Work Text:
dream shivers, curling up more on the ground. blood drools out his mouth as he wheezes breaths.
"well, it isn't that bad," techno says, pacing around. he gestures at the lava, "warmth," potatoes rotting in the corner, "...food," the chest, "literature! hey, roomie, we're gonna be gooood, just fine!"
dream chokes on his own saliva. "this sucks," he coughs out around the weakness still clogging his throat. "shut up."
techno watches him heave. "at least quackity won't be back!"
"what do you know?" he spits out a black-tinted glob. "fuck."
"what is that?"
"it's my flesh, techno." he heaves himself up to hack out more of the substance. "'s wither."
"oh, well," techno stutters, looking around, "do you have any potions?"
"no, idiot, i'm being tortured."
"hm. well..." techno sits down next to him, avoiding the probably-still-lingering puddles of gloopier blood. "just gotta ride it out, alright?"
dream groans and breaks into another coughing fit.
"come on man, one more sip. just one."
"that water probably has some new disease in it." dream pushes away the bottle, which is slowly leaking between techno's fingers.
"but it's water, dream."
dream coughs, wincing as his cracked ribs realign with each movement. "i don't want it." he pushes again, weak although techno pretends it's harsh, for both of their sakes. "i don't need you to... to take care of me."
techno looks at dream's hair where clumps are covered in dried blood. he looks down again into his inequal eyes. "do i need to add brain damage to the list again?"
"fuck off, techno."
"i'm just bein' nice!"
"take your niceness and shove it."
dream coughs after his words and techno holds back on scrambling to help him remain sitting.
"you know, i had this whole plan where i'd get out of here, but i think a certain someone is gettin' on in years."
"hm?" dream looks up from where he's poking at an open wound. "what did you say?"
techno sighs. "stop pokin'. you're gonna get it infected."
"well, i haven't gotten sick so far."
"that's because you're already sick."
dream groans. he slurs something about the lava and the temperature.
"no, you cannot excuse it. you have a fever i can feel."
dream finally takes his fingers off his thigh and looks at techno properly. "you're probably, like- adjusted to the arctic."
"no, you are sick."
"you're no fun."
"fun bein'... infections?"
dream slumps down and shakes his head. it makes him visibly dizzy.
dream chokes on the water. "tastes like shit."
"don't care."
"i'd rather drink the saltwater again."
"...saltwater?" techno pulls the bottle away from dream's lips, holding onto it. the crack has grown and he actively has to hold it in a way where the water doesn't drip out. "who gave you saltwater?"
"sam did."
"why?"
dream laughs and there's a rattle to it that techno has grown to predict. "are you really asking that now?"
"that's fair. you just said somethin' smart."
"i say plenty of smart things."
"keep hopin'."
the silences become more comfortable, tense, usual, expected and uninterrupted as days pass.
dream tumbles down the chute, collapsing with his lower half still inside.
techno kneels next to him, soaked in red blood and purple acid and black and green and pink potions. "dream?"
dream doesn't respond. techno doesn't want to touch him. "dream!"
still nothing.
"chat, he won't respond. what do i do?" he speaks into the open air. the limited vents can't keep up with two people in the cell.
chat screams in his ear. "okay, okay! stop it. no, he's... alive."
he thinks. believes. hopes. dreads.
"if this backfires you're all to blame." he puts a hand on dream's shoulder. dream is breathing. he shakes him a little, but dream doesn't stir. "you know, i'm not a doctor, but that doesn't seem good. how much would a respawn heal, chat?"
chat is unhelpful. techno tells them as much.
dream looks up at him blearily, pupils dilated too far. "you look like shit," techno tells him.
dream nods. "i think... i don't think i'm living another."
"oh, you have to. we've made it this far."
his eyes slide shut. techno shakes him awake. "no, no, bad idea."
"why?"
"i'm scared you'd die," techno says, and dream looks up at him with a smile and an axe in hand and laughs.
"yeah, right."
techno bristles. this nerd is annoying. "have you even fought before?"
"yeah?"
"with those arms?"
"i'm strong," dream says, and chokes on his next breath. they've stopped cleaning the red slowly dripping off his chin.
"you see, i'd love to agree, but... i don't think that's true right now."
"maybe should kill me instead."
"no, i'm not killin' you."
"i come back."
"still no. it'd hurt and i don't want to."
dream pouts with a wince and a weak attempt.
techno takes a breath and continues, "and this- this idiot tried to report me to mods, because he thought i'd cheated!"
dream doesn't laugh.
"the mods knew me by name at that point. i don't know what the guy was thinkin', darin' to go against me like that."
he looks down at dream, leaning against his shoulder. "dream?" he shakes dream side to side, gently, caring.
"mm?"
techno looks at him for another few seconds. "when i get out," he says, vows, "i'm comin' back as soon as i can. you're gonna make it."
"thanks," dream breathes, barely able to move his tongue enough to form the word.
"no need. i just..."
he stares at the clockless wall. he appreciates the silence. no ticking.
techno brushes hair out of dream's face. "just one bite. come on."
dream doesn't. he shifts his face further into the matted fur of techno's cape.
"dream, genuinely, you're gonna starve."
he doesn't respond. there's a silence that stretches between them. it's neither awkward nor nice.
suddenly dream falls sideways onto the obsidian. nobody pulls him back up before the floor is wooden and the surroundings sunny.