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Dream ran. He had to run, because the hunters were already on his tail and he didn’t want to end up dead (that’s what he’d done all this to avoid). He had to get away. There wasn’t another option, not one that involved him getting out of this alive. He couldn’t fight in this state, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be able to talk his way out of this one. They’d probably just kill him on sight, after all. (Unless it was the Warden or Sir, and then it would be so much worse) He wouldn’t be able to get a word in, no matter what (no matter who). He didn’t have any delusions about the situation he was in.
The blood ran as he did. It seeped from his chest, his arms, his face, running down his neck and flowing through his fingers. Dream knew he couldn’t do anything about it right now; he didn’t have the healing potions or time. That would just have to wait for later. He could just push through the pain for now. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to it. He had Si–Quackity to thank for that) It wasn’t bad enough to leave behind a proper, complete trail, he was pretty sure, and that was all he cared about right now. He just had not to get caught and then he could deal with everything else later. (If they captured him again, anything he could of done later would be completely, utterly pointless. It wouldn’t save him, so he just had to focus on getting away now)
Dream didn’t know where he was going. He was just running, frantically racing through the forest, hoping that he could figure something out as he went. Getting to Punz was out of the question – not when he was injured and disorientated and hunted. (If someone was following him, he wasn’t going to put them in danger by bringing his tail right to them) He probably had some bunker hidden around here, but he had no idea where, and he didn’t even know if he’d be safe there. Someone might be able to find him even there, especially if they still had some of those fucking cursed compasses left over. Dream was pretty sure he’d gotten rid of all of those, but he could never be too sure. (They might of lied to him, after all. It wouldn’t be the first time)
Dream felt the breath be squeezed from his lungs as he slipped through the underbrush, between the trees, trying his hardest not to leave behind a trail. It was dark. He could do this. It was fine. He just had to not disrupt anything too obviously, had to not make a sound (had to hope no one came across him), and then he would be fine. He just had to keep running.
Dream’s sides were burning, his lungs screaming at him to stop, just stop, but he couldn’t. The blood was running faster, making his jumpsuit cling to him uncomfortably. The adrenaline was still keeping him going despite the blood loss, and he just hoped that wouldn’t go away anytime soon or he was going to collapse.
The lanterns in the woods got closer, and their lights brighter. He could hear boots crushing branches underfoot. Fuck. That was bad. They were close – too close for comfort – and just getting closer, and, with the lanterns, Dream wouldn’t be able to use the darkness to hide, not with the bright orange he was wearing. They were going to catch him, and then they were going to kill him, book or no book–
Dream’s foot caught on a root and he stumbled, falling with a sharp hiss. Fuck, he was so fucked now– He flipped over onto his back and scooted back toward the tree whose root had tripped him, his heart fluttering. He had to get up–
Hands grabbed him, keeping him pressed down. For a moment, Dream panicked and fought against them, before realizing where he was and going limp. Fighting wouldn’t get him anywhere if it was one of the hunters. He couldn’t win, not unarmored and practically unarmed. They were just going to kill him if he was lucky (and drag him back to the prison if he wasn’t), and Punz would probably still revive him (if they were still loyal, if someone hadn’t paid them more, if the promise of power was still enough to keep them by his side), but that would just put them in danger and they’d need to get his body in the first place, which would probably attract someone’s attention and they couldn’t afford that–
But it wasn’t one of the hunters, he realized as their grip on him relaxed and they turned to face him. A lantern sat beside them, dim and newly unveiled, illuminating their face and short pink hair. It was enough for Dream to recognize them.
It was Niki. Niki, who Dream hadn’t seen for pushing-on two years, and barely spoke to before that. Niki, who everyone loved. Dream had no idea why she was here in the first place, why she wasn’t happily away at home or searching for him with the rest of the crowd. (Dream didn’t know what she wanted from him, and that was dangerous)
“Shh,” Niki whispered, draping her coat on top of the lantern to block its light now that he saw who she was. Dream didn’t make a sound. The night air seemed to prickle, filled with anticipation and poorly-suppressed panic, empty despite the sounds of the hunters, coming closer, closer, closer. Niki pushed him further against the base of the trunk, motions slow and silent. Neither of them dared to breathe.
Slowly, the voices and footsteps and clanks of metal moved on, pushing forward. That was it. That was fucking it. They were gone. (Hopefully, or they could just be pausing, maybe the blood left a trail behind, maybe they found it, maybe they were going to follow it back and find him, and Niki too, who he still had no idea why she was doing this but he couldn’t imagine people would like it very much to find her hiding there with Dream, and he might fucking deserve whatever happened to him but she sure didn’t–)
Dream made sure that they were gone before he opened his mouth, still trying to keep his voice low. He wasn’t getting caught now, not after all of this. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Niki whispered back. She looked over Dream and he could tell she was frowning. “Hey, you’re bleeding.”
“It’s not an issue,” Dream dismissed, voice quiet. He could deal with it. It was fine, it wasn’t bothering him. (He didn’t want to be any further in her debt than he already was) “Don’t worry about it.”
“Seriously, Dream. When did you get hurt?” Niki asked, and he was just able to make out her pursed lips and gleaming eyes in the darkness.
“Does-does it matter, really?” Dream scowled. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, hell no,” Niki responded, her voice rising alongside her refusal. “I have a couple healing potions on me right now, and you are going to heal yourself up.”
Dream sighed. He hated relying on those things, he knew that he shouldn’t, that they were bad for him, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. (And, if he didn’t agree now, she would keep pushing, and that might get them caught if they were even slightly too long) “Fine. Just one.”
Niki dug around in one of the pockets of her coat before she produced a potion, the liquid dark and indistinct, but Dream knew that in the daylight it would be a bright bright pink. “Here.” She held it out to him, and he took it cautiously, as if the glass would break and impale his flesh if he put any more pressure on it.
Dream raised the potion to his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as the too-sweet liquid hit his throat. (It tasted like pain and felt like pain and promised pain, even though Dream knew it was different, he was choosing to do this, no one was making him do it, this was helping him, he had to just let it help him) He set the bottle down once it was empty, magic surging through his body and stitching his body back together, skin and muscle reforming to bridge the gaps of torn flesh.
“Thanks.” Dream handed the glass bottle back to Niki, who immediately placed it back in her coat pocket. (Actually, was the coat hers? It sure looked a lot like Wilbur’s, Dream noted, even down to the patches) Even empty, a bottle could be reused to make another potion, and it certainly saved you a trip to the desert to get the sand you needed for glass.
“No problem,” Niki murmured. “It looked like you needed it, and I have plenty at home already, y’know?” She turned to face the forest, eyes scanning for anything moving, but Dream could tell she was still looking at him in the corner of her eye. (People didn’t like leaving Dream unattended when there was a chance he might do something, he had learned) “Please don’t make a big deal of it, but my base’s entrance is just a little bit out of the forest and to the right; no one knows about it, but anyone – and I mean anyone – who needs help can get it there. You can stay there for a night or two, if you want.” She shrugged. “Or not. It’s your choice in the end.”
Dream pushed down the tired embers of anger, of pride, of she thinks I need help, of she’s only doing this because she feels bad for me. He did need help, and he was in no position to deny it. (If that was just it , if that was the only reason she was helping him out, then that meant that she didn’t actually want anything from him, maybe it wasn’t some trap for him, maybe it was just pity. If it was just pity, all he had to do was look sad and pathetic and helpless and she would help, hopefully. It wasn’t complicated, it wasn’t rocket science or anything. He could do that) He nodded. “I won’t cause trouble.”
“Seriously, thank you,” Niki murmured. She smiled at him, almost apologetically. “Sorry, but I gotta go. Just try not to get caught once I leave, alright?”
“Sure. See you later?” Dream didn’t know how to do this. Prime, he had no idea how to do this and maybe he wasn’t bleeding out now, but he still almost felt like he was, and he hadn’t had any actual human interaction in what, a full year? He was out of practice with conversations that didn’t involve trying to convince someone not to hurt you.
“Sounds good.” And then Niki slipped away, headed who-knows-where. Dream didn’t care much. It wasn’t his problem. (She…probably wouldn’t go to the hunters. If this was all a trap, she wouldn’t of left. She would of stayed and kept him here until the hunters found and killed him. She would of come with him to her base to make sure he did what she wanted and then told the hunters to make sure he didn’t escape. And she hadn’t done any of that. She just had told him a place he could go and left without any attempt to force him there, and that meant she was probably telling the truth. It was probably safe, but Dream had trusted a lot of the wrong people before, and paid the price for that mistake. He wasn’t eager to do that again)
Dream pulled himself up after he was sure she was gone, his fingernails digging into the tree bark. Okay. He wasn’t bleeding anymore. The hunters had – probably – left the area. (He could only hope that he hadn’t missed any of those damn compasses) He was fine. He was probably in the clear, as much as he could be now.
He might take up Niki’s offer, actually. Her place was closer than Punz’s, after all, even closer than the rendezvous (and that was one reason he shouldn’t do this, that he needed to meet up with Punz and talk to them, but he could do that tomorrow and he might not have the–ability to get there, not completely; Punz had waited a whole year, they could wait just one more day), and it might be a good idea to be…friendly with her, if nothing else. But that would be it. Now, even more than ever, being known as his ally was basically a death sentence. The whole reason Niki was doing this was that she was nice (“anyone – and I mean anyone – who needs help can get it there”; Dream was included in that anyone, not other, not an exception, not a monster, and that surprised him; Niki was treating him like anyone else, like an actual person), and Dream didn’t want to put her in danger (he didn’t want any of this to happen, he didn’t anyone to get hurt).
But Dream could just stay the night there, be gone by morning and hopefully before she came back, and just pay that back through a couple of favors and be done. Maybe talk to Niki occasionally or help her out, because he also had to make up for the potion she wasted on him. But that would be it, and it would be fine.
He could do that. He just had to get going right now, and not get caught. He could do that. And, if he could fucking do that, he could get to that base, take inventory and figure out what he needed, maybe take a nap, and then go. That was it. That was all he had to do. It would be easy. He just had to go. Just start walking. One foot in front of the other. It was easy.
—
As Dream descended down the staircase, he found himself mildly surprised. He didn’t know what he had expected really, maybe a bunker, a few rooms underground, but definitely not the city he found himself entering, the walls lined with glittering quartz and torches. (He ignored how much the flames looked like lava) Dream couldn’t stop himself from running a hand along the smooth stone, cold to the touch. The feeling was so foreign after months of burning-hot obsidian under his fingers.
The boots Techno gave him (the one thing he didn’t take back) clinked against the stone as he descended, each step carefully controlled. He wasn’t going to fall. Dream was tired, but it was fine. He could still stand up, he could still walk, he could still move. He wasn’t going to fall down these stupid stairs.
By the time Dream reached the end of the flight of stairs, he was closer to clinging to the wall than just touching it. Still. He was fine. His body was just being stupid and tired because he hadn’t slept in an actual bed for a full year. That was it. He was going to take a nap and everything would be fine. That would be the end of it.
Words were chiseled into the quartz wall across from the bottom of the staircase, and the letters seemed to swim before his eyes. Ah. Dream knew that was bad. He could still read it if he squinted, though.
Everyone is Welcome. Well, wasn’t that nice. Beyond that, the passage ended and there was a sharp turn to the right, but Dream could see that the flickering torchlight continued around the turn.
He followed the light, watching as the passageway opened into a colossal cavern, what looked like houses carved out of the stone itself. Niki must of hollowed this entire mountain out , Dream thought idly. Well, good for her. (It certainly seemed like she had the time to do it, all the time in the world, while he had rotted, alone and tortured)
Dream scanned the area, looking for any sign of life and finding none. Okay, he was probably fine then. He started down another flight of stairs leading down to the closest terrace. (He didn’t think that he could get much farther, he just needed to get there and into a bed and out of here before the dawn broke, that was it, it shouldn’t be hard but dark spots were beginning to form at the edges of his vision and his hands were shaking and, actually, he was pretty sure his whole body was shaking at this point, and none of that was unusual but he still knew it was bad–)
Dream dug his naked fingers into the rock desperately when a wave of exhaustion hit his body, all but folding into himself as he swooned and almost fell. For a moment afterward, he just stood there, panting, his fingers bleeding from the crystal (it’s not like he hadn’t blooded his knuckles again and again and again on obsidian, this was nothing, and his hands were already bloody, weren’t they?), trying to calm his racing heart and fluttering breath and not fall down. He was cold, Dream realized. He was so, so cold. (He had always despised the lava, but now that it was gone, Dream wanted nothing more than for it to be there again, the constant heat and patterns and pops and distractions, the terror that it falling always brought) But he had to keep going. If there was a bed (and there had to be, who would make a whole underground city full of houses and not have beds in all of them), there would be blankets, or at least sheets. He could work with that. It would be enough.
Dream managed to snap himself out of whatever trance he had fallen in and stumbled towards the dwelling’s entrance, managing to pull the door open after a few tries with his bloody hands and drag himself inside. It was a simple enough room, just a chest and crafting table and a regular table, complete with an accompanying chair, and – thank Prime – a bed. An actual fucking bed. That was all the impetus Dream needed to check the door and lock it, using the rest of his strength to drag the chair over and barricade the door for extra insurance, before collapsing onto the bed and just lying there, soaking in the softness and comfort he didn’t know that he had missed so much (that he didn’t deserve). His fingers got to work unbuckling his sword belt and pushing it off the edge of the bed, leaving it to fall to the floor with a loud clash. He instinctively jumped at the noise, like he knew he would, but he was too tired to care.
He could check the chest later, see if anything was useful in there, and try to find something he could use to transport items – he wasn’t going to be able to survive like this for much longer, especially not without pockets. But that didn’t matter right now. Right now, he was going to go to sleep and hopefully wake up before dawn so that he could get out of this place without running into Niki. (Even if she had invited him in, he didn’t want to risk her wrath if she had changed her mind or wanted to keep him there or thought he was more trouble than he was worth)
Dream let his eyes flutter closed and fell into a fitful sleep.