Chapter Text
"I CAN BRING PEOPLE BACK TO LIFE!" He shouted, sounding a bit panicked as the young man held the raised axe, ready to swing it down and take his last life at any moment. He noticed the shock that many of the server members must've been feeling at that moment. The grip the teen had on the axe loosened for a second and his shoulders seemed to become less tense. Then, the axe was brought down to the teens side and he shouted "AY?!", pointing a finger at the green clad man, his mask luckily still intact, hiding the panic in his eyes, then Tommy spoke.
"Dream, you just lied- you jus- there is no reason-!", the teen started, Dream did not let him finish, cutting him off by yelling,
"Tommy- IF I DIE THEN DEATH IS PERMANENT. If I die then Wilbur's dead forever.", he watched as the teens eyes widened, he looked down a bit, and whispered a quiet 'Wilbur…', his shoulders being brought closer to his body, as he took a small, yet heavy breath.
_______
Now, when you think through it a bit more, maybe he should've thought about the fact that the prison was inhumane. And the fact that if found out, a lot of people would want him in here instead. Maybe if he just thought a bit more about that, he would've added a bed in the main cell. And better food. The raw potatoes tasted horrible, and it took too long to even attempt cooking them by the lava. All he had for entertainment was a clock, some books, and of course, what else but watching the lava too? Maybe toss a book or two into it.
Or maybe the clock, if he did that, Sam had to come replace it. He hadn't had any visitors recently. Besides Sam, the automatic feeding system hadn't been fully fixed yet so Sam had to give it to him directly.
Or when he had to replace the clock. He had to admit however, the ticking of the clock was getting just a bit annoying.
_______
He was getting really bored now. He had already filled a book with random little drawings or sketches, and some occasional texts about random thoughts he has.
The automatic feeding system was almost complete, Sam had informed him it'd be finished in about a week. Or maybe a bit less, he wasn't fully sure.
He had needed to dip his head into the cauldron this week. Having felt as if he was starting to lose the ability to breathe, slowly but surely his breaths became heavier, more strained.
Sam had questioned why he was soaked when the potatoes were delivered, he'd told him, "I have no shower, do I? Gotta stay somewhat clean somehow.", to which he'd been met with a slightly confused look from the creeper hybrid, he asked Sam a couple of questions before the man left.
"Warden?"
"Yes, prisoner?"
"Could I… visit the courtyard sometime this week?" He looked up towards the man, while the mask hid it, his face had a hopeful expression.
"No." The warden said coldly, turning around to head out of the main cell.
"Wait! Please, one more question."
"Fine, but make it quick."
"Could I maybe have a bed? Or at least, something soft to lay on?" He was met with another cold no. And the explanation that 'You designed the prison. You Wanted it to be like this when you assumed someone else would take up the spot of the main cell.'
Dream tried to argue, saying that now Sam had the authority, and could make any possible changes that could make the prison better, make the changes to make the place inhumane.
. . .
His words were not appreciated. This was made clear when Sam roughly grabbed his arms, pulling him closer to him, and despite the mask being in the way, he slapped him.
It was just yesterday it happened, the mask was on. However he could still feel where he'd been slapped. The area that the hand had been, it felt like it contaminated his skin despite not making direct contact to it.
He's lucky the mask is still there regardless, besides extra protection if Sam decided to slap him, it also had the enchantment hiding his status as a hybrid, it was something he wanted to keep hidden.
At least the cell had water. That and the food was all he needed.
"I'll be fine." He told himself.
And oh, he was so very wrong about that.