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Dream listened to the sound of construction from where he was sitting in his place on the hill. Looking over L’Manberg had become a type of hobby for him since the small nation even began. He watched it grow from barely finished walls and a van to a whole nation. He watched it turn hands from party to party and he watched it turn into a crater. He watched it now as it grew back up from the ground. With Tubbo as the new president and his determination rebuilding the nation that had fallen to rubble and ashes.
He watched the nation grow from nothing and he watched it fall. He was watching it grow again and he knew full well he was going to watch it crumble and burn. He wasn’t sure whose hands would do it this time. He wasn’t sure where the line was going to be. But he was sure that it would happen.
Wilbur had been his friend. They’d cared about each other. They’d looked out for one another. During the L’Manberg war they’d been at each other's throats. They’d attacked one another and fought back and forth like stray cats. Hissing and spitting at every turn while trying to get the upper hand for their side. Wilbur had fought an uphill battle against him and though it was by Dream’s mercy he had won. Something like that was bound to gain Dream’s respect. Anyone who was willing to fight for what he believed in regardless of the cost was something that would gain his attention. He cared about people like that. He cared for people like that.
So when the election happened and he watched Wilbur be turned away he promised his help and aid without a thought. It was dangerous. But it was right. He knew it was right. There was no chance of it being anything other than right. Wilbur had earned his respect and his attention. He deserved the help when it was something unjust. The fact that Dream didn’t like Schlatt was just icing on the cake for him. When Wilbur asked him for the TNT Dream had delivered. He’d given him the supplies but he knew that Wilbur was going to follow through on his threat if it didn’t work. He’d thought it would be fine. Until his friend slipped farther than he realized and he blew up the nation even though they won it back.
Dream hadn’t expected to lose a friend during that fight. He thought Wilbur was going to be smart about things. But instead he’d seen him hanging on the blade held by his father as his life slipped off to the void. He’d gone home that night to the community house and locked himself in his room to think. He had known something was wrong with Wilbur. He had known that Wilbur had needed help. But he thought Wilbur didn’t care about him the same way that he cared for Wilbur. He thought that Tommy would have done a better job at supporting him and helping him. He hadn’t thought he needed to worry.
But he’d been wrong.
Or maybe Wilbur had just known something more about L’Manberg than anyone else. Maybe Wilbur was just beginning to agree with the things that Dream had said from the beginning of all of this. A nation would bring nothing but pain. Government was a curse that his lands were meant to be free from.
He let himself be consumed in the sounds of the construction below him. The sound of wood being chopped. Of posts being lifted. Of hammers and nails and shouts as people went for breaks and called for more materials. The city had blown up by the hand of its founder and yet the people were still smiling with the guidance of their new leader.
Dream felt sick thinking about everything that he’d lost already. He’d made this world to be a home. He’d created the lands to be able to have peace and relax and live happily. He’d built it all for a family and still they made walls and laws and governments. They made areas that cut off others. They built courts and parliaments and they split themselves into groups away from one another. They didn’t choose a family.
But maybe in the end Wilbur had.
He’d chosen death by the blade of his father. He’d chosen a land without walls or law in the end.
He was pulled from his thoughts by a clump of blue dye being thrust towards his face.
“Some blue?”
He just blinked. The gray hands and yellow sweater let him know full well who was standing floating in front of him. The ghost of the leader that caused everything Dream watched over now. The spirit that showed up not long after the man’s death and didn’t remember anything of what he’d done.
They said he only remembered the things that made him happy.
Dream knew that meant he likely didn’t remember him. Wilbur had been more of a friend to Dream than Dream had been to him. His mask made it hard to emote from time to time and it wasn’t like he had many as the days went by. Dream was a monster in most people’s minds. And even if Wilbur had changed his mind about Dream that didn’t stop the stain of the memories where they fought.
His silence went on for too long. It felt like he blinked and Ghostbur was crouching in front of him. The grass visible through his transparent body as he continued to hold out the blue.
“Hello? Dream? Do you need some blue?”
“What?..”
He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he spoke until he was hearing the scratch in his own voice. He cleared his throat and watched as Ghostbur made a face at him, offering the blue up closer.
“Some blue. It takes the sad away and you looked sad.”
Dream shook his head.
“No, that’s not- that’s not what I meant.”
Ghostbur tilted his head as he watched him. Dream felt stuck. He wasn’t used to this. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know why the ghost was so confused so before he repeated his dye Dream continued speaking.
“You said my name.”
If possible Ghostbur just looked even further confused.
“Of course I did. You’re Dream, so I called you Dream. You are Dream right?”
“I..Yeah. I just thought you wouldn’t remember me. That’s all.”
“But I remember the things that make me happy. That’s what Phil says at least. And Friend seems to agree with him so I believe it. Of course I remember you.”
The ghost floated to sit next to him on the hill. Dream wasn’t sure what to do.
“I didn’t…”
“Why wouldn’t I remember you?”
He sucked in a breath at the question. There was clearly something there that Ghostbur remembered. Telling him wouldn’t be a surprise. He’d blown up a country on his own. Surely he couldn’t be mad at Dream for them being on opposing sides once.
“We fought a war against each other not that long ago. Before all of this.”
Ghostbur hummed lightly. Leaning back and looking up towards the still gray sky. The ash cloud from L’manberg had yet to fade away completely. The sky above them wasn’t going to be blue for a long while at least. Not with the amount of TNT that had been used to make the country a crater.
“I remember that actually.”
It caught him off guard.
“Not the fighting. I don’t remember that. But I remember looking up to you. I remember thinking of you as a good leader. I remember that you’re strong and protective and fearless. That you’re a good man.”
Dream listened intently. It was the first time someone had outwardly spoken well about him in a long time. It made his heart hurt that it was by a friend that was dead. A friend that had died after using the materials Dream had given him.
“Ghostbur?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I have some blue?”
He watched the ghost light up. Handing the dye over and letting it fall into dream’s partially gloved hands. He rolled it back and forth. Let it stain his fingers and the palms of his gloves.
“I miss you. Alive you. I know I shouldn’t say that probably but-”
“I miss him too.”
Dream froze. His heart cracking and shattering. Tommy had told him it was his fault that Wilbur died. He said that if it wasn’t for him Wilbur would still be alive. Hearing that his ghost missed being alive just hammered that nail in further.
“Alivebur was strong. And everyone looks at me like they wish I was him. I’m happy to be here. I’m happy to see all of you. But I wish I was him.”
Dream remembered going to Pogtopia to tell them that he was going to be fighting for Schlatt in the fight. He remembered how Wilbur had looked at him. He remembered saying that it was something worth more than friendship. The revival book had been worth it. It was worth it because it gave him the ability to save the ones he cared about.
Maybe it was time to start with the person that he failed into death.
“You are him. You’re you. And that’s enough. You’ll come back, memories and all one day. Ghostbur, I promise. I’ll get you back how you want. I just need time.”
He watched the smile soften on pale gray lips. Watched him fiddle with the blue he held in his own hands.
“I believe you, Dream. You always save me in the end.”