Chapter Text
Being someone who presents themselves as nice and mentally stable, meant you are practically a magnet for mentally unstable people.
They’re drawn to you for some reason.
This was the problem with Dream.
Ever since he was little, he attracted people who had some “problems.” Parental issues, unsafe home conditions, body dysmorphia, so on and so forth. And he was only in fourth- maybe third grade!
It only grew more when he went to middle school. And then to high school.
His entire friend group was… let’s just say… uh…. Dangerous….
Soulless, murderers, assassins. Blue was probably the closest to being mentally stable, and even he had some family issues sometimes. His brother was really protective of him.
Dream was nice, put together, mentally well, always willing to make new friends, surprisingly keeping up this kind of personality even through 7th grade. Holy shit 7th grade was- we don’t talk about 7th grade. No one had a good time in 7th grade. If you did, no you didn’t.
Thus, because of all these things, he was deemed the therapist, mom, and mentally stable friend.
He wasn’t mad at that fact.
What he was mad at, was the fact how poorly he could relate and understand and help his friends who came to him whenever they needed to cheer up or vent or need someone to be there.
And of course, he couldn’t tell anyone this, he didn’t want to be a burden, he felt honored that they trusted him as a person to go to with their problems, secrets worries, and more. And he didn’t want his friends to worry about him when one, majority of the time he was fine. He was genuinely happy and content with his life. And two, he didn’t want to complain about his “problems” when his friends had actual problems to worry.
They live on the streets, they’ve considered suicide multiple times, they have an abusive unsupportive unsafe living space, they have violent tendacies, they’re family is on their last leg, they are being bullied beyond belief, they are being starved, they are being abused, they have been abused and are dealing with the trauma, they hate everything about themselves, the list could go on for days.
Dream was a very fortunate and privileged individual.
Okay, maybe he wasn’t human, he wasn’t cis, he wasn’t straight, he wasn’t very religious, he didn’t come from a white background, he didn’t have the best relationship with his family.
But he was happy. And if he wanted something, he could probably get it without concern for money. And his brother was still alive. He was smart. He had attractive looks. He was- he was privileged. He was a privileged asshole is what he was.
Or at least… convinced himself.
He ignored the fact that he convinced himself being a skeleton would appeal to no one. He ignored the fact he was school smart, not life smart. He ignored the fact his brother hated his entire being his mother is dead and he never knew his father. He ignored the fact he was too anxious to spend money or ask for money or things period, never wanting to bother people. And he ignored the fact that he was really… not happy.
Of course, there were times when he was happy. He was a happy person. He was happy with himself, he was happy with life but he just…. There was always that looming void, that fog that vaguely covered everything, making it just the little bit harder to see.
Maybe he hadn’t noticed it in the moment, but thinking back on it, it was always there.
But… he kept quiet nonetheless.
Who would even want to listen to his stupid “problems” anyway? At that point, he would just be an annoying bitch complaining about nothing. About something that didn’t matter.
His best friend had died.
Someone he would go as far as saying was family was gone.
Alter was dead.
Why didn’t he mention it to anyone even though it crushed him?
Well… nobody knew who Alter was, he was a childhood friend who moved across the country. None of his recent friends knew him, they wouldn’t care about this person, they’d probably be annoyed, bored of him crying over this not special someone.
Besides, it didn’t impact his ability to mask that everything was okay, so, as long as he just pretended everything was okay, everything would be okay. Nothing would have to change. His friends didn’t have to worry about him, his friends didn’t have to treat him any differently, his friends didn’t have to question how naturally he smiled when he hung out with them. How unphased he was.
There was a moment that stuck with him. Once,Killer had asked him “do you ever hide your happiness?”
That was…. a question for sure. One hell of a conversation.
But… during the conversation, he didn’t really answer, he listened to Killer tell him that he hides his true happiness. He wasn’t truly ever happy. The happy, jokester, class clown, demeanor everyone saw and he put on wasn’t true happiness. He was traumatized and he was glad Dream hadn’t gone through the same thing he had.
Dream, as usual, just nodded his head and listened, like a good friend. It was the least he could do for Killer. He couldn’t do much. He didn’t know what he could do.
But what he did know, was that sometimes people just needed to get something off their chest and not really get an answer or solution, they just needed another supportive person to hold them and tell them everything was okay. And that was something he could do. He wasn’t actually good at offering help, usually not understanding his friends problems, so he often overthought what the other needed in that moment, not really knowing himself. Worrying he would do the wrong thing, say the wrong words, act the worst way. So… listening and being understanding was something he could do without failing.
But, moving on from that, back to the question, “do you ever hide your happiness?” Well… that was a complicated question.
He didn’t hide his happiness. Why would he? It would make more sense if it were “do you ever hide your pain?” The answer to that question was… well… something.
He felt it wasn’t exactly “hiding” more… not killing the mood when it didn’t need to be killed. Not burdening the other with a trauma dump out of no where.
Besides, when he was with his friends, he was happy. He was genuinely happy. And… when he was with his friends, he could forget all his pain, his fears, his worries, every bad thing happening in the world. What mattered was him and his friends having a good time, and that was all.
So… it wasn’t really “hiding” his pain, it was just… leaving it for another time.
That’s why he never brought up that his best friend died.
Because he could forget about the funeral, that fact Alter was no longer there, all those promises, all those stories they made up, all those plays they made up, we’re all fake. They would never be able to fulfill those dreams when they were younger anymore.
He could forget everything, and truly smile.
But if he told his friends, they’d baby him, and treat him as if he was some delicate flower, they’d be oh so careful with him, more so than usual.
Not only that, but they’d also think he was some horrible sick person who didn’t care about his dead friend, when he laughed a true laugh when his friend told a joke, and he forgot for a moment that his old friend was gone, forever, and it could happen to any of his other friends at anytime.
And it would change everything forever
Dream…. Didn’t like change. It scared him.
Maybe that was why he’s continued to be so innocent and nice and a push over and what not over the years.
If he all of a sudden became some hardened, tough, mean, asshole. No longer innocent, casually insulting and making fun of his friend like the rest of them. Stubborn and held his ground and was more “rude” to his friends. Said no more.
Held his ground more.
Defended himself more
Stood up for himself more.
Was more confident in himself.
Was okay with playing around.
Didn’t overthink every little action he did.
Didn’t stress out about every word that left his mouth.
Didn’t fear every thought he thought, and worried about what the others would think of him if they found out.
Didn’t worry about every single simple little thing he did, has done, and will do.
Maybe personally, he’d be stronger. But how would that crush his friends? This person they used to go to and could rely on, all of a sudden…. This? They’d be so…
Okay, maybe Dream was a people pleaser. Easy to manipulate. Easy to push over and get an apology while scrambling to get back on his feet. Believed in everyone. Gave people more chances than they should get. Shrugged off poor actions because of poor excuses and reasonings. Easy to toss around. Easy to use. Easy to play with.
But… it’s all he’s ever known. All him and everyone around him has ever known.
If you’re nice, you’re immediately seen as weak. Immediately seen as a victim. Immediately seen as someone who would maybe be fun to have in your life for a while.
Being someone who presents themselves as nice and mentally stable, meant you are practically a magnet for mentally unstable people.
Both toxic, others just broken.
And though Dream appeared to be stable, and most of the time was internally, there were those moments that he’d never speak of.
The moments he didn’t want to burden the others with.
The moments he would never be able to voice anyway.
The moments that didn’t even matter that much to begin with.
And so, Dream will just keep quiet and keep on being the good ol therapist, mom, mentally stable friend.
It was the least he could do for the people who needed him to be any of those things, with actually problems, with actually important moments, who actually had potential to be more than just an empty boring person who all he could do was listen and nod his head.