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Dream ran, and ran, and ran, and ran... He knew he was far away from the SMP, far from the cursed prison of his own making and war and the blaring sound of the alarm.
He didn't know what made him do it, but he was sure of his unstable mind after, well, after his brother died. After that, he blamed himself for being too useless, doing nothing to prevent it. He lost his mind in mourning and grief and before he knew anything, Dream was at Tommy’s throat.
What possessed him to be like that, he had no idea. Perhaps it was the envy he felt when Tommy joked around, having fun and games with his family, the luxury which he could never feel again. Maybe he broke down when the envy reached the top and bursted out like a volcano.
Or maybe it was when Wilbur called him a tyrant and demanded a freedom that didn’t exist, even though he only gave them three simple rules.
Or maybe it was when Tommy held his last memory of his possession, his familiar, Spirit’s leather like a trophy and taunted him, looking too smug for a person who's holding a memory of what he had left.
Dream didn’t know. He wasn’t sure of anything.
But it wouldn’t be the time to drown himself in thoughts, Dream realized as he tripped over nothing and faceplanted.
Wobbly, Dream sat up, legs shaking because of the aftermath of the sessions si- Quackity brought for the last few months. Or year? He lost track of time. Taking a breath, the man looked around. Dream was near an ocean, which was very far from the SMP, eight thousand blocks at the very least. He didn't know how his legs carried him here. Maybe it was because of his pain tolerance helped him through the burning of his muscles. Maybe, maybe, maybe... Dream sighed and slumped down, resting his head under a tree. What was it called? Oh, spruce. His brain was too tired to even remember anything, his head being bashed into the obsidian for too many times to count.
Now everyone was going to find him and kill him. That was the way it was going to be. Big bad Dream, the villain that they all agree is the one to defeat, put him where he belonged.
It was a reasonable thing for them to feel like that. His mother figure, his friends, and even his best friends were calling him a monster. Why was that? Because he was a monster, as a matter of fact. He did horrible things, manipulated minors, started wars, stole everyone's most treasured belongings for leverage. It was all him! Evil him, and everyone else. Dream felt a laugh bubbling up his throat, then he was letting out a hysterical laugh, finding a twisted humor at the absurd thought.
He looked thoughtfully at the gleaming ocean, inviting, clear as ever, gentle waves flowing into shore, seemingly waiting for him to just come, indulge himself into the salt water. He was oh so tired, after all this. Scheming, fighting, making up things on the fly, he was so tired of it. Maybe if he could just-
Don't do that, Dream.
“What?” Dream almost yelped in surprise. He whipped around in surprise, finding no one else in the forest. It sounded familiar.
A voice he had been longing for a long time.
What? Too concussed to know who am I? The voice chuckled.
“...Nightmare? You're here? Like, am I hallucinating?”
I'm here. The entity replied, sympathy sneaking in its voice. Are you alright, Dream?
“I… don’t know. I haven’t caring for myself since… y’know.” Dream said, fidgeting with his hands. It was weird, seeing him after all this time.
Oh, Dream… The voice held so much sadness Dream might as well cry for him.
“I- I don’t want to do this anymore.” Dream admitted, slowly crumbling down like a dying flower. “Nightmare, I hate it. I want to come with you.” He started to sob, tears flowing down, forming a small puddle. For the first time since forever, he felt like he was just seeing him now, for his time was over. There was nothing left to do. What could he do when he became like this? Definitely not with this... this weakened, starved body with a bad reputation. He chuckled again, ignoring the other's concerned expression.
Before Nightmare could do anything though, Dream had decided his own fate, plunging himself into the freezing water, ignoring shouts of protests and sunk down to the bottom of the ocean.
His lungs burned, his throat burned, everything felt on fire and so cold at the same time, yet his mind felt nothing. His body tried to resist with the few energy it had left, but it didn't matter. He relaxed and welcomed the dark, dark abyss that awaited with open arms.
He saw Nightmare, he knew he could join him. And that was all there was to it.
—————
Dream woke up on a beach near an ice ocean. He's confused about what was going on here. He was supposed to be in the- Oh.
He got out and ended himself. He was dead.
You can't forget them, can you?
Suddenly, Nightmare appeared in front of him. He looked almost exactly identical to Dream, but his pupils had a beautiful shade of crimson red, and he wore a hoodie with the same color. His blonde hair flowed out, golden shimmering under the sun.
Nightmare’s legs were transparent and hovering awkwardly in the air. Dream ignored them. After all, his were too.
The entity held Dream's face, forcing him to look at his eyes.
"Yes?" Dream said, albeit hesitantly.
Who hurt you, Dream? Answer me truthfully.
Dream didn’t want to answer it. But he still did anyways. It was just his brother. He wouldn’t hurt him like the others. He was his family. He was safe. "Everyone in the SMP. I was the cause, but it hurts."
Look in my eyes, Dream. It’s not your fault.
He looked in its scarlet eyes. They seemed to be glowing, but it could just be his imagination. He felt a calming sensation washed through his ghostly body without a reason. He wanted to listen to the other, but it was hard to as he mentally went through all of his crimes over and over, like a mantra in his head.
Think about all the things they have done to hurt you. Nightmare's voice was calming, almost like a whisper. His eyes were knowing, staring at him, through him, seeing his thoughts laying out in his eyes, digging up his pain and exhaustion. Dream found that he didn't mind.
He felt like crying and breaking down right then and there. The disappointed looks everyone had when he was locked in the prison, Bad’s bright smile that felt fake controlled when he visited, Sapnap’s face when he scowled and promised his last death… they hit him like a brick.
Shhh, you’re okay. You were strong. Nightmare reassured him. Now close your eyes and listen to me.
Dream closed his eyes, took a shuddering breath and focused on the deep voice that Nightmare always seemed to possess.
They hurt you, didn’t they?
He nodded, suddenly feeling hundreds of needles pinning his heart.
They left you to die. They wouldn’t remember you when you die. Every single word sounded bitter like poison lacing on his tongue. You died alone. They wouldn’t care if you did. They wanted you dead.
Dream felt worse as every word was spoken, and it was harder to resist the urge to curl up and ignore the world until it all go away. But he trusted Nightmare. He was his brother, he wouldn't hurt him.
But you didn’t know them.
“What?” Dream asked, confusion filling in at the words. His mind started to become stuffed with cotton and he couldn’t think straight. He started to feel droopy, and it was weird as he was a ghost now.
You don't know anything about them. They're strangers, not your friends and family.
I'm your family, your brother Dream. Your name isn't Dream either. You are Clay. Dream's mind became cloudy, and soon enough, his vision was tinted with a deep dark scarlet. He was oddly calm.
Your memory would be blank as paper. But that’d be alright.
You wouldn’t remember anything except your name when you wake up. But that would be fine, too. And you have me, your big brother to protect you from anything.
Forget them, Dream. Forget them. Because once you do, you’d feel much better. No pain, just happy days with your family.
You’re safe in my hands.
Dream's eyes gradually became too heavy to open, so he shut them down. Only darkness greeted him.
—————
Dream woke up in a snow biome. He was confused. He's supposed to-
Oh, wait.
He was dead, he realized.
...
He couldn’t remember anything.
Why couldn’t he?
'Your name is Clay.'
Oh, right.
There was his brother beside him.
Dream Clay was safe in his hands.