Chapter Text
“Sam please,” Dream tried again. There was blood sticking to his face and his clothes. He could feel the after effects of potions still swimming through his body making him slightly weaker. There were new cuts in his skin now. They went over all the scars that Quackity had already left. His skin was crisscrossed with scar after scar by now. He wore long sleeves for a reason.
That was usually, though. Right now he was tied to a crappy wooden chair. His shirt had been stripped off of him by him. Apparently according to Quackity, he didn’t deserve decency. There were slash marks across his chest that were bleeding. He could feel the blood oozing down his chest.
He couldn’t see it, but there were also large cuts along his back. He could feel them as he flexed his back. They were deep and painful. Blood was pouring down his back and staining his pants.
His hands were tied to the chair behind him. He couldn’t really move them at all, but he was given just enough space that the rope could rub over his hands and make them raw. His feet were also tied to the chair.
He was completely stuck in an exact duplication of the place he considered hell. It was the place of his nightmares and Quackity had built it just to fuck with him. He had made it to further fracture Dream’s mental state and break him. Dream didn’t want to admit it, but it was working.
He felt like he was going crazy. His fingers were shaking behind him. He couldn’t let Sam see it. He couldn’t let the other see that he was actually scared. That they were getting to him. Cause they weren’t. He was fine.
“You don’t have to be a villain Sam,” Dream hummed, his voice had an edge to it that he hoped Sam couldn’t recognize. Sam wasn't looking at him. He was standing at the edge of the duplicate cell. The other man was waiting for Quackity to come back.
Sam was a coward. He was having Quackity do all the dirty work that he was too fucking scared to do. Dream sneered at the man. He wouldn’t even look at him. Was he really that scared of a man tied up to a chair?
“Prove to me you’re not the bad guy,” Dream hissed, jerking his arms against the ropes holding him down. Sam flinched slightly and Dream felt a small grin come to his face. He was getting to him. He just had to keep going.
Dream wanted to cringe as he felt blood run down his leg. He was bleeding a lot. The slashes across his exposed back, arms, and torso were deep. He couldn’t tell if they were going to need stitches when he got out of here. If he got out of here.
He was still so pissed at himself for letting this happen in the first place. He had told Punz that he was fine. He had told the older man that he didn’t need any help.
Punz had been worrying about him too much lately, Dream couldn’t take it. Each time the other man looked at him with a hint of pity it made Dream want to throw up and claw his face off. He didn’t need pity. He was perfectly fine. He didn’t need Punz tiptoeing around him like a child. They had things to do and he couldn’t be a distraction.
When Dream first mentioned going after Quackity, Punz had wanted to help him. Dream told him no, not yet wanting to reveal their partnership to the rest of the server. Punz had been reluctant to let him go by himself, worrying that something bad would happen. Dream had told him that he was fine. That he didn’t need a babysitter.
He hated that the blond was right.
When he got to Las Nevadas, he had crept around until he found Quackity. The man was just getting a drink at one of the bars and then he casually took it down the street. Dream followed behind him slowly, not wanting to catch his attention.
He had followed Quackity down the eerie staircase when Quackity had started going down it. He didn’t think much of it. Quackity was evil, of course he had a fucking creepy staircase. It wasn’t anything.
Apparently it was. Dream got to the bottom and before he even knew what was happening harming potions and weakness potions were being rained on top of him. His body had instantly collapsed due to the potions in his system. It didn’t take long for him to lose consciousness with the amount of fumes around him and the liquid coating his body.
He had woken up tied to a chair in what was exactly Pandora's box. Dream had panicked at first. Screaming and kicking against the restraints. He already had the large cuts when he had woken up. They were already aching and bleeding.
Dream had scowled as Quackity stalked into the room. He was cackling and dragging the axe Dream had behind him.
He had been hit and cut a lot more than he would like to admit after that. It was enough to make his head spin with pain. It was enough to make him feel like he was right back in Pandora. That he was rotting in his endless hell with no way out for eternity.
When the other man had left the room, Dream distantly heard him and Sam discussing whether or not they should just kill him. Like he was some sort of animal. Like he was some piece of trash that was worth nothing. He wasn’t worth anything but the revive book to most on this server anyway. He had no more worth than an old dirty book.
The end decision had sounded like they would kill him. Dream had panicked a bit again then, sharp breaths pulling their way through his system and his head feeling light.
Sam had come back into the room without Quackity. The man wouldn’t look at him. Still he wouldn’t.
“Sam if you don’t let me go, he’s gonna kill me,” Dream snarled, fighting against the ropes once again. He needed to get out of here. He needed to leave or Quackity was going to get back with whatever he was retrieving and would kill him. He could see how Sam was impatiently tapping his foot. Take the bait. He did.
“What if I want you dead Dream,” Sam scoffed. Dream could hear the fear in his voice. Sam turned back to look at him. He had his gas mask over his face and there was netherite armor covering him from head to toe. Sam was gazing over him and Dream could only guess what he looked like. Bloody and bruised. New scars and old covering his body completely. He was a mess. His eyes met Sam’s and he glared.
“Then you’re proving yourself a villain,” Dream said slowly, “just let me go, and I won’t come back near either of you.” Dream knew that it was a lie. Sam didn’t know that though. He just needed Sam to believe him.
The older man looked conflicted, staring at him. Dream could almost feel the other man’s thoughts through his head. His gaze was sad and regretful. Dream could only assume he wasn’t seeing him now, but a younger, brighter version of himself. Someone that Sam was friends with. Someone that was bubbly and sweet with everyone that he met. Someone that was happy just because he was alive. Someone that wasn’t him. Not anymore.
He could see the conflict in Sam. He was close. He needed to get Sam to let him go. He was almost there.
There was a particularly painful stab of pain in his back. Dream let the sharp wince slip from his mouth this time and he cringed slightly, eyes narrowing. He saw Sam’s eyebrows furrow.
“You don’t have to do this,” Dream whispered, letting the pain he was hiding slip heavily into his voice, “you can be the good guy.”
Sam sighed. Dream held his breath. His head was spinning slightly, but he ignored it. He kept his eyes locked into Sam’s. He let his humanity show.
Sam was then moving forward. He dropped down behind Dream and started to untie the ropes around his hands. Relief flooded through his system and Dream had to hold back a sigh. The ties were quickly undone and Dream flexed his fingertips. Sam moved to the ones around his legs and untied those as well.
Dream immediately stood up when he was able to. He looked back at Sam, moving backward slowly to the exit. Sam stared back. There was something in his eyes that Dream couldn’t even begin to explain.
“Go,” Sam whispered, “before he gets back and kills both of us.”
Dream nodded his head. He moved farther backwards. His legs felt shaky and weak beneath him. Almost as if they would give out if he pushed enough. He wouldn’t let that happen though. He couldn’t fall apart.
“Thanks,” Dream muttered so softly. He knew Sam heard it when the older man nodded. Dream turned around and began running without another word. He forced his legs to sprint up the staircase even though he could feel his cables aching. His wounds were burning, but Dream bit his tongue through it. He couldn’t stop now. He needed to get out before he was caught again.
When he finally got to the surface again, Dream took a large gasp of fresh air. There was so much fear, terror, relief, anger and much more flooding through his system overwhelming his emotions. His head was spinning but after a quick break he kept running. He was covered in blood. He knew he needed to get this under control.
Then the alarms started. Loud blaring noises in his ears like the ones at the prison. The noise made Dream want to crumple to the ground in fear. He kept on his feet, running faster. His legs were burning and he could feel cold sweat sticking to his body.
He could feel the sharp pains in his quads and calves from the way he was pushing his body. He felt cold despite running. He was getting colder, not hotter. He should be getting warmer. He was running in the desert. Why was he so cold? Dream felt himself panting as he ran out of what was considered Las Nevadas grounds.
Why was he so tired? Was his stamina really that bad still? He had been fucking working so hard on it. He had been working with Ounz to get his strength back. They had been training to get his stamina back as well. Everything that he had lost because of the prison. Now it felt like their progress was nothing. He had hardly run at all and he was already feeling like he was gonna collapse.
He needed help. Dream was mature enough to admit it. As much as he despised being helped by a single soul, he knew when he really needed it.
Dream sighed, letting his jog slow down just a bit. He knew that Punz was an option. He knew that the blond would be more than willing to help him. Yet, he still didn’t really want Punz to see him right now. He didn’t want to show up to the blond's doorstep covered in blood, basically a sigh with the words ‘you were right’ written in bold letters.
He didn’t really know who else to go to though. Not a single person on this server truly liked him. He was hated by every single person here.
Ages ago he would have gone straight to George and Sapnap. He would have let his two best friends tend over his wounds with tender fingers. They would have bandaged him up and stayed with him through the night, the three of them pushed together in one bed. Dream missed at time. He couldn’t think about that now.
There was only one other person on the server that Dream would even consider going to now. He didn’t want to deep down, but he knew that the other would take care of him. And from the way his breaths were slowly starting to become shorter, he needed it.
Dream began his trek through the server. He avoided being seen. He was surely a sight to see at the moment. He was shirtless, maskless, and he had blood staining his body. He slipped through the nether portal the moment that he got there.
The hot air of the nether made his body uncomfortable. There was still coldness in his body, but he was sweating more now because of the heat around him. Nether travel would make his journey much faster. It would be a lot easier to get to where he was going through the nether.
Dream kept making his way on the bridges that hung over the large lava lakes. His legs were aching beneath him by the time the exit portal came into his view. Dream sighed. His steps had turned from a jog to more of a stumble.
He hopped through the portal as quickly as he could. The swirling feeling of it made his head spin. He had to take a moment to collect himself after stepping out of the portal.
Cold air instantly washed over him replacing the heat. The change was drastic. He felt light headed as he kept moving. His ears and nose felt fuzzy. The world was blurry around him. Dream kept pushing his legs to move.
He missed the heat of the Nether as the coldness of the tundra but at his exposed skin. He really should have tried to grab some type of jacket or even a shirt to cover him up. His chest was freezing. His hands were also extremely cold, as well as his feet. They felt numb beneath him and his fingertips were tingling.
He didn’t have that much farther to go. He could make it before freezing to death. Right? He couldn’t tell if his dizziness was from the cold, the blood loss, or the exhaustion. Everything just felt like too much right now and the simple act of pushing his legs to walk was so difficult.
A small cabin was in the distance. He was so close. Only a little farther. He could make it. His throat was extremely dry and suddenly he was craving any type of liquid. He was extremely thirsty and he felt parched as a desert. The world was blurring around him again and Dream stumbled forward. He felt like his stomach was doing flips inside of his chest and a pained whimper slipped past his lips.
He eventually got to the front porch and began pulling himself up the stairs. He was so dizzy. He felt so sick and the world was blurry around him. He fell against the door. It was more of a thud than a knock but he hoped that it would do the job. Dream waited, leaning against the door. Black spots were beginning to dance in his vision.
Distantly he heard footsteps from inside the house. The door swung open but Dream was unable to pick up his head to look at whoever opened it. Everything finally caught up on his body and his legs were giving out beneath him.
It was all black before he hit the ground.