that we weren’t able to find and rescue you, that we weren’t able to reunite you with your families. But as of now, you are free.”

“To all the hybrids of Manburg, you’re free.” 

“If you don’t have anywhere safe to go, Kinoko welcomes you with open arms,” George says with the most welcoming smile he can manage, hoping that these hybrids will trust him enough to come to Kinoko where they can finally be safe and cared for. “Kinoko has been and always will be a safe place for hybrids. We help families get back together again and offer a place where hybrids can live in peace away from humans-”

While stepping into the view of the camera, Sapnap interrupts George to ask, “Can I say something too?”

“Of course,” George agrees without hesitation, a more genuine smile tugging at his lips.

Even though Sapnap’s hands shake at the idea of speaking to so many people, he knows that most hybrids won’t believe George since he’s a human, so he says as confidently as he can, “I know that most of you have learned to never trust humans, but I hope that you’ll believe me when I say that George is a good person. I’ve been by his side for over a decade, we built Kinoko together because he saw how hybrids like me were mistreated and wanted to do something about it. We’ve helped bring so many families back together that Schlatt tore apart, and we won’t stop until everyone gets to see their loved ones again.”

Then in a spur of the moment decision, Sapnap adds on with a bit of desperation creeping into his tone, “And Puffy and Drista, if you’re listening to this, please come to Kinoko. Your family misses you so much.”

After saying that, Sapnap rushes over to where he had been standing before, sagging into Techno’s embrace when his friend offers him a hug, the bunny hybrid whispering praises into his ear as Sapnap’s whole body trembles from the adrenaline of doing that.

“Thanks, Sapnap,” George sincerely says as he gives his friend a wide smile, afterward turning back to the camera as he finishes, “You’ll all see me again tomorrow as I share more about how the future election will work. For now though, I once again invite all the hybrids in Manburg to come to Kinoko. Today we will be bringing horses and carts here to help take any injured hybrids to Kinoko who can’t walk there themselves. The Kinoko-Manburg border is officially open now, so those of you who are well enough to make the journey yourselves are free to do so at any time.”

“I hope that today will mark the start of a new beginning, one in which Manburg can be a place filled with prosperity rather than hardship. Thank you.”

George then nods his head to Purpled, the guard giving him a thumbs up once the camera feed stops broadcasting to the world.

Now that he no longer has millions of eyes on him, George instantly sags back against his chair, releasing a loud groan as he mutters, “That was exhausting.”

“You did great though,” Wilbur assures him without hesitation, the others expressing their agreement too, those kind words causing George to smile tiredly.

After a few moments of silence, George stands up while still cradling Dream close to his chest, smiling as he asks his friends, “You guys ready to finally get these hybrids home?”

“Hell yeah!” Sapnap excitedly shouts as he raises a fist high in the air, his reaction causing everyone in the room to smile or laugh.

“Let’s bring them home then,” George replies with his smile still in place, then he leaves the room, almost everyone following behind him as they begin planning their nation-wide rescue mission. 

But both Wilbur and Ranboo stay behind, the two glancing at each other before fixing their solemn gazes on the ender dragon wings that are hanging up on the wall. 

“Think you can teleport those back home?” Wilbur softly asks Ranboo, pointing at the wings as he speaks even though they both know exactly what he’s talking about. 

Ranboo vwoops an affirmative noise, then approaches the wings, sadness shining clearly in his heterochromatic eyes as he looks at his friend’s wings that are up on the wall like some kind of sick, twisted trophy. 

As Ranboo takes the wings off the wall and holds the display case that they’re in close to his chest, Wilbur murmurs a quiet, “You’ll be careful with them, yeah?”

Without hesitation, Ranboo nods his head, not wanting anything bad to happen to Dream’s wings ever again. 

“Okay,” Wilbur breathes out with a relieved sigh, tears stinging the corners of his eyes as he continues, “Thank you. He’ll appreciate you being gentle with them. It’s been far too long since anyone was.”

Ranboo just hums sadly at that, knowing that Wilbur’s right about Dream’s wings being mistreated for much too long. 

After giving the wings one last look, Wilbur reluctantly says, “I should probably go catch up with the others. I’ll tell them that you just teleported home instead of walking back with us. And you can go ahead and put his wings in your room for now, just make sure they’re someplace safe, okay?”

Ranboo nods his agreement, then he teleports out of the room and back to Kinoko, carefully storing Dream’s wings underneath his bed. 

While biting his lip in concentration, Ranboo grabs one of the plushies off his bed and places it down next to the case with the wings, the enderman plushie now keeping the wings company so they never have to be alone again. 

Meanwhile, Wilbur looks around the dining room one last time to make sure that they didn’t forget anything, his eyes narrowing as they land on Schlatt’s corpse. 

“Hope you enjoy hell, prick,” Wilbur mutters as he kicks Schlatt’s body, knowing that the bastard deserves so much worse after everything he did to Dream and so many others, but Wil’s gotta admit that it does feel good to kick him.

With a heavy sigh, Wilbur exits the dining hall and begins rushing down the hallway to catch up with the rest of the group, being able to walk through walls making it easy for him to find the others. 

When the group questions where Ranboo went, he tells them that the enderman hybrid didn’t see a point in walking home when he can just teleport, the others laughing softly in agreement at that. 

At some point George and him lock gazes, the king raising an eyebrow at him in question. Without hesitation, Wilbur nods his head, his reaction causing George to smile as he holds Dream a little tighter, happy to know that Dream will finally get his wings back. 

And if luck continues to be on their side, maybe his best friend will get his family back soon too.

Chapter Text

Two days pass before Dream finally wakes from his poison-induced sleep. During those two, seemingly endless days George threw himself into his work, putting his all into getting every single hybrid out of Manburg, no longer limited by the numerous laws that Schlatt had put into place. Thanks to these tireless days, hundreds of hybrids are free, so many families living safely in Kinoko now. Their hybrid rehabilitation centers are nearly at max capacity, but George wouldn’t want to change a thing. He’s imagined this moment for years now, imagining the day when he’d finally be able to free everyone from the torment that Schlatt caused. 

When Dream finally wakes up, it’s during one of the rare moments that George isn’t busy, the king sitting in a chair next to his friend’s infirmary bed as he hopes that the man will finally wake up soon.

A low groan sounds throughout the otherwise silent room, that weak sound causing George’s gaze to snap toward his friend, a hopeful, “Dream?” slipping from his lips.

Emerald green eyes slowly crack open, only to immediately shut again when the light blinds him, the sight causing George to murmur a soft apology as he stands up to shut off the light.

Dream opens his eyes again with much more success now that the brightness is gone, his bleary vision focusing on a familiar royal attire, his cape askew and his clothes far more rumpled than Dream’s ever seen them, but he’d recognize those kind brown eyes anywhere.

“George,” Dream breathes out the name reverently, raising a trembling hand to touch George’s cheek where he immediately pinpoints a scar that wasn’t there the last time he saw his friend. “You’re okay…”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” George confirms, gently taking Dream’s hand off his cheek so he can hold his friend’s calloused hand in his own. “How about you? Are you feeling alright?”

But Dream doesn’t answer his question, a haunted look entering his eyes as he brokenly whispers, “I-I thought you were dead. I heard you hit the ground and Sapnap scream, but I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do fucking anything and I thought I l-lost y-you-”

“Hey, hey, shhhhh, it’s okay,” George gently reassures him as he pulls his best friend into his arms, hating the way Dream immediately begins sobbing against his chest, clinging to him for dear life. “I’m right here, Dream. I’m not going anywhere, promise.”

“Pl-Please, d-don’t leave m-m-me,” Dream chokes out in between sobs, burying his face against George’s chest as he tries to convince himself that he didn’t lose his best friend, that he didn’t fail yet another person he was supposed to always keep safe. “I-I can’t lose anyone else.”

With a sad, pained smile, George holds Dream a little tighter as he softly says, “I know, Dream, I know. But I’m right here, I’m okay. He just gave me a scratch, that’s all. The scar makes me look kinda cool anyways.”

“I-It shouldn’t have h-happened to begin-n with,” Dream protests as his sobs start to come to an end, sniffling as he continues, “I should’ve protected yo-”

Unable to continue listening to Dream trying to say that he should’ve done more to keep him safe, George pulls back from their embrace slightly, holding Dream’s face in his hands so he can look him in the eyes as he firmly says, “Don’t even go there. You literally drank poisoned wine so I wouldn’t, don’t you dare say that you should’ve done more. I’m lucky you’re even alive right now, Dream. Do you even realize how close you were to dying?”

When Dream doesn’t respond, just closes his eyes against the threat of tears, George continues in a heartbroken tone, “Another minute or two and you would’ve been dead. I almost watched you die and there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it. You almost died protecting me, so don’t you ever think you should’ve done more.”

“I’m sorry,” Dream mutters as a few tears slip down his cheeks, George tenderly wiping them away with his thumb.

“You’re not supposed to apologize, idiot,” George shakily says in a teasing tone, smiling when Dream releases a weak, wet chuckle at that.

With a small smile still in place, Dream leans forward against George, resting his head on the king’s chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat helping show Dream that George really is okay, that he didn’t lose his best friend like he was so sure he had.

As the two continue sitting together, George informs Dream of all that he’s missed, telling his friend about Schlatt’s death and his temporary role as Manburg’s king, sharing with him how many hybrids they’ve helped reunite with their families.

And when Dream hesitantly asks if there’s any sign of Drista or Puffy, George hates that the only answer he can give is, “There’s still some hybrids from Manburg that we haven’t checked in on yet, so hopefully they’re with them. Sapnap will be meeting everyone within the next few days, so we’ll know soon.”

George can’t blame Dream for going terribly quiet after that, any attempts at getting his friend to talk being met with nothing but melancholy, mournful silence, the king grieving the separation that’s been forced upon Dream and his family right alongside his friend. 

After a little while of George telling Dream anything that comes to mind regarding what his friend missed the past couple days, there’s a knock on the door, the sound causing Dream to pull anyway from George with a confused furrow to his eyebrows.

“Come in,” George calls out with a small smile, glad that Dream is finally going to see one of the things that he’s been working hard on the past couple of days.

When the door opens, a creeper hybrid walks inside holding a set of papers, the sight causing Dream to sit up straight as he asks in a shocked tone, “Sam?! What are you doing here?!”

“Hey, Dream,” Sam greets with a smile, the creeper hybrid’s smile growing even wider when Foolish comes barreling into the room, his best friend throwing himself onto Dream’s bed and practically tackling his older brother in a hug.

“Dream, you’re awake!” Foolish happily exclaims as he squeezes Dream in a tight hug, his older brother laughing fondly and happily.

With a teasing smile, Dream complains good-naturedly, “Easy there, you’re gonna break my ribs. Not everyone’s freakishly strong like you.”

“Sorry,” Foolish sheepishly murmurs, the totem-hybrid pulling back from his brother out of fear of crushing him, but that worry eases when Dream pulls him right back in close, holding Foolish so his little brother’s head rests under his chin, his arms wrapped around his midsection.

“What are you guys doing here?” Dream asks with a wide smile, always happy to see his brother and Sam, but they never stop by unannounced like this.

“We saw you get hurt on the broadcast,” Foolish mutters as he buries his face against Dream’s chest, his words causing Dream to grimace as he holds his brother tighter. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

With a sad smile, Dream confirms, “I’m alright, promise.”

Before Foolish can say anything more to that, Sam chimes in from where he stands by the door, “And King George asked for my help with building something for you.”

“For me?” Dream asks in a confused tone, an eyebrow raised as he looks between the king and the creeper hybrid. “What are you guys up to?”

“You’re gonna love it, don’t worry,” George assures him with a smile, the excitement in his brown eyes helping to ease some of Dream’s uncertainty. “Show him the designs.”

As Sam walks over to give Dream the papers he brought with him, George adds on, “Sam and I talked some ideas together and then he drew up the sketches. You can always say no, but I thought you’d really like this.”

While nervously chewing on his bottom lip, Dream accepts the papers, glancing back and forth between George and Sam one more time before looking down at the first paper.

And oh wow, he wasn’t expecting that…

What the hell…

On it is a full-body sketch, the actual person not being very detailed, but there’s one part of it where great care went into drawing each and every little line.

It’s a set of wings.

Ender dragon wings.

“I-I don’t understand,” Dream chokes out against the tightness steadily rising in his throat, hating the way heat has begun to build behind his eyes as he tries his best to fight back tears.

“Dream, we got your wings back,” George gently explains, a strangled whine leaving Dream after hearing those words. “And we created some possible designs for prosthetic wings if you’d like to have them be a part of you again.”

When Dream doesn’t say anything, too busy reeling in shock to even think of speaking, Sam adds on with a soft, “The wings would have to be reinforced with metal, so they’d be too heavy to fly with, but you’d still have full range of mobility and feeling in them. You could fight with them. You could wrap them around someone when you hug them, Foolish was telling me about how you’d always do that. If the thought of wearing them hurts too much though-”

“Where are they?” Dream interrupts, his tone laced with nothing but desperation and a deep need, one that feels like it’ll suffocate him if he doesn’t get his wings back right this fucking second.

“They’re in the workroom, still in the case since none of us wanted to touch them without your permission,” Sam tells him without hesitation, but Dream doesn’t even hear all his words, the man already rushing out of the infirmary despite the worried calls of his name. 

Quickly, Dream makes his way through the hallways toward the workroom, ignoring anyone who tries to get his attention along the way, the ender dragon hybrid on a mission, every fiber of his being screaming get them back, get them back, wings wings wings wings wings.

That mantra only stops when he slams into someone, the force of their collision sending them both sprawling to the ground. 

“Oh, hey, Dre,” Wilbur says with a cheeky grin, seeming entirely unbothered by the fact that he’s now on the ground. “Glad to see you up and about again.” 

Dream doesn’t respond to him, just jumps to his feet and begins making his way toward the workroom again. 

If he was anyone else, Wilbur would have a hard time keeping up with Dream’s fast pace, but as it is he just walks through one of the walls whenever he falls behind, appearing in front of Dream to try and ask him what’s going on but only getting ignored.

Finally getting sick of not receiving an answer to any of his questions, Wilbur grabs Dream by the wrist, trying to stop him so he can figure out what the fuck has gotten into his friend.

He expects an annoyed, snarky remark from Dream, or perhaps for his friend to just angrily yank his wrist out of his grip, but Dream doesn’t do either of those. 

Instead he’s met with a low, menacing growl, Dream’s eyes flashing from their usual emerald green to a deep purple, the color so dark that it reminds Wilbur of looking into the void, the never-ending blackness found within The End.

While quickly letting go of Dream, Wil can’t help but mutter, “Well, this is new.”

He’s never seen Dream get lost in his instincts before, but he instantly recognizes the signs, his nonverbal nature and sudden aggressiveness clearly showcasing this unexpected change. And if not for that, his eyes changing color is a dead fucking giveaway. 

Wilbur doesn’t know what suddenly triggered Dream’s instincts, but there’s no way in hell that he’s just gonna walk away and not find out, the phantom hybrid continuing to follow Dream, just this time from a slightly farther distance so he won’t get attacked. 

Wilbur would be lying if he said that he wasn’t confused when he sees Dream enter the workroom where most of the building and welding in the Palace happens. 

Why is Dream going in there, especially when it seems like he’s in such a hurry to be somewhere?

Knowing that the only way to find out is to follow him inside, Wil slips into the workroom behind Dream, his eyes immediately locking onto where Dream is bent down in front of one of the tables. 

“Dre?” Wilbur hesitantly questions, feeling terribly lost right now, especially since he’s never, ever seen Dream get like this before. “What’s going on?”

Dream quickly spins around to face him, the man growling low in the back of his throat as he clutches something to his chest.

When Wilbur glances down at the object, Dream’s growling turns louder and more threatening, seeming like he’s torn between lunging to attack Wil or staying there so he can keep holding whatever’s in his arms. 

And once Wilbur sees what he’s holding, the strange behavior finally makes sense. 

Dream was just trying to get his wings back, and the aggressiveness is his way of making sure that no one tries to take them from him again. 

While raising his hands in surrender, Wilbur backs away from Dream, the ender dragon hybrid’s now-purple eyes intently watching his every move, but his growling starts to lessen the further Wil gets.

Once his back hits the door, Wilbur slowly moves so he’s sitting down on the ground, trying to make himself seem as small and unthreatening as possible. 

It seems to work, Dream’s attention leaving Wilbur and instead looking solely at his wings, his growling being replaced by a deep rumbling sound, one that reminds Wil of a cat purring. 

“You happy to have them back?” Wilbur softly asks as he finally drops his hands from their raised position, holding them together in his lap as he continues watching Dream, the ender dragon hybrid paying him no mind. “I bet it’s a relief to finally be with your wings again. Prime knows it’s been far too long.”

Dream continues to ignore him, the man simply rumbling away as he holds his wings close, the sight causing Wilbur to smile sadly.

“I’m glad you’ve finally got them again,” Wilbur continues, and he means every word, so happy to know that Dream won’t have to worry about his wings being harmed ever again. “Might be nicer though if you take them out of the case, that way you can actually feel them.”

Dream finally tears his gaze away from his wings at that, the man’s head cocking to the side as he stares Wilbur down.

And Wil knows that it’s probably so incredibly stupid, but he can’t help but ask, “Want me to help get them out for you?”

For a long, long time, Dream just stares at Wil, his gaze so different with those purple eyes, but Wilbur still knows how to read his friend, even this new side of him.

So when Dream gives him a barely perceptible nod, Wilbur rises to his feet and begins approaching his friend, pausing whenever a growl slips out of him and only continuing once Dream stops again. 

Once he finally reaches Dream, he doesn’t dare try to take the case away, instead he kneels down in front of Dream so he can get a better look at the latch on the bottom of the case. 

It takes a few moments, but finally the top of the case springs open with a loud pop, the sound causing that pleased rumble to start up again in Dream’s chest.

Cautiously, Wilbur rises to his feet again, getting ready to go back to his spot by the door, but a hand grabbing his arm stops him.

“What’s up?” Wil asks as he freezes, trying his best to keep any fear from leaking into his voice. 

Dream’s gloved hand finds his, pressing Wil’s fingers underneath the glove so he touches bare skin, that contact causing Wilbur to ask, “Want me to take your glove off?”

When Dream nods, Wilbur softly says, “You’re gonna have to put down the case, don’t want you to drop it.”

Dream growls loudly at that, clearly showing his displeasure, but Wil isn’t having any of it, the phantom hybrid firmly saying, “I’m not helping you until you set it down. I don't want to see you be devastated if you accidentally drop them.”

With a huff that Wilbur’s sure would be a fuck off if Dream could speak right now, the ender dragon hybrid does as he asked, setting the case on the table, but his hands never stray far from it even as Wilbur maneuvers them so he can take off the gloves. 

The second he’s no longer wearing the gloves, Dream tears open the case, a whine escaping him as he finally places his hands on his wings after far, far too long. 

It’s weird, being able to touch them but not feel the sensation on his wings, but it’s so, so wonderful after all the time he’s spent away from them, tears slipping down his cheeks as he happily rumbles away. 

Slow enough that Dream can pull away if he wants to, Wilbur comes up behind him and wraps his arms around Dream’s stomach, holding him close as he murmurs, “You’re gonna look so beautiful with them on, I can’t wait to see it. You’ll be so fucking badass fighting with these wings on your back.”

Dream releases a happy little sound at that, leaning back against Wil as he continues gently and reverently running his hands over his wings. 

By the time the workroom door opens, Dream’s still deep in his instincts, but he shows no signs of his earlier aggression, this time spent with Wilbur seeming to have shown him that he has no reason to fear his wings being taken. 

With a fond eyeroll as he steps into the room, George teasingly says, “I should’ve known you’d find him first, Wil. I swear you’ve got some kind of sixth sense when it comes to Dream.”

“Guilty,” Wilbur says with a smirk as he continues holding Dream close, not wanting to ruin Dream’s calm by turning around to see the others. 

“How is he?” George asks as he approaches the two, his voice filled with concern.

“High as hell on instincts right now,” Wilbur wryly says, snorting with laughter when Dream growls at him for saying that. “He was really aggressive at first, but I got him to calm down. He definitely needs to be here when you make the prosthetic though, there’s no way to separate them unless you want to be attacked."

“Noted,” Sam mutters under his breath, resigning himself to having to create the prosthetic wings under the scrutiny of a literal dragon. “I guess the plus side of him being here for it is that he can tell me exactly what he does and doesn’t want done to them.”

“Yep, he’ll definitely growl at you if you fuck up,” Wilbur cheekily says, snickering as Dream once again growls at him. “See what I mean?”

“Alright, who all's staying here while I do this then?” Sam grumbles, but Foolish can easily see the way he’s trying hard not to smile. “Might as well make a party out of it since there’s no chance of me working alone.”

Foolish and Wilbur immediately declare that they’ll be staying, but George has to leave despite not wanting to, the life of a king never allowing for much downtime. 

After bidding George farewell, the four of them settle into their respective places, Foolish sitting at a nearby table so he can sketch up some future builds he’ll do, Sam sitting on one side of the table that has the wings, and Dream sitting in the chair next to him so they both are close enough to touch the wings. Well, technically Wilbur is the one sitting in the chair and Dream is resting on his lap, but Wil thinks that’s practically the same difference despite the way Sam keeps trying not to laugh at their clinginess. 

For each step of the way, Sam shows Dream the mechanical part, lets him hold it, then explains what it’ll do. And after all that, he waits patiently for Dream to give him a nod of approval. Or for him to throw it across the room in disgust, something that amuses Foolish and Wilbur to no end while causing Sam to roll his eyes. 

It’s a long, long process, but once the wings are finally done, Sam knows that it’ll all be worth it, especially when he sees the smile on Foolish’s face because his older brother finally has his wings back. 

Every step of the way is certainly worth it to make them happy.

Chapter Text

“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” Wilbur softly says, his hand on Dream’s shoulder giving a reassuring squeeze before he moves his arm away.

Slowly, hesitantly, Dream cracks open his eyes, allowing him to come face to face with his own reflection in the full-length mirror.

His eyes are immediately drawn to the anomaly in his reflection, instantly zeroing in on the part of him that’s so different, the part of him that’s been missing for years now.

His wings.

Jet black wings span from his back down toward the floor, the tips of his wings nearly brushing against the quartz below. The void-dark color is offset by the shiny glint of metal, sterling silver lining the underside of his wings, that metal giving the appendages the support to move like they once naturally did. Flecks of deep purple flash as he shifts his wings from side to side, those splotches catching in the light and showing off the secondary color that’s hidden within the depths of the black in his wings. 

Feeling like he’s in a trance, Dream steps toward the mirror, raising up a hand to touch the glass, stopping just shy of when his skin would meet the cool material. 

Now that he’s closer, Dream flares his wings out to the side, unable to help but grin widely, well aware of just how deadly his wings are now.

He wanted to keep the integrity of his wings, didn’t want to add anything more than what was required to support the wings so they’ll have the strength to move, but he did indulge in one modification that Sam suggested. 

Rather than his wings stopping wherever the ending points are, Dream now has metal tips that are fully detectable. But when they are on his wings, they’re sharp as a blade, making them perfect for slashing anyone who may try to attack his wings in a fight if they deem the appendage to be a weak spot. 

Despite being able to move his wings and watch it happen in the mirror, it’s hard to wrap his mind around it, that the person staring back at him is actually him.

Because the fact that he finally has his wings back…

Fuck, it doesn’t even feel real.

“What do you think of them?” Sam asks with a wide smile from where he and George stand next to the door, his words finally breaking the mesmerized silence that Dream had settled into. “If you’d like any modifications, I’m happy to make them-”

“They’re perfect,” Dream interrupts before Sam can finish, and even though his voice is terribly shaky from the emotions that he’s trying to choke back, he means it wholeheartedly. “I love them. T-Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, Dream,” Sam says as his smile somehow grows even wider. “I’ll be sticking around here with Foolish for a few more days, so if you do end up wanting any changes just come find me.”

Dream just nods his head at that, knowing that, the second he opens his mouth now, the only sound that’ll come out will be a sob.

As soon as Sam leaves the room, Dream can’t hold it in anymore, the ender dragon hybrid bringing a hand up to his mouth as a sob tears through him, the force of it causing his whole body to shake.

“Come here,” Wilbur murmurs as he once again places a hand on Dream’s shoulders, using that touch to guide Dream so they’re both sitting on the ground.

When George sits down too and hugs him from behind, Dream can’t help but sob harder, the sensation of his wings pressing up against someone as he’s being held feeling so fucking nice. 

“Bet it’s good to have them back,” George softly says as he continues holding Dream close, him and Wilbur sharing fond smiles over Dream’s shoulders, both of them so happy that their best friend finally has this part of him back.

All Dream can do is nod, clutching desperately to the front of Wilbur’s shirt with one hand, his other still pressed to his lips as he tries his best to stifle the sounds of his cries.

Ever so gently, Wilbur pulls Dream’s hand away, instead holding it tenderly, his thumb stroking the back of Dream’s knuckles, that kind touch telling Dream that Wil’s right there to pick up the pieces as he falls apart. 

And fall apart he does.

The years worth of pretending like he didn’t have his wings so cruelly torn away from him all come crashing down, all the grief and anguish that he’s had to hide come bubbling to the surface, that pain far too strong for him to even think of hiding it now that he finally has his wings again.

It takes a long, long time, but finally Dream runs out of tears to cry, leaving him sniffling and trembling in the arms of two of the very few people who know the hell he’s been through.

“Feeling better?” George asks with a sad smile, his arms gently squeezing Dream from where they’re wrapped around his midsection.

“Y-Yeah,” Dream replies with another sniffle, cringing at how wrecked his voice sounds now from all his crying.

Now that the overwhelming need to cry has passed enough to let him think, Dream slowly gives his wings a little flap, laughing breathlessly at the fact that he can actually do that now and how George grumbles good-naturedly when the hybrid's wings smack against him. 

Dream doesn’t understand exactly how all this works, doesn’t know what kind of redstone magic Sam cooked up for his wings to function the way they do, but damn, he can actually use his wings again…

He can move them however he wants, he can feel it when someone touches them, he can even wrap them around someone when hugging them like he’s missed so dearly.

If he could fly again, they’d be perfect.

But he knows that’s not the reality, understands that the metal used to reinforce his wings so they can actually move makes them far too heavy to fly.

That’s okay though.

After years of not being able to even look at his wings, getting to move them and feel their comforting weight again means everything to him. 

That’s why, before he can really think about what he’s doing, Dream blurts out the command: “Touch them.”

For a few moments, the two hesitate, unsure of what to do until George softly asks, “What do you want us to do?”

“Anything. Everything. I don’t know-” Dream starts to say before cutting himself off, not sure exactly what he wants right now, but just knowing that he needs to feel hands on his wings, just like how Drista and Puffy and Foolish would all gently touch his wings as they cuddled together.

“Do you have somewhere to be for a while?” Wilbur asks George once Dream stops talking, knowing that it’d be better for them to both take care of Dream, but he knows how busy it is for the life of a king.

“Yeah, I got a meeting in fifteen minutes,” George admits, even though it sounds like the thought of leaving Dream alone absolutely kills him. “You’ll take care of him, right?”

“Of course I will,” Wilbur replies without hesitation, his grip on Dream tightening ever so slightly, knowing that yeah, he’s definitely gonna be here for Dream, especially since getting his wings back is amazing. 

While reluctantly pulling away from Dream, George gives Wilbur a halfhearted smile and murmurs as he stands, “Thank you, you’re the best.”

Wilbur just gives him a smile in return, hoping that the expression is reassuring, and it must be since George’s shoulders seem to lose a bit of their tension as he begins walking toward the door. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Wilbur softly says as he shifts Dream in his embrace, picking Dream up being a bit more challenging with his wings now, but he manages to do it without squishing him too much. 

And as Wilbur begins carrying him toward his room, Dream can’t help but give a happy, sleepy smile to the phantom-hybrid, feeling absolutely elated because a part of him has finally, finally found its way home.  

Chapter Text

With Dream held snugly in his arms, Wilbur makes his way through the Palace hallways, the phantom hybrid feeling thankful that they don’t run into anyone along the way, a selfish little part of him wanting to be the only one to care for Dream while he’s so deep in his instincts. 

“Come on, let's get you to bed,” Wil says as he opens the door to his room and gently places Dream down on the bed, the man clutching to him tightly and letting out a displeased sound when Wilbur tries to walk away to close the door.

“Okay, fine, I’ll stay right here,” He murmurs with a fond smile as he lays down next to his friend, Dream immediately wrapping one of his wings around him, surrounding them both in a pleasant warmth that causes Wil to smile even wider.

After a few moments of just basking in the wonderful feeling of the two of them side by side, Wilbur moves a hand away from Dream’s back, instead holding one of the dragon hybrid’s hands and giving it a gentle squeeze as he sincerely says, “It's so awesome that you finally have your wings back. They’re beautiful.” 

Instead of responding verbally, Dream releases a low, happy rumble deep in his chest and as he takes Wilbur's hand and places it on one of his wings, the touch immediately causing him to rumble even louder, that contact electrifying, as if there’s lighting coursing through his veins.

“You want me to touch them?” Wilbur hesitantly asks, worried about possibly messing something up, especially since Dream’s wings seem oh so precious and delicate, he’d really hate to cause any harm to them.

But Dream seems to share no such worries, the dragon hybrid eagerly nodding his head in excitement, his reaction causing Wilbur to chuckle softly.

When Wil carefully begins running a hand down his wing, an even louder and happier rumble is pulled from Dream, a blissed-out expression on his face as he does his best to close the remaining distance between them, the dragon hybrid’s head pressed against Wilbur’s chest, Dream’s own chest seeming to rumble away in time with that heartbeat.

And that’s how time passes for the two of them, hours go by spent holding each other close as Wilbur continues gently petting one of Dream’s wings, the dragon hybrid’s rumbles slowly tapering off as he grows sleepier and sleepier, until eventually he drifts off to sleep in Wilbur’s arms.

With a loud yawn, feeling tired as well now, Wilbur’s hand comes to a stop in its repetitive motions, the appendage resting on Dream’s wing as he whispers, “Sleep well, Dre. Love you.”

While Dream doesn’t respond, the man fast asleep in his arms, Wilbur knows that he certainly reciprocates that love. 

If it wasn’t obvious before, it certainly would be now. This love is shown so clearly in the trust that Dream grants him, the trust of not only falling asleep in his embrace, but doing so while so deep in his instincts, while allowing Wil to touch his wings.

As Wilbur too drifts off to sleep, he does it with a smile on his face, feeling lucky to be oh so loved. 

In a different part of Kinoko Kingdom, Sapnap steps into one of their many hybrid rehabilitation facilities, the blaze hybrid having been in and out of them almost non-stop since their Manburg takeover, this having led to the biggest influx of hybrids in Kinoko that they’ve ever had.

His eyes scan the length of the room, seeing groups of hybrids all eating lunch at the different tables scattered throughout the cafeteria, the man happy to see that most of them have smiles on their faces.

Some do sit by themselves though, so Sapnap makes an effort to go speak to each and every one of them, asking them how they’re doing, if they’re coping okay with the abrupt change of lifestyle since coming to Kinoko, and if there’s anything he can do to help them. 

Talking to every single person who seems alone takes a long time, but it’s so worth it. During these conversations, he learns about people who have been separated from their families and takes notes on what those missing hybrids look like, that way he can search for them in the next center he goes to.

It's as he’s talking to the final person sitting by themself that he sees it: two people entering the cafeteria, one of them a sheep hybrid woman, the other a teenage girl who has a blanket around her shoulders, but that doesn’t hide the fact that there’s a lump under said blanket. A distinctly wing-shaped lump. 

Holy fucking shit…

There’s no way…

Is that… actually them?

“Hey, uh, is it okay if I go talk to someone else real quick?” Sapnap asks as he tears his eyes away from the two to glance at the duck hybrid he had been talking to, not wanting to be rude to the guy, especially since he seems really cool, but he has to see if it’s really them.

“Sure man, I’ll be here,” the duck hybrid--Quackity if Sapnap remembers correctly--says, a wry grin on his face as he waves goodbye. “Not like I’ve got anywhere else to be right now.”

With a hurried apology to the man, Sapnap rises to his feet and makes his way to the other side of the room, his gaze locked on the two as they begin eating lunch at one of the tables. 

Once he stops right next to their table, the sheep hybrid shifts a little closer to the girl with her, draping a protective arm around the younger’s shoulders as she asks Sapnap, “Hi, can I help you with something?”

“Yeah actually, do you mind if I sit down?” Sapnap nervously asks, trying really hard to not fuck up the big moment they’ve spent literal years waiting for. “I’ve got some important information I’d like to share with you two.”

For the first time since he arrived, the teenage girl looks up at Sapnap, an all too familiar pair of emerald green eyes alight with fury as she says, “No, you can’t sit here actually. Leave us alone.”

“Drista!” The woman admonishes, her voice dropping to a barely audible whisper as she continues, “This man seems like he’s one of the people in charge here, so let’s be nice to him, alright?”

While not sounding the slightest bit apologetic, Drista grits out, “Sorry. You can sit here or whatever.”

After releasing a heavy, exasperated sigh, the woman turns to Sapnap and hastily explains with an apologetic smile, “Sorry about her, she’s just having a difficult time adjusting to all this.”

“I-It’s fine, no need to…” Sapnap starts to say, but the words get all twisted up on his tongue, his heart beating faster in his chest at the confirmation that this really is Drista and Puffy, his best friend in the whole world’s long-lost family.

With a concerned crease to her brows, Puffy asks the young man, “Are you alright? You can sit down if you need to…”

Not needing to be told twice, Sapnap sinks down into the empty seat across from them, hardly noticing the glare that Drista sends his way, his mind absolutely reeling, because this is actually Dream’s mom and sister.

When he clears his thoughts enough to remember how to speak again, Sapnap just comes right out and says it, looking at Puffy as he bluntly says, “Dream and Foolish are alive.”

“Wh-What?” Puffy asks as she stares at Sapnap with wide, disbelieving eyes, Drista looking at him with a similarly shocked expression. “They’re okay?”

Once Sapnap nods his agreement, Drista demands in a firm tone, “Take us to them. Where are my brothers? Are they here?”

“Not in this building, they’re about a two-hour horseback ride away,” Sapnap explains, quickly continuing when he sees the girl’s crestfallen expression: “Don’t worry, I can take you both there now. They’re both safe at the Palace actually.”

“Wait, hold on, my boys are at the Palace?” Puffy asks in a bewildered tone, seeming like she’s having a hard time wrapping her head around her sons being okay. “And who even are you, how do you know all this?”

“Sorry, should’ve introduced myself already,” Sapnap sheepishly says, reaching out a hand for Puffy to shake as he introduces himself. “I’m Sapnap, personal guard and friend of King George. Dream is my best friend and George’s other guard, so the three of us know each other really well. You have no idea how hard we’ve been trying to find you two.”

“Dee’s been looking for me?” Drista asks in a weak, hope-filled little voice, the girl clutching the blanket on her shoulders a bit tighter as tears rush to her eyes. “He’s missed us?”

“More than you could even imagine,” Sapnap honestly says with a sad smile on his face. “He’s gonna be so thrilled to see you guys again.”

Before Drista can ask anymore questions about her brother, Puffy jumps into the conversation, the sheep hybrid standing up as she asks, “Can you tell us more about them on the way?”

“Yeah, of course, let’s get going,” Sapnap easily says as he rises to his feet, Puffy and Drista both eagerly following after him.

And as they step outside of the rehabilitation center and make their way to Sapnap’s trusty horse, the blaze hybrid can’t help but smile wide.

It’s finally time to bring Dream’s family back together again. 

Chapter Text

As the three of them ride toward the Palace, Drista is the first one to begin asking questions, bombarding Sapnap with a long stream of them that causes the blaze hybrid to chuckle at her eagerness, “What’s Dee like now? How’d you two end up meeting? And how did he even end up in the Palace? Oh and what’s Foolish been doing? Is he still as annoying as he used to be? Do you think Dee will teach me how to fly soon?”

“Drista, Sweetheart, one question at a time,” Puffy gently shushes her when Drista pauses to take a breath, the girl seeming like she wants to say more, but she bites on her bottom lip to keep herself from talking. “You’re gonna overwhelm him if you keep asking so many questions.” 

With a fond smile, already seeing so much of Dream in his little sister, Sapnap happily says, “No worries, I’d be just as excited if I were you. Dream is… honestly, he’s incredible. Hands down he’s the kindest person I’ve ever met, I know he’d give up everything to protect the people he cares about. Sometimes he’s an absolute idiot, but I love him to death.” 

While smiling so wide that her jaw begins to ache, Drista cheekily says, “Sounds like he hasn’t changed a bit. Can’t wait to have to deal with his self-sacrificing ass again.” 

“Oh prime, he’s always been like that?” Sapnap asks with a chuckle, turning around on the horse slightly to see both Puffy and Drista nodding their heads to that. 

“Yeah, he has,” Drista confirms with a heavy sigh, but her smile is filled with gratitude as she continues, “He thought I didn’t know, but before Puffy came along he’d always go hungry just so I didn’t have to. So many times he risked everything to steal food so I would have enough to eat.” 

“Selfless bastard,” Sapnap mutters under his breath, his words drawing a chuckle out of the two. 

After a few moments of nervously running her hands through her hair, trying to smooth out some of the tangles in her wool-like locks, Puffy hesitantly asks, “They’re okay though, right? I know you said they’re at the Palace, but both my boys are safe? They’ve been fine without us?” 

With a heavy sigh, Sapnap softly says, “Yeah they’re both okay. They miss you guys like hell though. I don’t see Foolish all that often since he lives at his university with his roommate Sam, but anytime he comes to the Palace he asks if there’s any sign of you too. And Dream…”

“Not a day goes by where he doesn’t miss you two,” Sapnap continues with a sad smile. “Some days are harder than others, but I know he’s always got you guys on his mind. He dedicates so much of his time to helping reunite families who have been separated, but I know that there’s always a part of him that feels a bit bitter about it. Who wouldn’t be upset if they’d brought thousands of families back together but were still missing theirs? But he’s hanging in there. I’m really glad we found you guys, especially before your birthday, Drista.”

“H-He still celebrates my birthday?” Drista asks in a low voice choked with emotion, tears rushing to her eyes at the thought of all the birthdays they’ve spent apart, all the many days they were separated for. 

“Every single year,” Sapnap confirms, smiling sadly when he notices the tears slipping down Drista’s cheeks. “He writes you a card and blows out the candles on your cake. I don’t doubt that his wish is always for you to come back to him. Foolish always makes a visit to the Palace for both of your birthdays, that way they can at least celebrate it together. All of us are there too but… yeah, it’ll be a lot better this year now that you’re both actually here. Dream’s gonna be so fucking excited, you have no idea. Foolish too.”  

“We’re excited as well,” Puffy adamantly says, that one little word nowhere near enough to express how they’re both feeling, the utter relief at knowing that their family will finally be whole again. “You said it’s about two hours away?”

“Give or take, yeah,” Sapnap confirms, giving them both a little smile as he suggests, “If you guys want, I could tell you some of my favorite stories about them. I don’t have nearly as much for Foolish, but I’ve at least got some.”

The two happily agree to that, each of them wanting to know more about what happened during the times they were apart, wanting to know more about what kind of people the boys grew up to be in the past five years. 

And so that’s how the remainder of the ride to the Palace goes, Sapnap sharing all the stories he can think of about the two, some of them happy stories filled with laughter, and a few of them of the not-so-good times, such as their recent trip to Manburg and how it almost ended badly for them all. 

Time seems to fly by as they trade stories, Sapnap even getting to know more about Dream and Foolish’s childhoods, until all the sudden they’re approaching the Palace, the castle looming larger than life. 

“Holy shit, my brothers live here?!” Drista asks with a disbelieving chuckle, her eyes wide as she tries to take it all in, the shimmering Palace unlike anything she’s ever seen.

“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome right?” Sapnap asks with a knowing grin, steering the horse over to the stables and hopping off the steed, the other two following suit. “Welcome to Kinoko Kingdom Palace.”

“Thank you,” Puffy says with a smile, her eyes also filled with wonder at the sheer size of the Palace, so unlike the castle in Manburg where the two of them spent their days as cooks. “We’re very happy to be here. Can we go see the boys now?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Sapnap says as he begins leading them to the Palace entrance. “I can give you guys the proper tour later, but for now I’ll just take you guys to them. They’re in different parts of the Palace, so who do you want to see first?”

“Dee,” Drista says at the exact same time as Puffy replies with “Foolish, please.”

With a chuckle, Sapnap says, “Okay, yeah, should’ve known that would happen. How about we go find Sam, I’m sure he’d be happy to take you to Foolish, Puffy. And I’ll bring you to Dream, alright?”

And while Puffy is hesitant to leave Drista alone, she really wants to see her son--it’s been so long--so she agrees. 

Upon finding Sam and explaining who they are, the creeper hybrid happily leads Puffy to where he and Foolish have been staying, Sapnap and Drista beginning to walk in the opposite direction where Dream’s room is. 

After a few moments of walking in companionable silence, Drista abruptly says, “Alright, spill. What’s wrong with my brother?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Sapnap asks as his eyebrows furrow in confusion, the blaze hybrid pausing in walking to look at the girl. 

“You’re leaving something out,” Drista accuses, unsure what it is, but she knows. “I’m not sure what you’re hiding, but it’s something big. I know I asked a lot of questions on the ride, and you answered almost all of them, but you never said how you met him…”

Damn, looks like Dream taught his little sister how to be as perceptive as him, there’s no getting anything past that guy…

With a heavy sigh, certain that he can’t ignore this if Drista is any bit as stubborn as her brother, Sapnap takes a detour, knowing that this isn’t the kind of conversation that should be had while standing in the middle of a hallway. So instead, they go to one of the lounge areas, Sapnap plopping down on a plush chair and gesturing for Drista to do the same. 

It takes a few moments of hesitation, but Drista does sit too, Sapnap releasing another sigh before he starts to say, “You got me, I am hiding something from you. And it’s not gonna be easy to hear.”

“He’s my brother, I deserve to know,” Drista adamantly says, and Sapnap can’t argue with that.

“You’re right…” Sapnap agrees, trailing off for a few moments before biting the bullet and just diving right in. “Okay, alright, I’ll tell you. The day you all were separated, Dream got hurt.”

With a growing feeling of dread, Drista weakly questions, “How bad?”

“It’s pretty bad,” Sapnap murmurs, his eyes straying to the ender dragon wings on her back as he gently breaks the news to her: “Drista, your brother doesn’t have wings anymore.”

“Wh-What do you mean?” She asks in a horrified tone, a hand instinctively moving to touch one of her wings, as if making sure she didn’t lose hers too. “His wings can’t just be gone. That’s impossible! Right?”

“I’m so sorry,” Sapnap sincerely says, reaching out his arms and offering her a hug when she begins to sob.

“H-He didn’t… d-deserve that,” Drista chokes out in between sobs as she collapses into Sapnap’s embrace, her wings wrapping around them both, and she can’t help but think that her brother can’t even do that anymore, hasn’t been able to for years now. “F-Fuck, th-they… they shouldn’t hav-ve-”

“I know,” He agrees as he holds her close, it feeling like his heart is shattering into thousands of fractured little pieces. “Believe me, I know. He’s so much better than this world deserves.”

Drista can’t find it in herself to speak anymore, too overcome by grief over the pain her wonderful brother experienced, so Sapnap takes it upon himself to offer even a small comfort: “When we took over Manburg, we were able to get Dream’s wings back at least. So Sam, Foolish’s friend who’s super good at mechanics, is working on creating prosthetic wings for him. I’m not sure if they’re finished yet, but he’ll get them back to at least some degree.”

When her sobs finally come to an end, Drista brokenly says in between sniffles, “But he won’t be able to fly anymore…”

And even though it wasn’t a question, Sapnap finds himself nodding as he sadly says, “Yeah, the metal of the prosthetics will make it too heavy to fly. But at least he’ll have them again.”

“He should’ve never lost them in the first place!” Drista angrily shouts, her voice turning into a low growl at the end of her words, and there’s no doubt at that moment that she’s part dragon, part fierce, protective being. 

“He shouldn’t have,” Sapnap agrees, not for the first time wishing that he could just magically repair Dream’s wings, wishing that he could someday watch Dream fly, but he knows that that just isn’t the reality they live in. 

After a few moments of tense, melancholy silence, Sapnap tries to lighten the mood a little bit by saying, “He’s gonna be so happy to see you though, you have no idea. I think he’d really love it if you went to go see him now.”

While pulling back from Sapnap’s embrace and wiping away her tears, Drista nods her head, sniffling one last time before saying, “Let’s go see my brother then.” 

Chapter Text

“So which room is my brother’s?” Drista asks Sapnap as the two of them walk through the Palace hallways, all these doors looking the exact same to her, but her guide seems to know where he’s going at least. 

“Well, his room was actually back that way, but I’m pretty sure he won’t be in there right now,” Sapnap informs her, those words instantly piquing her curiosity. 

“Oh? What room would he be in then?” Drista asks as she begins paying a bit more attention to her surroundings, as if the room her brother is in will suddenly make itself known. 

“Wilbur’s room, probably,” Sapnap says without hesitation, knowing that, if Dream didn’t spend so much one-on-one time with the hybrids he rescued, he probably would’ve moved into Wil’s room ages ago. “That’s one of the hybrids he’s rescued, they've become really close friends.”

“Close friends, got it,” Drista says with a cheeky smile, having a hunch that ‘close friends’ might in fact mean a bit more than just friends. “Well I can’t wait to meet this friend then.”

“Oh you’re gonna drive them crazy,” He says with a chuckle, already picturing Dream’s exasperated expression as he tries to explain that they really are just friends. “I cannot wait for that!"

After a bit more time spent walking, Sapnap pauses outside one of the doors, Drista doing the same as he gestures toward it and says, "This is it, but I should probably go in first. Don’t wanna give him a heart attack or anything.”

“I guess not,” Drista jokingly says with a fake sigh, the teen leaning against the wall out in the hallway as Sapnap softly knocks on the door.

After a few moments of not getting any response, Sapnap slowly opens the door, the blaze hybrid smiling wide when he sees the two sleeping soundly in bed, especially once he notices the wings draped around them both.

As he turns around to look at Drista, he whispers, “Sorry, but they’re both asleep right now.”

“Then wake them up,” Drista whispers back, not at all caring if her brother and his boyfriend are asleep, she wants to see him now. 

“Are you crazy?” Sapnap whispers back in disbelief. “He’d literally kill me for waking him up, that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“Fine, I’ll do it then,” Drista says as she pushes past him and enters the room, foregoing whispering now that she’s determined to wake them up.

“Wait, no, Drista-” Sapnap tries as he too enters the room, but it’s too late, the dragon hybrid is already making her way to the bed.

Completely ignoring Wil for now, Drista gently places a hand on Dream’s shoulder and lightly shakes him awake, her actions drawing a disgruntled growl from him. 

In response, Drista playfully growls back, and suddenly all traces of sleep leave Dream, the man’s eyes flying wide open as he looks for the source of that unexpected sound.

When Drista sees that Dream’s eyes are a deep shade of purple right now, she can’t help but chuckle, a wide smile on her face as she teases, “Oh wow, you really like him. Cuddling with him while you’re that deep under?”

Her words seem to completely fly over Dream’s head, the dragon hybrid just blinking confusedly at her with sluggish movements, as if trying to make his way through a heavy fog.

Deciding to help the guy out, Drista begins to release a low rumble in the back of her throat, and while hers isn't quite as deep as Dream’s own, he would know that sound anywhere, even in this half-lucid state. 

While rumbling back at full force, Dream releases Wilbur, reaching out his hands toward the sound of Drista’s rumbling, his eyes too tired to stay open, but he needs her right now. 

With another fond chuckle, Drista climbs onto the bed, a small part of her hoping that this Wilbur guy won’t mind a stranger being in his bed, but screw him if he does. This is her brother for prime’s sake, her brother who she hasn’t hugged in years. 

Like puzzle pieces being slotted together, the two of them find their rightful place in each other's arms, Dream rumbling non-stop as he buries his face in Drista’s hair, his prosthetic wings coming to wrap around her own slightly smaller ones. 

“Hey, Dee,” Drista murmurs, pausing in her happy rumble just long enough to speak. “I’m here. I’m finally here.” 

Dream doesn’t say anything to that, just keeps rumbling away, but that’s perfectly fine with her.

When he isn’t so deep in his instincts, she knows that they’ll have plenty of time to talk, plenty of time to share all the things that have been left unsaid over the years, all the ‘I love you’s that have been missed.

But for now, words aren’t needed, because those rumbling purrs are enough, enough to show just how excited and relieved and amazing and wonderful it feels for them to finally be together again. 

In a different part of the Palace, Sam leads Puffy toward his best friend’s room, the creeper hybrid unable to stop smiling at the thought of just how excited Foolish is gonna be. 

After so many years, so many long nights of holding Foolish close as his friend cried for his missing mom and sister, they finally did it, finally found them. 

When they reach the room he and Foolish have been staying in, Sam turns to Puffy with an apologetic smile as he says, “I should probably go in first to let him know that you’re here.”

“Of course, I’ll be right here whenever he’s ready,” Puffy says as she waits out in the hallway, doing her best to resist the urge to rush right in there so she can hug her baby boy.

Sam knocks once on the door as a way of letting Foolish know that he’s there, then he opens it and goes inside, afterward only partially shutting the door so Puffy can still hear them. 

“Hey man, how are the wings coming along?” Foolish asks with a smile on his face as he looks up from where he had been hunched over a textbook on his bed. 

“Great actually, they’re all finished now,” Sam proudly says, a wide smile on his face as he shares, “Dream was so happy, I’m really glad I was able to make them work.”

“That’s awesome, thanks for doing that!” Foolish sincerely says, the totem hybrid turning back to his book as he asks, “I guess we stick around for a couple more days then? Go back on Monday you think?”

“Welllll,” Sam draws out the word as he approaches Foolish’s bed, snatching away his friend’s book and ignoring his indignant shout as he continues, “There’s been a slight change of plans. You’re gonna want to stay here longer.”

“And why is that?” Foolish irritatedly asks as he tries to get his book back, but the stupid creeper hybrid is freakishly tall and holds it too far out of his reach.

With his smile growing even wider, Sam exclaims, “We found them! They’re actually here!”

“No…” Foolish murmurs in a disbelieving tone, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest as he manages to grit out, “Sam, if you’re fucking with me-”

“I’m not, I swear! Sapnap actually found them today!” Sam says as he throws the book onto the desk, instead grabbing Foolish’s hands as he happily continues, “They’re really here, I promise.”

“Wh-Where?” Foolish chokes out as tears rush to his eyes, his heart somehow beating even faster at the thought of his mom actually being here. 

Instead of answering Foolish, Sam calls out toward the door, “You can come inside now.”

Time seems to pass in slow motion as the door is pushed open by shaking hands, Puffy’s gaze immediately landing on her baby boy, her son who’s grown so much older while she wasn’t around, but it’s still so undeniably him. 

“M-Mama?” Foolish whispers as he releases Sam’s hands, slowly making his way toward the door, his voice laced with hope and disbelief. 

While quickly closing the distance between them and wrapping Foolish in a bone-crushing hug, Puffy murmurs, “I’m right here. Mama’s here now. I've got you, I'm not going anywhere again, promise.”

“Mama,” Foolish repeats that one word like it’s a prayer, immediately hugging her back just as tightly as he buries his face in the crook of her neck. 

With a wide smile at the mother and son finally reuniting, Sam excuses himself with a soft, “I’ll give you two some space.”

“My baby boy, you’ve gotten so big,” Puffy murmurs as tears freely slip down her cheeks, holding Foolish even tighter as he begins to sob violently. “I missed you so much.” 

Foolish tries to say how much he’s missed her too, but no words come out, just even more sobs, the kind that wrack his entire body and try to shake him apart, but he stays held together, held together by the loving embrace of his mom. 

And that’s how time passes with the two held firmly in each other’s embraces, Foolish sobbing uncontrollably and tears steadily slipping down Puffy’s own cheeks, both of them grateful beyond words to be together again. 

Chapter Text

The next time Drista wakes up, it’s to the feeling of being oh so warm, as though she’s wrapped up in a little cocoon of blankets and softness.

For a few moments, she has no idea what woke her up, especially since it seems so quiet, but then she hears it.

Someone’s voice, hushed and entirely unfamiliar to her. 

“Okay, okay, yeah, this is fine,” that new voice mutters to himself, his words accompanied by a dip in the bed, as though that person is no longer laying beside them.

And oh.

Oh. 

That must be her brother’s boyfriend.

Throwing aside all the wariness she held, Drista detangles herself from her brother’s arms, no longer pretending to be asleep as she sits up.

Immediately, the phantom hybrid’s attention is on her, his eyes wide in surprise for a few moments before they fill with guilt.

While running a hand through his messy hair, the man gives her a sheepish smile and softly says, “Uh, hey there. I’m sorry for waking you up. Kinda freaking out about you actually being here.”

After a few moments of sizing him up, her intense gaze making Wilbur a bit nervous, a wide grin breaks out across her features.

“So you’re the guy my brother’s crushing on?” Drista asks with a shit-eating grin, her words causing Wilbur’s cheeks to flush a deep shade of pink. “I will admit, you are pretty cute.”

“I, uh, what?” Wilbur intelligently splutters as he stares at her with disbelieving eyes, certain that he must’ve woken up in some sort of parallel dimension, because this just can't be happening. “We… We’re not together. Not like that at least.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Drista casually says with a shrug, still smiling wide as she continues teasing, “Thought for sure my brother was madly in love with you, especially since you guys were cuddling while he’s so deep in his instincts.”

With a low, embarrassed groan, Wilbur mutters under his breath, “Fucking hell, this is how our first conversation goes.”

After taking a deep breath to steel himself, Wil tries to explain as clearly as he can, “Look, I get it. Seems like we’re together or dating or whatever, but we’re not. I love him to death, but not in that way.”

For a little while, she just watches Wilbur, looking for any kind of deception or anything, but all she finds is honesty. 

And yeah, okay, he’s passed the test.

While pulling him into a hug and chuckling at the surprised noise he makes, Drista sincerely says, “If you make him happy, then I'm happy. But my brother’s got the biggest heart out of anyone I know, so I just had to make sure you wouldn’t break it.”

“I would never,” Wilbur adamantly promises without hesitation, slowly moving his arms to return the hug.

“Good,” Drista simply states, but then she grins wildly as she continues, “Because if you did, I’d have to beat the absolute shit out of you.”

With a surprised huff of laughter, Wilbur can’t help but mutter as he pulls back from their hug, “Yeah, there’s no doubt about you being his sister.”

Before Drista can say anything to that, she notices movement out of the corner of her eye, Dream reaching out toward the empty sheets beside him as he slurs out a tired, “W’l? Wh’re’d ya go?”

“I’m right here, Dre,” Wilbur says without hesitation as he quickly reaches out a hand for Dream to grab. “How ya feeling?”

“Sh’tty,” Dream murmurs as he presses his face deeper into the pillow, grasping tightly to Wilbur’s hand like a lifeline.

And Drista can’t help but chuckle at that response, remembering how grouchy Dream always was whenever he came out of being that deep under.

As if struck, Dream jolts backward at that sound, his eyes flying wide open as he quickly looks around the room, desperately searching for the source of that laugh, one that he hasn’t heard in ages.

Somehow, Dream’s eyes grow even wider as he looks at his little sister sitting right there on the bed with him.

Even though it’s been oh so long, he’d recognize her anywhere. If not for her purple and black wings, it’d be for her chestnut brown hair that falls to her shoulders, or the emerald green eyes that seem to sparkle and shine as she looks over at him, or the way her wide smile is like a light guiding him home during even the darkest of nights.

Although it seems impossible, it should be impossible, it’s undeniable.

It’s her.

His little sister, who really isn't all that little anymore.

“D-Drista?” Dream asks in a barely audible whisper, his voice breaking on the first part of her name, because he’s certain this isn’t real, that this is just his instinct-addled brain fucking him up. 

“Hey, Dee,” Drista softly says as she gives him a small, shy little wave, and holy fuck, that’s her voice…

“I… Are you r-real?” Dream hesitantly asks, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he tries to wake the fuck up, because there’s no way this is real right now, he has to be dreaming. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” Drista confirms as she reaches out a hand toward her brother, and Dream grasps it without hesitation, gripping her hand tight like it’s the only thing keeping him afloat. “Your friend Sapnap recognized us and brought us here. You live in a palace now huh? Quite a step up from that shitty orphanage we grew up in.”

And Dream can’t help but laugh at that, but it comes out as more of a sob, because holy fucking shit, Drista’s actually here, he’s holding her hand and she’s making jokes and she’s smiling at him and this is all so overwhelming but he never wants this to end-

“Breathe, Dre,” Wilbur gently reminds him, and Dream does suck in a harsh gasp of air in between sobs, another strangled little laugh escaping him.

After a few moments of hesitation, worried that her brother is on the brink of a breakdown and this might set him over the edge, Drista gently asks, “Can I hug you?”

“Pl-Please,” Dream chokes out through his tears, and that’s all it takes for Drista to launch herself into her older brother’s arms.

And even though so much has changed since the last time they hugged, the way Dream’s arms securely wrap around her back and snake underneath her wings is exactly the same, the way he tucks her head beneath his chin despite how much taller she’s grown feels oh so amazing that Drista can’t help but cry too, because this, this right here, is something that they’ve both needed for so long.

Eventually their tears come to an end, but neither of them pull away from each other, refusing to let the other go after so long spent apart. 

Drista looks around the room for Wilbur, but he’s nowhere to be seen, the phantom hybrid having silently slipped through the floor and out of the room a little while ago to give the two of them some space. 

It takes a while before either of them speak, but Dream is the one who breaks the silence by softly asking, “Are you okay? Were… Did they hurt you?”

“I’m okay, promise,” Drista says without hesitation, and those words cause Dream to release a heavy sigh that’s filled with pure relief, because thoughts of his baby sister being hurt kept him up during so many late nights. “Since mom knows how to cook pretty well, we ended up in the Manburg castle's kitchens. It was hard work there, but we had a bed to sleep in at night and were never really hurt. All things considered, I think we got pretty lucky.”

“Fuck, that’s where you were?” Dream breathes out in dismay, because while he’s thrilled that his mom and sister weren’t hurt, her words still threaten to destroy him.

He’s been to Manburg’s castle so many times, has literally walked by the kitchens, all without knowing that his family was right there.

“I…" Dream tries to speak, but he has to clear his throat against the budding tightness he feels, new tears threatening to spill at any moment. "George had to go there a couple times a year for treaty agreements and I always came with to protect him. And you were right there without me knowing...”

“It’s not your fault, Dee,” Drista hurriedly reassures him, because she knows how her brother is, knows how he gets trapped in his head and blames himself for things that are outside of his control. “You couldn’t have known that we were there.”

“I wish I would’ve,” Dream miserably says, laughing bitterly as he continues, “I wouldn’t have missed so much of your life if I had just gone into those kitchens even one fucking time.”

While pulling back slightly to look her brother in the eyes, Drista gently reminds him, “I’m here now though, aren’t I?”

“Y-Yeah, you are,” Dream murmurs as he really takes a good look at Drista’s face, noticing just how big she’s gotten since he last saw her. “When did you get so grown up on me? I thought I was the one supposed to comfort you?”

“Looks like we’ll just have to comfort each other now,” Drista happily says, proud that she’ll be able to help Dream feel better like her older brother has always done for her.

And Dream just pulls his sister back against his chest again, because even though he wants to tell her that she has always been his biggest comfort, he doesn’t think he can speak without crying again.

So instead he just holds her close, reveling in the feeling of having his little sister back in his arms again.

Soon they’ll have to leave, because he really does want to see his mom again too--it’s been far too long since he’s gotten a hug from her--but for now he’s content to just bask in this moment, one in which his sister is finally back within his arms where she belongs.

Chapter Text

After a while spent with Drista, the two of them just laying in bed, holding each other close as they talk about anything and everything that comes to mind, there's a hesitant knock on the door.

“Who is it?” Dream asks as he tries his best to keep a growl out of his voice, the more instinctual part of him ready to fight off whoever’s outside even though, logically, he knows that it's definitely someone that's a friend rather than a foe he needs to protect his sister from.

With a wide smile on Foolish’s face and a fond eye roll, having known that Dream would probably be in Wilbur's room rather than his own, the totem hybrid happily says, “It's me and Mom. Can we come in?”

The second she hears that voice, Drista bolts upright in bed, an uncontrollable grin tugging at her lips. Because even though he sounds so different from when she last heard him--his voice having grown much deeper from the young teenager she remembers--that's still one of her brothers.

Without hesitation she scrambles off of the bed, nearly tripping in her haste to rush to the door, gripping the knob and throwing it open without a care for how it slams against the wall.

“Foosh!” Drista exclaims as she throws her arms around the totem hybrid, Foolish releasing a bubbly laugh filled with joy as he wraps his own arms around her, pulling his little sister tight against his chest.

“When’d you go and get so big on me?” Foolish asks as tears begin to prick the corner of his eyes, because last time he saw his little sister she was barely taller than his waist, now his chin comfortably rests on top of her head as he continues holding her close.

“Says you!” Drista shouts as she pulls back from their embrace slightly, using one of her hands to gesture at how tall he is now, her voice taking on a teasing lit as she continues, “Just look at you, you're a literal skyscraper now!”

After hearing that, Foolish can't help but fall back into banter that feels so familiar even after all this time, his words equally as teasing as he says with a smirk, “Hey it’s not my fault that you're still so short! How's the weather down there by the way?”

In the past, Drista would have had some kind of witty quip to say to that, one that would lead to the two siblings bickering until they had to be stopped by their mom or brother when things got too heated. But right here and now, no words come out, her throat having become unbearably tight to the point that, if she tries to speak, the only thing that’ll come out will be a sob.

So instead of saying anything to that, she just once again rests her head on her brother’s chest, simply basking in the feeling of being held by him, the feeling of his heartbeat against her ear. And while the tempo is a bit different from Dream’s own steady heartbeat, it sounds musical all the same, sounds like finally coming home.

Meanwhile, as Drista and Foolish finally get reacquainted with each other after far too long spent apart, Puffy and Dream both freeze the moment their eyes lock onto each other’s.

Because it's been years, and far too much has changed for both of them.

Dream immediately takes note of the dark bags beneath her eyes, ones that tell a tale of so many sleepless nights, those same smudges far too apparent beneath his own eyes as well.

And of course Puffy can't seem to pry her gaze away from Dream’s wings once her eyes land on them.

Even though Foolish warned her that Dream’s wings are part prosthetic now, even though Sam showed her the sketch of the wing design to help prepare her, it's different actually seeing his wings like this.

Because that's her kid, one of her children who’s been brutally mutilated, who’s had so much stripped away from him. And not only was Puffy unable to prevent that atrocity, but she was entirely unaware of it even happening.

She knows how much pride Dream takes in his wings, knows that, other than his little sister, his wings have always been the most important thing in his life. 

As she looks at the appendages that are now lined with metal, she remembers how honored she felt when, after nearly a year of knowing him, she was allowed to touch them, allowed to hold her son close and gently run her hands over his wings.

And now they’ve been cruelly stripped away from him, and it hurts. Especially since she vowed oh so long ago to protect Dream, promised to take care of him in a way that he'd never experienced before.

Puffy knows that the pain she feels when looking at him is nothing compared to what Dream must have experienced, and yet it hurts all the same. Because looking at her baby boy with those makeshift wings leaves her feeling shattered, leaves her feeling like she's failed.

She’s failed to protect him, because for years now her son has been without his wings and family alike...

The longer she looks at Dream, it almost feels like she's looking at a stranger. 

Puffy isn’t sure who’s sitting on that bed, but she’s certain that it’s no longer the boy who slowly opened up his heart to her, that little boy who had to grow up far too fast before he eventually learned that it was okay to let someone else take care of him.

But that feeling of not knowing who she's looking at starts to fade when Dream asks in a small, shaky little voice, “Mom? You’re b-back?”

“Hi, Sweetheart,” Puffy says with a sad smile, hesitantly taking a couple steps into the room, but not yet approaching Dream. “I’m back.”

All her doubts leave in a rush after that though, because hearing that nickname again after so long is what finally causes Dream to break.

Against his will, a harsh sob springs free from Dream’s chest. And once that first cry escapes, there seems to be no sign of his tears stopping, the force of his anguish causing his body to shake and tremble as he curls in on himself, the dragon’s wings coming up around him like a shield.

Despite how out of her element she feels right now, despite how she still doesn’t know how to approach this new version of Dream, there’s no part of Puffy that can ignore her child’s pained tears. 

So without conscious thought, the sheep hybrid quickly closes the distance between them and climbs onto the bed, ready to pull her oldest son into her arms for the first time in far too long.

At first Dream hesitates, he pushes away the arms that reach for him, not knowing how to accept that embrace after oh so long without his mom in his life.

But the second she makes a sad little sound because he rejected her hug, her son caves. Dream shoves aside all his hesitation, all the thoughts that say he doesn't need to be taken care of, instead flinging himself at his mom. 

And as she pulls him close and whispers sweet words into his ear, whispers praises to him for being so incredibly strong, Dream can’t help but feel like a little kid again, safe and protected in the arms of his mom. 

Chapter Text

The rest of that day seems to fly by for Dream and his family, the four of them spending every moment tangled up in a wonderfully warm cuddle pile, Dream in the middle with his mom on his left side and his sister on the right, Foolish curled up against his mom’s free side as he drifts off to sleep when the moon finally begins to rise in the sky. 

Even though Foolish is now fast asleep, the other three have no intention of joining him any time soon, Drista and Puffy listening with rapt attention as Dream tells story after story of what life in the Palace is like, regales extravagant tales of all the hybrids that he’s helped save in his years of working alongside George and Sapnap.

And when his voice grows too hoarse to continue speaking, the other two easily fill that silence, neither of them having anything that exciting to share about their lives as cooks in Manburg, but Dream doesn't care, the dragon simply ecstatic to just hear them speak again.

It's only when the sun begins to surface, creating a splattering of pinks and oranges within the sky that they can see through the gap in the curtains, that the three of them decide they should probably try to get some sleep.

But even then they’re hesitant, all of them saying good night so many times that it leaves them giggling softly, I love you’s whispered repeatedly as they continue to lay together, as if they can't bear to not say it at least one more time before drifting off to sleep.

Finally though, all four of them are sleeping soundly, every single one of them resting easier than they have in far too long, smiles on their faces as they drift off to sleep now that their family is whole and complete once again.

Not too much later, Foolish is the first person to wake up, the totem hybrid taking a few moments to just watch the peaceful faces of his mother and sister as they slumber, reaching out a gentle, tentative hand to brush the hair away from each of their foreheads, using that touch to remind himself that this is real, that they actually found them after all these years.

Foolish is so excited to have them back that he wants to tell the whole world, he wants every single person in the palace to get to see his amazing, wonderful family.

And that's what causes him to think of something that he can hardly believe he forgot, the totem hybrid nearly smacking himself in the forehead for being stupid enough to not remember this.

Tomorrow is Drista’s birthday. 

But instead of it being another year of celebrations that are tinged with longing and heartbreak, another year of watching his older brother try not to cry as he blows out the candles on Drista’s cake, she's actually gonna be here.

They finally get to celebrate her birthday together again.

With that thought in mind, Foolish quickly gets out of bed, knowing that having only one day isn't too much time to plan the best party to ever exist, but he's determined to try because his little sister deserves to have the most amazing birthday that this world has ever seen.

He knows that he can't do it alone though, causing him to leave the room and make his way toward his first stop.

It takes a little while of searching, but eventually he finds Wilbur in one of the hallways, cheerily calling out to the phantom hybrid, “Hey, Wil! Are you busy right now?”

“Nah, just finished eating breakfast and was getting ready to go back with my family,” Wilbur says with a smile, and while he's never been very close to Foolish, he can't help but feel happy at the absolute joy on the totem hybrid’s face.

“Well throw those plans out the window!” Foolish exclaims in a dramatic voice, explaining further once Wilbur raises his eyebrows in surprise, “Tomorrow's Drista’s birthday, and I need your help planning the most incredible party ever!”

And Wilbur's eyes widen with realization after hearing that, the phantom hybrid finding it hard to not start bouncing with excitement as he shouts, “Oh shit, that is tomorrow!”

“I know!” Foolish matches his loud tone, the two of them grinning like idiots as they excitedly shout in the hallway. “We’ve gotta make it the best day ever!”

Wilbur vigorously nods his head in agreement, already beginning to make mental preparations for all the things that’ll need to be done in order to create an amazing party.

While Wil wasn’t there for previous birthdays, Dream’s told him enough about those ‘celebrations’ for the phantom hybrid to know that they are a heartbreaking affair filled with the desire for things to be different, that sometimes even just the thought of her birthday can cause his best friend to break down into tears.

But this year’s gonna be different, because for the first time in far too long, Dream's family is finally together to celebrate such a wonderful day.

With that gigantic smile still on his face, Wilbur asks, “What can I do to help?”

“I don't even know, I didn't really think this far ahead,” Foolish murmurs as he’s suddenly overcome with a bout of nervousness, unsure if he's gonna be able to actually pull this off.

While fondly rolling his eyes at the totem hybrid’s lack of preparedness, Wil suggests, “How about you head to the kitchens and begin brainstorming some party foods with them? And I'll get my family to help with planning the decorations and stuff like that.”

“Yes! I'll go do that!” Foolish exclaims as he pumps his fist in the air excitedly, acting like that's the best idea he's ever heard as he begins rushing down the hallway toward the kitchens, off-handedly calling over his shoulder, “Thanks Wil, you're the best!”

Wilbur just chuckles at that as he watches Foolish’s retreating form, the totem hybrid in such a rush that he trips over his own feet and nearly stumbles to the ground, but he manages to catch himself on the wall and calls out, “I'm okay!” before he disappears from Wil’s line of sight.

As he begins walking to Dream’s room where his family was sitting in Phil's nest, Wilbur continues to have a happy little grin on his face, terribly excited for tomorrow now. 

He was already feeling so happy that Dream has his family back, but now that they’re having a whole party to celebrate his little sister that he loves to death?

Wilbur can’t help but think that it’s gonna be an absolutely amazing day, and he can’t wait to see the wide smile on Dream’s face as Drista blows out the candles on her birthday cake. 

Chapter Text

When Wilbur’s nearly reached the room that his family’s in, he can’t help but pause out in the hallway, the phantom hybrid struck with a sudden realization that causes him to feel a sense of dread.

Because for his family to know about Drista’s party tomorrow, they have to know about her, and that brings them dangerously close to learning Dream’s past and his most well-kept secret.

And fuck, Wil's gonna have to tell them, isn’t he?

He knows deep down that there's no possible way for Dream to hide it any more, especially now that he has his wings and his sister back, but revealing the truth is still going to be hard as hell for his friend, especially since he's been hiding it from Tommy and Techno for months now.

So even though it technically might not be his story to tell, Wilbur knows that he has to do it. If he doesn't, not only will they be unable to help with the birthday preparations, but they'll also be in for quite the shock when they next see Dream, and that could lead to some uncomfortable conversations all around.

When he returns to his family, he plasters on a smile to help hide his nervousness as he answers their casual question about if he enjoyed his breakfast.

And even though Wilbur thinks that he’s a damn good actor, there's always been one person that he can never seem to fool: his dad.

Just like when he was much younger and tried to hide things from Phil, the winged man catches on much too quickly, his dad's voice laced with concern as he asks, “What's wrong? Did something happen?”

With a heavy sigh over not having any more time to prepare, Wil flops down in the nest and honestly says, “Something really good happened yesterday, like really really amazing. But I can't talk about it without telling you something awful first.”

Much to Wilbur’s surprise, the first one to speak after that is Techno, the bunny hybrid’s monotone voice soft and filled with understanding as he questions, “You know you can tell us anything, right?”

“I know,” Wilbur says, and he means that wholeheartedly, truly believing that he could tell them anything in the world and they would still love him. “It's just kinda hard because it has to do with Dream.”

“Is he alright?” Phil asks without hesitation, his eyebrows pitching together in worry at the thought of one of his flock members being hurt.

And Wil can’t help but smile at that, because his best friend is most definitely alright, in fact, “He's the happiest I've ever seen him.” 

Before anyone can respond to that though, Wilbur’s smile fades as he continues, “But there's a lot that Dream’s been keeping a secret from, well, pretty much everyone actually.”

“He better not be a fuckin' wrong’un,” Tommy says in a joking tone, but despite the smile on his face, he knows deep down that he couldn't take it if Dream was secretly a bad guy.

“No, no, he's not, promise,” Wilbur hurriedly assures him, not wanting Tommy to get the wrong idea, and fuck, this is harder than he thought it would be.

After releasing a frustrated sigh, Wilbur gives up beating around the bush, deciding to just come out with it and bluntly say, “The reason why Dream dedicates so much of his time to helping hybrids be reunited with their families again is because he knows firsthand what it's like to be separated from the people you love most.”

“Wh-What happened to them?” Tommy hesitantly asks, a part of him not wanting to know the answer as a sick feeling of dread starts to overcome him, because any number of terrible things could’ve happened to Dream’s family.

“You remember learning about The Great Hybrid Purge back in Manburg about five years ago?” Wilbur gently asks, and Tommy's eyes fill with understanding immediately, because he certainly does remember, remembers the whispers from terrified hybrids they’ve met that told of the horrific deeds that were committed. “Dream got separated from his family on that night. Up until yesterday, he hadn't seen his mom or little sister for five years.”

“B-But I thought that Schaltt only hurt hybrids that night?” Tommy protests, because that just doesn't make any sense, not when Dream’s so clearly a human.

With a bitter smile that holds nothing but sadness, Wilbur looks Tommy in the eyes and confirms, “That’s right, he did only hurt hybrids.”

Deafening silence settles over the group after that. Tommy's mouth falls open in shock as he tries to wrap his head around the implications of that. Techno’s stone-faced as he begins to think of all the little hints along the way that Dream might not be quite as human as he seems. And--much to Wilbur’s surprise--Phil doesn't seem the slightest bit stunned by his words.

Eventually Techno’s the one to break that heavy silence, the bunny hybrid asking in a low, contemplative tone, “That's why he always wears those gloves, isn't it?”

Once Wilbur nods his head, confirming that Dream isn't human like Tommy thought he was for all these months, the avian loses it.

When Tommy speaks, his voice is shaking with barely concealed rage, hurt, and even a little bit of fear, his disbelieving shout feeling so loud in the otherwise silence of the room, “No, there's no fucking way he's a hybrid! He’s a human, right? You’re just fucking with us, right Wil? Of course you are, I mean just look at him, no part of him looks like a hybrid! What could he even be?!” 

Wilbur opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, because this right here, this is the moment he's been dreading ever since he came to that realization out in the hallway.

The second he tells them what kind of hybrid Dream is, it reveals the ugly truth, reveals all the pain and hardship that Dream went through, reveals the scars that he’s tried so hard to hide from everyone.

Surprisly though, when the phantom hybrid is unable to find the right words to say, someone else speaks up.

“Tommy, Techno,” Phil starts to say in a solemn tone, his expression grave as he meets both of their gazes one at a time. “Dream is an ender dragon hybrid.”

Techno’s stunned into horrified silence after hearing that, because, while he might not have wings himself, he’s spent enough time with Phil to know that his wings are his lifeline, that they’re a part of every winged hybrid’s very soul.

So for Dream to have lost his wings?

Techno doesn't understand how the man is even still alive after suffering such a devastating loss.

While Techno silently takes in that knowledge, nothing about Tommy has ever been very quiet, the teen’s eyes wide and tear-filled as he shouts at Phil, “What?! What the actual fuck?! You're lying, right?! Dragons have fucking horns and a tail and w-wings, and that’s all shit that Dream doesn't have!”

Before Phil can say anything to that, those words cause Techno to come to a sickening realization, the bunny hybrid desperately hoping that he's wrong as he asks, “Wait... Wil? Those wings we saw on the wall in Schlatt’s castle, don't tell me they were Dream's…”

Wilbur’s smile might be the saddest, most sympathetic thing Techno has ever seen, the phantom hybrid’s voice scarcely above a whisper as he points out, “He's got them back now at least.”

And that right there is news to Phil, the winged man's voice filled with horror as he questions, “Hold on, you’re saying that all the times they went to Manburg, what, Dream just had to stare at his wings on the wall like some fucking trophy?!” 

“As far as I'm aware, George tried his hardest to get Schlatt to give them up as part of their negotiations, but he could never get that prick to budge,” Wilbur regretfully informs them, not wanting to paint George in a bad light by saying that, because he knows how much the king cares about Dream, knows that he would have tried anything short of war to get those wings back.

When it looks like both Phil and Tommy are on the brink of tears after hearing that, Wil quickly says, “He's got his wings back now though and he's so fucking happy about it! Sam ended up creating these really sick prosthetics, so he can move them and feel whenever something touches them, they’ve even got these metal blades on the tips that he could use to slash at people if they try to hurt his wings-”

But Phil doesn't seem to share his excitement, the older man's gaze filled with a haunted sort of knowing as he interrupts his son to state, “But he won't be able to fly again.”

And Wilbur deflates at that, because Phil's right, and no matter how much he wishes it wasn’t so: “He won't. Sam said the metal used to support the wings makes them far too heavy for him to fly.”

“He didn’t deserve that shit!” Tommy shouts as he angrily wipes away his tears, feeling absolutely destroyed, because this is Dream they’re talking about, the person who saved them all, who gave them a home and helped reunite their family when it seemed like all hope was lost. 

No one says anything to that, because it's true, and all of them know that Dream most definitely didn't deserve to be hurt the way he was, yet there's nothing they can do to erase the pain and hardship he experienced.

When the melancholy silence stretches on for far too long, Wilbur softly says, “Dream’s finally got his family back now at least.”

“Yeah?” Phil asks with a poorly concealed sniffle, his eyes watery as he looks at Wil hopefully. “They're safe?”

“They are,” Wilbur confirms, remembering just how ecstatic Dream was when he realized that his sister was finally by his side again. “It's, uh, actually his little sister's birthday tomorrow. Usually that's the worst day of the year for him, but now that they're together again, it could be a really nice day. Right after breakfast, Foolish asked me if I could help him with preparing a party for her. I was hoping maybe you all would wanna help too?”

While wiping away the last remnants of his tears, Tommy determinedly says, “Fuck yeah, this is gonna be the most badass party ever, they're not gonna be ready for this shit.”

Everyone can't help but chuckle at that, and while their laughter holds an undercurrent of deep heartbreak, all four of them still smile at the thought of being able to help give Dream and his family an amazing celebration tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Somehow, everyone manages to keep the party a secret not only from Drista, but Dream and Puffy as well.

Foolish really has absolutely no clue how they managed to pull it off, especially without getting caught, but the next day rolls around and the whole rest of his family has no idea what's about to happen soon.

There's a part of Foolish that wants to keep on waiting to tell his mom and brother about the birthday plans, but he's a bit too nervous that he might not have gotten everything perfect since, out of the three of them, he's known Drista for the least amount of time.

So with a wide grin on his face, Foolish gently wakes up his mom and brother, the totem hybrid immediately pressing a finger to his lips in a shushing motion so they don't accidentally wake up the birthday girl.

Even though they don't know what Foolish is planning, they follow his lead, silently walking behind him as he gets out of bed and begins making his way to the door.

Once the three of them are out in the hallway and a little ways away from where Drista’s still sleeping, Foolish spills the beans and eagerly says, “Okay so you guys have no idea what I've been up to the past day, but holy shit it's gonna be awesome!”

“Oh yeah?” Puffy asks with a wide smile, the sheep hybrid feeling filled to the brim with happiness over seeing her son practically bouncing up and down excitedly.

“Yeah!” Foolish exclaims while smiling uncontrollably, “Me and Wilbur and a whole bunch of others spent yesterday creating the most amazing birthday party ever for Drista. I wanted it to be a surprise for you two as well, but, uh, I guess I wanna make sure that I didn't mess anything up y’know.”

And Dream opens his mouth to speak, to thank him for all the time and thought that must have gone into planning this, but no sound escapes him, the dragon's throat unbearably tight all of the sudden.

Because for the first time in far too long, his little sister's birthday doesn't have to be a day of sadness, a day in which both he and Foolish try their hardest to hold it together when all they want to do is scream and cry over everything that's been stolen from them.

But what was once lost has now been found, never to be separated again.

Even though Puffy also feels like she might cry over her son's thoughtfulness, she's determined to help with anything else that might need to be done, causing her to say in a reassuring tone, “I'm sure whatever you have planned is incredible, but we're here to help with anything you need.”

Dream eagerly nods his head in agreement as he gives Foolish a shaky, grateful smile, one that could never fully convey how much this means to him, but when it's taking all his willpower to not break down into tears, that's the best he's got.

Foolish understands though, because he and Dream both want this to be a spectacular day, both want to make up for all the years that they've missed with their little sister.

After a few moments of thinking over what else is missing, Foolish hesitantly says, “Wellll I kinda had some trouble with the foods that should be at her party. The cooks here helped a lot, but maybe you guys could go talk to them and see what you think?”

“Sure, we can definitely do that,” Dream murmurs as he finally pulls himself together enough to speak again, the dragon feeling thankful that he and Puffy are going to be able to help with at least a little bit of the preparations. “Will you stay with Drista so she doesn't wake up alone?”

“Yeah yeah of course!” Foolish adamantly says without hesitation, trying his best to fight back a massive grin, because this works perfectly with phase two of his plan.

The trio say their goodbyes for now, then Dream and Puffy begin to head to the kitchens, the two of them softly chatting to one another along the way.

Meanwhile Foolish returns to the bedroom, carefully climbing into bed so he doesn't wake up Drista, even though part of him is so excited that he isn't sure if he can handle waiting. At the same time though, he's not about to wake up the birthday girl, that would just be so insanely rude.

The second she wakes up though?

It's fucking on.

After 15 agonizingly long minutes of waiting for Drista to wake up, it finally happens, the sight of her beginning to stir causing a shit-eating grin to tug at Foolish’s lips.

“Happy birthday!” Foolish shouts the second Drista opens her eyes, the girl immediately burying her face in her pillow with a loud groan as she tiredly reaches out a hand to smack her brother.

Rather than letting himself get smacked though, Foolish grabs her hand and uses it to, quite literally, pull her out of bed, the totem hybrid cackling as she grumbles, “You’re literally the most annoying person ever, you know that?” 

“Oh yeah, I know!” Foolish happily says without an ounce of shame, the totem hybrid far too excited to let her sleep in, because there's time for sleeping every other day, but today’s her birthday.

While resigning herself to her brother's antics, Drista begrudgingly allows herself to be led to… wherever it is that Foolish is taking them.

Eventually they end up in one of the many rooms of the palace, and Drista assumes that it's Foolish’s bedroom based on the way the totem hybrid begins rifling around, uncaring of the stuff that he tosses onto the floor in his haste to find whatever he's looking for.

“Ah ha!” Foolish shouts victoriously as he finally finds it, having hidden Drista’s present just to be sure that nothing would ruin the surprise of today. “I got you a gift!” 

“Really?” Drista asks in a soft, surprised tone, unsure how Foolish managed to get her a gift when the four of them have been spending nearly every waking moment together now that they're reunited. “What is it?”

With a wide grin, Foolish hands her the gift and teasingly says, “Obviously I can't tell you that! You've gotta open it to see what’s inside, Silly Sis, that's how gifts work!”

While scoffing at her brother’s antics--yet she can't help but smile fondly at his silliness--Drista begins tearing apart the wrapping paper, revealing a little golden box that she carefully opens up.

And oh.

“It's beautiful,” Drista murmurs in an awe-filled voice, her eyes wide as she carefully begins to take the treasure out of the case that's been protecting it from harm.

Inside the box is a necklace, one with a silver chain and a shimmering pendant that she holds terribly delicately in her hand.

She has no idea how her brother even found a necklace like this...

Because the pendant on the necklace is unmistakably a black dragon, the little figurine having tiny wings that are wide open in flight, a collection of purple gemstones on the dragon that seem to sparkle and shine vibrantly as they catch in the light. 

Before she can continue admiring the necklace, she suddenly finds it much too difficult to see anything with the way her vision has started to blur from the tears slipping down her cheeks.

Drista wants to thank her brother for such an amazing gift, but she can't seem to find any words to say in the face of this wonderful, unexpected kindness.

So instead of verbally thanking him, Drista continues to carefully clutch the necklace in one hand as she throws herself against her brother, the totem hybrid releasing a surprised laugh as he hugs her back.

With a pleased little smirk, Foolish can't help but cheekily say, “I take it you like it then?”

Drista just vigorously nods her head in reply, her adamant non-verbal response causing Foolish to chuckle as he murmurs, “I'm really glad to hear that. I, uh, actually bought it for you a couple years ago, I saw it at the market one time and immediately thought of you. I always hoped that someday I’d actually be able to give it to you.”

And those words are what cause Drista’s silent tears to turn into full-blown sobs, the girl shaking apart in the arms of her brother.

Even though she only had Foolish in her life for a year, this gift proves that he never once forgot about her, proves that they’re brother and sister in everything but blood.

When her tears finally come to an end, Drista shakily asks in a voice that's weak from crying, “Will you put it on me?”

“I'd love to,” Foolish replies without hesitation, accepting the necklace from her and holding it oh so carefully, as if it's as valuable as gold, and that nearly makes her start crying again, especially when he gently lifts her hair so he can clasp the necklace around her without worrying about it getting caught.

Needing to do something that'll keep her from breaking down again, Drista teasingly says, “You’re so fucked when it's your birthday.”

Foolish can’t help but release a surprised giggle at that, and when she begins laughing too he can't seem to stop, his eyes crinkling with mirth as he nearly doubles over with laughter, the necklace in his hands being the only thing that helps keep him steady, but damn it's hard to properly clasp the necklace when he's laughing so hard. 

Eventually the two of them recover from their laughter, Foolish gently releasing her hair and stepping away once the necklace is securely in place, his smile growing into a massive grin as he finally gets to see his little sister wear the necklace he bought her so long ago.

And as she reaches her hand up to hold the dragon on the necklace, her smile growing impossibly wider, Drista can't help but think that this might turn out to be the best birthday ever.

“Soooo,” Drista says after a while of just hanging out in Foolish’s room, curiosity eating away at her as she continues, “What are Mom and Dee up to this morning? Anything I should know about?”

“Nahhhh, they're just in the kitchens right now,” Foolish says without hesitation, feeling pleased with himself because he's technically not lying, he's just not saying why they're in the kitchens. “Dream asked me to stay with you while they went there so you wouldn't wake up alone.”

After humming thoughtfully at that, Drista sincerely says, “Well thanks for keeping me company then. And for the necklace, I really do love it.”

“Yeah of course, can't leave the birthday girl all alone on her special day!” Foolish says with a wide grin, still feeling absolutely elated that Drista liked the necklace so much.

“Speaking of birthdays, are we doing anything today?” Drista can't help but ask even though she's certain that he won't be giving her a straight answer.

Sure enough, all Foolish does is smirk and cheekily say, “Wouldn't you like to know.”

As she allows some sass to slip into her tone, Drista replies with a snarky, “Yeah, I would, that's why I'm asking.”

But Foolish isn't having any of that, his smirk growing wider as he exclaims, “Well that's just too damn bad, because I'm not answering!”

“You're actually the worst…” Drista grumbles under her breath before trailing off, unable to say anything more lest she start smiling and blow her cover.

“You know you love me,” Foolish grins as he gently elbows her in the side.

“I really don't,” Drista bites back without hesitation, but they both know that's a lie.

With his massive grin still in place, Foolish pulls her into a tight hug and proclaims: “Well I love you oh so much, my wonderful little sister.”

For a few moments, Drista is silent, the girl just stubbornly sitting there as Foolish hugs her.

And then she sighs heavily, her arms coming up to wrap around him in return as she mutters with mock reluctance, “Fine, I love you too.”

“Yeah you do!” Foolish shouts triumphantly as he pulls back from their hug, standing up and holding out a hand to her as he continues, “Now come on, you haven't gotten a tour of the palace yet, and I’d love to be the one to show you all the coolest of places.”

After accepting his hand and rising to her feet, Drista eagerly cheers, “Let's fucking gooo! Lead the way!”

"Hell yeah!" Foolish exclaims as they leave his bedroom, their first stop being the throne room, because how could he not show her the most lavish, sparkliest room ever?

Hand in hand, the two of them begin to tour the palace, those smiles never once leaving their faces despite all the time that passes. 

Chapter Text

As Drista and Foolish continue walking through the palace hand in hand, Foolish can't help but feel like he’s on top of the world right now, because this is awesome, giving Drista a tour was such a great idea.

Not only because he does actually wanna show her the palace, but it also means that phase 3 of his grand plan has officially begun: time to distract Drista until the party is ready.

And that phase of his plan goes perfectly.

In fact, he's so insanely good at distractions that for a while he even distracts himself, completely forgetting why he was distracting his sister in the first place. Yeah. He's that good. 

But the second he sees Dream and his mom coming toward them, he remembers his objective, grinning widely as he excitedly waves them over.

And Drista’s eyes light up the second she sees who Foolish is waving to, the girl running up to them and shouting, “There you guys are! I was wondering if you'd forgotten all about me.”

“Never,” Dream vehemently says without hesitation as he pulls her into a bone-crushing hug, his voice filled with so much love and fondness as he murmurs, “Happy birthday, Lil Sis.”

After a long while of just holding his sister close, Dream forces himself to pull back from their hug, giving some space for Puffy to hug her as well.

As she pulls Drista into a gigantic hug, Puffy happily says, “Happy birthday to my little shining star.”

While doing her best to blink away tears, Drista softly says, “Thanks guys. What have you been up to this morning?”

“Would you like to come see for yourself?” Puffy asks with a smile as she pulls back from their hug, that grin growing even wider as her daughter eagerly nods her head. 

So the four of them begin walking toward the palace dining hall, Drista practically bouncing with anticipation, filled with a mix of nervousness and excitement, because she's sure her family has been up to something.

And when they reach their destination, Drista can't help but gasp in a mixture of shock and awe, because the whole room has been transformed.

The long table is covered with an assortment of foods that are all set out on fancy plates and bowls that contrast greatly with the cheap-looking bright purple tablecloth. Similarly, from the ceiling and banisters hang a wide variety of different party streamers and balloons, most of them being purple or black, but there are a few other colors sprinkled in. Along the sides of the room are several plush couches and chairs that were moved from elsewhere in the palace in order to ensure that everyone would have a comfortable place to sit if they didn't want to use the table.

And of course she can't forget about the people who are already in the room. While she doesn't know who most of them are, she smiles widely as they shout a mix between “Surprise!” and “Happy birthday!”, because these must be her brothers’ friends who all chipped in to make this a special day for her.

And before she knows it, tears are streaming down her cheeks, a wide smile on her face as she turns toward her family and softly asks, “You guys did all this for me?”

“Of course we did!” Foolish happily says with a massive grin, feeling like he's on cloud nine right now. “Today's your big day!”

While directing a terribly fond smile at his little brother, Dream points out that, “It was Foolish’s idea.”

But Foolish isn't having any of that, the totem hybrid immediately protesting, “Hey you guys helped with this for hours while I kept her distracted, you can't give me all the credit!” 

And Drista suddenly can't help but feel a bit stupid, because, “Wait a second, that's what you were doing?! I thought you wanted to give me a tour!”

“Oh I definitely did!” Foolish agrees without hesitation, although a smirk tugs at his lips as he continues, “But it also worked as the perfect distraction while these guys finished everything up.”

For a few moments, Drista doesn't know what to say, feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible, because they all did this for her.

When she finally remembers how to speak past the emotions that are threatening to choke her, Drista sincerely murmurs, “Thank you. This is the best birthday ever!”

“And it's only just begun!” Foolish exclaims as he pumps a fist in the air, his sights already set on the wide array of food. “Let's get this party started yeahhhhhhh!”

In a much calmer fashion than Foolish, who, quite literally, runs over to the food, everyone begins to grab their share from the buffet that's laid out on the table. As she looks over everything, Drista has to fight back tears again, because there's so many of her favorite foods, both from when she was growing up with Dream and things she came to love during the years spent with Puffy.

When the four of them sit down on one of the couches to begin eating, Wilbur and someone she doesn't recognize start heading their way.

And instead of saying hello and introducing herself like a normal person would, Drista takes one look at the older of the two and blurts out, “Wow, your wings are so pretty…”

With a wide smile that causes his eyes to crinkle in the corners, Phil can't help but blush a bit at the unexpected compliment as he happily says, “Thanks, Mate. I like yours too. I'm Phil by the way.”

“Drista,” she introduces herself in return even though he probably already knows her name, feeling terribly curious as she asks, “Are you friends with one of my brothers then?” 

“I am,” Phil agrees, shooting Dream a smile that holds nothing but fondness before continuing, “Haven't known Dream all that long, but I'd already consider him part of the family.” 

And unable to resist the opportunity to tease his dad, Wilbur gently elbows him in the side and says, “You're such a sap.”

But Phil isn't having any of that, turning toward his son and pointing out without an ounce of hesitation or mercy, “Says you! You literally talk about Dream 24/7. And if you aren't with him, you're definitely thinking about him.”

Wilbur blushes a deep shade of red at that, the phantom hybrid trying to look away from the group to help disguise his embarrassment, but it's clear as day, and even Dream's own cheeks gain a bit of color as he sheepishly ducks his head. 

As she watches their reactions with undisguised glee, Drista can't help but cackle, telling Phil with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “Oh I like you.” 

“The feeling’s definitely mutual, Mate,” Phil says with a wide grin on his face, the little bird brain part of him feeling a huge flood of pride at gaining the approval of his flock member’s sister.

“Aww I’m glad,” Drista says with a happy little smile, but it grows a bit devious-looking as she casually informs the winged man, “We’ve never had a dad before, y’know?”

And Phil is left absolutely reeling at that, opening and closing his mouth uselessly as the implications of her words hit him like a truck. 

From where they stand a little ways away by the table, Tommy mutters to Tubbo in a teasing tone, “Uh oh, looks like Dadza’s struck again.”

Anything Tubbo says in reply is lost to Phil, because, as if nothing even happened, Drista suddenly asks, “Since you've got wings, does that mean you know how to fly?”

“Yeah, I do,” Phil says in a still-flustered tone. “I’m a bit too hurt to fly right now, but I’ll get to again one day.”

After a few moments of hesitation, Drista can't help but hopefully ask, “Do you, uh, think maybe you could teach me how to fly sometime?”

As nervousness fills him, Phil looks away from the girl, his questioning gaze seeking out Dream, certainly not wanting to overstep on something as important as this, especially since the dragon should have been the one to teach her in the first place.

But much to his surprise, there’s a hopeful little smile on Dream’s face, the dragon murmuring with nothing but honesty in his tone, “There’s no one I’d trust more than you to show her the skies, Phil.”

Phil has to clear his throat against the tightness suddenly present in it after hearing that, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes at the pure trust radiating off of Dream.

When he feels collected enough to speak again, Phil promises the girl, “Once I’m all healed up, we’ll start your first flying lesson.”

“Hell yeah!” Drista absolutely beams, her eyes shining with pure excitement as she looks at Phil as if he's just agreed to give her the world. “Thanks, Uncle Phil!” 

With a surprised, amused smile, Phil questions, “Uncle?”

“Well yeah, I'm assuming you're Wilbur's dad,” Drista begins to explain as if this is the most obvious thing ever, “And since those two are practically married, I figured you’re probably my uncle or something now.”

Phil can't help but laugh uncontrollably at that, Wilbur glaring at his father for a few moments before complaining good-naturedly, “Dre, did you know that your sister is insufferable?”

But before Dream can reply to that, Phil recovers from his laughter enough to gesture at the duo as he teasingly says, “Oh come on, Wil, just look at you two. Can you really blame her? Dream’s practically sitting on your lap right now.”

And really Phil isn't wrong, because while there had been a good distance between them when Wilbur first sat down next to Dream, that's all but vanished by now, the two of them drawn toward each other like a moth to the alluring brightness of a flame.

The two of them flush deeply at those words, both Drista and Phil cackling at the embarrassed pair, even Puffy and Foolish unable to help but grin at their expense. 

While trying to do anything to salvage this, Wil grumpily points out, “I don’t make fun of you and Techno.” 

“Yes you do, literally all the time,” Phil says without hesitation, because that is most definitely a lie. “You and Tommy have always been such little shits.”

“Dreeee,” Wil whines as he buries his face in the crook of Dream’s neck, as if trying to use him to hide from the teasing. “I’m getting bullied, make them stoooop.”

When Phil fixes Dream with a classic Dad-Stare™, the dragon immediately backs down from the challenge and murmurs, “Sorry, Wil, you’re on your own. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do, it’s out of my hands.”

“Damn right,” Phil agrees, his tone teasing as he addresses his son, “You could learn a thing or two from him y’know.”

And Drista certainly agrees with that, the girl cheekily chiming in, “Yeah, Wilbur, listen to your boyfriend, or else I’ll have to kick your ass.”

“This is the worst day,” Wilbur mutters with a long-suffering groan, wondering if this torment will ever come to an end.

With a happy smile on his face, Dream gives Wilbur a gentle squeeze and sincerely murmurs, “I think it’s the best day.”

“You’re right, Dre, it is the best day,” Wilbur agrees without hesitation as he moves from where he had been hiding away in Dream’s embrace, and he means those words wholeheartedly.

Because for as much as he’s playing up the dramatics, there isn’t a single part of him that’s upset right now.

In fact, Wilbur’s loving every second of this. 

He loves the feeling of Dream curled up next to him, one of the dragon’s wings pressed against Wilbur’s front and legs splayed out over his lap, Wil’s arms wrapped around the stomach of the person who means the world to him as he holds him close.

He loves the happiness absolutely radiating off of Dream, the way that beaming grin refuses to leave his face, the man positively glowing as he continues bantering with his family, both old and new.

And as the night carries on, there becomes even more things for Wil to love.

He loves getting to see his dad sitting only a few blocks away from him, the winged man’s hands gently carding through Techno’s hair as the bunny hybrid sleepily rests his head in Phil’s lap.

He loves watching Tommy across the room with Tubbo and Ranboo, the chaotic gremlins grabbing tons of birthday morsels and handing them to Ranboo so the enderman can quickly teleport them out of the room when they think no one else is looking. 

He loves seeing Puffy and Foolish sleeping on one of the couches together, the mother and son having fallen asleep not too long after Drista blew out the candles on her birthday cake, simply laying curled up with one another accidentally turning into the mother and son sleeping soundly in each other’s embrace. 

He loves when George and Sapnap finally get to join them as the night starts to wind to a close, the events after the seizing of Manburg being far too important for George to abandon in favor of celebration, but now that he’s free for the night he’s gonna be with Dream for every second, wide smiles on his and Sapnap’s faces as they get to see their best friend happier than ever before.

Surrounded by the people he loves most, Wilbur can’t help but think that life is good, really fucking good. 

And every time he sees that wide grin on Dream’s face, he knows that his best friend feels the same way. 

Chapter Text

One Month Later…

“You ready, Phil?” Techno asks from where he stands right beside Phil, a comforting hand on the winged man’s shoulders.

“Y-Yeah, I think so…” Phil nervously murmurs as he stares up at the sky, the great blue expanse having seemed terribly far away for oh so long now, it hardly even feels real that, in a matter of moments, he'll be flying again.

And gathered all around the winged man to watch him take flight again are his family, his flock.

Techno’s right there within arms reach, Tommy off to the side with Tubbo and Ranboo, Dream and Wilbur standing hand in hand as they both give him reassuring smiles.

But when that smile doesn't seem to be enough to ease Phil’s fears, Dream moves a little closer to the winged man, reminding him that, “There’s no need to be nervous. Punz said you were all good to start flying again, remember?”

Those words cause Phil to release a shuddering sigh as he agrees, “You’re right, I know I’ll be fine.”

Then, as he reveals the root of his hesitation and nervousness, Phil quietly continues, “I guess it just feels weird. It’s been so long, y’know?”

“All the reason to not waste another moment, right?” Wilbur chimes in with a lopsided grin. “Come on, Dad, I wanna see you up in the clouds again!”

And Wil’s words are finally enough encouragement for Phil to leap into the air, his wings unfurling and catching in the wind in a way that causes an excited whoop to burst free from him, that sound accompanied by bubbly, uncontrollable laughter, because holy fucking shit, he did it.

He’s actually flying again…

“There he is,” Techno softly murmurs, nothing but a deep fondness and pride in his voice as he watches Phil finally up in the sky where he belongs. 

“It’s good to have him back,” Tommy agrees, quickly and incredibly subtly wiping away the tears that have started to slip down his cheeks, because it really has been so long since they last saw their dad fly.

After a few moments of basking in the sight of Phil flying, Wilbur can't help but turn toward Dream, carefully asking him, “Dre? You okay?”

While this is an amazing, happy moment for everyone, Wil wouldn't be surprised if Dream would rather not be here at all, if the sight of Phil flying while the dragon never can again is just too painful to bear.

Much to his surprise though, Dream has a little smile on his face as he replies, “Y-Yeah, I’m good. It hurts a bit, I won’t lie. But I’m happy he gets to fly again, I really am.”

Before Wilbur can say anything to that, Phil comes sweeping down toward the two, hovering in front of the dragon as he demands, “Dream, hold out your arms.”

Even though Dream complies without hesitation, fully trusting Phil, he can’t help but nervously ask, “Why am I-”

But his words are replaced by a scream as he suddenly becomes weightless, his arms and legs wrapping around Phil in a vice-like grip as he shrieks in pure, unadulterated terror.

Because while he had been on the ground a moment ago, he’s now most definitely not.

And that immediately fills him with so much fear that it’s hard to remember how to even breathe, especially since Dream knows he can't fly, knows that, if Phil were to accidentally drop him, he'd have no way of saving himself from a bone-shattering impact with the ground that's now so far down below.

“Dream, it’s okay!” Phil hurriedly shouts over the rushing of the wind around them, his words barely managing to cut through the panic that’s enveloped Dream like a heavy fog. “You’re safe, promise!”

It takes a lot of effort, but eventually Dream manages to tamp down on his fear enough to stop screaming, his voice shaky as he whines, “Phillll-”

“Relax, Mate,” Phil gently reassures him, because he’d never let anything bad happen to Dream. “I promise I’m strong enough to carry us both. I’ve got you, you’re safe with me.”

Dream just jerkily nods his head, not trusting himself to speak.

After giving the dragon a few moments to adjust to the sudden change in altitude, Phil asks him, “Wanna lift your head? It’s real pretty up here...”

Slowly, Dream complies, still desperately clinging to the Elytrian, but he does raise his head from the man’s chest. 

And oh…

It’s absolutely breathtaking.

With all the years he’s spent on the ground, he forgot just how magnificent everything looks from above. 

Because it’s as if they can see the whole entire world from up here. 

From way up in the clouds, everything seems so small, even the Kinoko Kingdom Palace, which has always loomed larger than life, seems like nothing in comparison to the way the vast landscape of beautiful greens and endless blues stretch out as far as their eyes can see. 

As the two of them continue to hover up in the sky, Dream carefully moves one of his hands away from where he was gripping Phil like a lifeline, a breathless little laugh escaping him as he reaches out to touch one of the clouds that lazily float past them.

And in an awe-struck voice, Dream murmurs, “Wow, I never thought I’d fly again…”

“Neither did I till you showed up,” Phil replies without hesitation, and even though he knows that there’s no permanent fix to the damage that’s been done to Dream, it feels really fucking good to repay this favor of flight.

On the day Phil first met Dream, while sitting in a little garden filled with 17 tulips, the man told Phil that he never had to repay him for saving him. 

But way up in the sky together, Phil can’t help but think that he’s not only managed to repay Dream for his never-ending kindness, but also that he’s healed something that was once broken.

The two of them know what it’s like to be beaten down endlessly by life, know what it’s like to be stuck on the ground when every part of you yearns to take to the sky.

Despite how impossible it once seemed, those aspirations came true. Because even when it seemed like all hope was lost, like their wings would never again kiss the sky, they did it.

Dream can’t help but chuckle as he unfurls his wings, feeling the wind rush against them just like he remembered loving when he was much younger, an excited shout leaving him as he’s finally back in the sky where he belongs.

The dragon then pulls back from Phil’s embrace ever so slightly, just enough to look the Elytrian in the eyes as he murmurs a sincere, “Thank you.”

Phil smiles widely at Dream, his voice holding the same sincerity as he simply says, “Thank you.”

And there’s nothing more that needs to be said between the two of them, because they understand.

With the help of one another, they’ve both learned how to fly again.