Work Text:
In the short time that Techno’s known Dream, he’s only seen the man completely clear of glitches once.
He remembers the day fondly, remembers a call of his name before someone was jumping right in front of him with a grin on their face, the only one not intimidated by the gleam in Techno’s eye and the sword in his hand; it’s always the same with Dream, the unwavering confidence, the complete lack of fear, even while his body actively decayed and built itself right back up 24/7.
Dream had been blabbering on about something, his hands waving wildly, but Techno was only half aware of what he was saying, more focused on the lack of colorful glitches that had been plaguing his friend’s body since before he was even fully developed. When he had pointed it out to Dream, the man had stopped mid-sentence, looking down at his legs, then his arms, then his hands, before finally looking back up at Techno.
The warrior will never forget the look of pure ecstasy on Dream’s face, and Techno’s sure that if he could, the man would be crying. Techno had smiled that day, and it felt foreign on his face, which was usually set in a straight line, his emotions never showing on his face lest the people surrounding him take it as weakness and exploit it (how else was he supposed to protect himself, his landー and Dream, his mind whispersーif all of the people around him, or more realistically, the glitches, attacked without mercy?)
“We’re finally matching, Techno! I made it!” Dream’s voice had been watery, and Techno had instantly been on the defensive before he realized that oh, Dream was happy, he was happy that he was devoid of glitches, just like he always complimented Techno about.
He had meant to say something more, something meaningful, but all that came out was a quiet, “you look great, nerd,” reserved only for him and Dream. The man, as if he had some second sense to read between the lines of Techno’s words, had grinned at him again, and just at the same time, two identical pink glitches appeared, high on Dream’s cheek. It was a faux blush, and when Techno pointed it out, with his voice strained due to holding himself back from saying more, the color spreadーthis time, not from the glitch, but from Dream’s own skin.
It had been Techno’s favorite day, and he highly suspects it was Dream’s too, but he really, really, should’ve known it wouldn’t last.
“Techno?” The mentioned man had been watching the oddly-shaped polar bear below himーthe one he can no longer look at without his throat closing upーwhen Dream’s voice had appeared at his side, where he always was. The man had been suspiciously absent that day, no sound coming from his side of the yellow border separating them, and Techno spend nights following that day wishing he had just gone to look, gone to pester Dream until he finally came out of his little box, gone to help the man who had wormed his way into Techno’s heart and held the reins of the organ ever since.
“So you finally decided to-” Techno had cut himself off when he turned and caught sight of his friend, his neighbor, his beloved, his everything. Dream was walking slowly towards him, as if every step pained him, and Techno had stood up as fast as he could, his sword dropping down to his side as his eyes widened.
Dream was… barely recognizable anymore. His sweatshirt had turned completely rainbow, the soft fabric from before completely gone in favor of glitch after glitch after glit- Techno had closed his eyes briefly to stop his train of thought, before refocusing on Dream, his heart jolting when he realized that this was all real. The glitches had never been this bad, never been completely covering Dream until you could barely see him anymore.
Only his eyesーso green, so wide, so hurt ーwere visible anymore, the rest of his face succumbing to the unforgivable chaos that were the glitches. “Techno.” Dream could still talk, even though his mouth was completely corrupted, and Techno later found himself wishing he couldn’t, wishing he didn’t have to be stuck with the torture that was Dream’s last word being Techno’s own name in such a horribly weak tone, set on an infinite loop in his mind.
“Dream, you, uh-” Techno had cut himself off, not wanting the last thing Dream hearsーand that thought had hurt more than the occasional glitch that nipped at Techno’s skinーto be some horrible, unfunny, stupid joke. When the warrior had neared the man, Dream practically crumbled, falling into Techno’s arms. The glitches, although they were never forgiving, bit at Techno’s skin from where they were clinging onto Dream’s body, but he didn’t careーhe couldn’t, not when Dream was gasping for breath, his hands coming up to weakly clutch at Techno’s cape.
“Dream, it’s- you’re gonna be fine, this will pass, they always do.” Even to Techno’s own ears, it sounded fake, sounded like a last ditch effort to not only convince Dream, but also the warrior himself. Dream had shaken his head, babbling something that Techno couldn’t understand, his voice staticky, like the glitches had somehow gotten inside him.
The two had spent what felt like hours like that, with Dream shallowly breathing against Techno’s shoulderーnot even flinching at the glitches racking his body, not anymore, not after having to feel them every day with barely any remorse. Techno, not for the first time, had desperately wished that it was him who suffered with the constant attacks, instead of having to sit idly by, barely being affected, while Dream fought for his right to even exist every day.
But, then he replaced their positions, and thought that no, no he wouldn’t want Dream to feel this way. Wouldn’t want him to have to feel the person he loved dying against his shoulder, wouldn't want him to have to sit there for minutes after the body against him went still, not knowing what to do, where to go from here.
What was better? Living a short life where you constantly had to fight against the very Universe to survive? Or to live a long life, practically untouched, but having to live with the knowledge that the person you loved most died on your shoulder while you could do nothing except hold him close and whisper honey-sweet words that you wished you could’ve said before?
Techno doesn’t know, but he will spend days, months, years, however long he has left, wondering why? Why him? Why Dream? Why not anyone else in this vast expanse of Universe? Why the one person Techno loved, adored, couldn’t live without?
And the last thought on his mind, as the white void consumes him and everyone left around him, will be: Finally.