Chapter Text
Content Warning: Throwing up, eating disorders, sleep deprivation
2 Dec 2021 -- 4:30 PM.
Soft snow compresses under heavy feet.
Dream is out of prison. It's been a long time since Punz has seen him, almost an entire year. Words hung in the air, emotions unable to be spoken by freezing lips. They were walking toward a cabin Punz had built before everything was different. Before the wars, before the hate and agony. All that was on his mind now was getting Dream to the cabin safely. Punz had set it up beforehand to make sure everything was fine. He looked different. Longer hair, skinny, jumpy.. very jumpy, Punz had noted to himself.
Eventually the cabin came into view. A quiet, deep breath sounded. Not from Punz. The blond walked onto the porch, shifting his boots off. He glanced over to Dream, clearing his throat.
"Could I help you with your boots?" He'd start, dropping his own off to the side of the door. His blue eyes bore into Dream's, even if he wasn't trying to intimidate his friend.
"That'd be nice," Dream answered, leaning against the railing of the porch while Punz crouched down to work his boots off, starting with the laces. The boot came off with ease, and he set the pair next to his own. "Thank you," Dream sighed. The blonds made their way into the cabin, shutting the door tight and locking it, both handle and latch. Who knows what, or who, could find them here.
"Do you want food? I could make soup. Fitting for the.. weather," Punz's voice was tight with held back emotion. During so, the shorter made his way to the kitchen to start making food, whether it was for Dream or himself.
"Please do, Punz.." Dream's voice sounded odd saying his name. Like it was foreign on his tongue. He seemed to be in such a pitiful state. He couldn't help but feel empathetic to his situation. Punz poured half of the chicken soup into a bowl, pushing it into the microwave, starting it, and listening to the radiation hum as it cooked. The ding of completion didn't take long to come, pulling open the handle and grabbing the bowl with both of his hands. He sat it down on the coffee table in the living room where Dream was lingering. The taller was gazing around the room lazily, and Punz didn't blame him. If he was stuck in a obsidian box for almost a full year, he'd also be pretty happy to see some different scenery.
"Chicken noodle, hope that's good enough for you," Punz sat himself down on the chair diagonal from the larger couch. Dream sat down quickly, picking up the spoon and shoveling down a couple spoonful's of the soup, seeming relieved. His face twitched, and paused. Punz's eyebrow raised. "Is everything okay with the sou-" Punz was cut off by a gag, and then retching. His spine crawled, rushing to Dream's side and rubbing his back. He kept out of the way as Dream threw up over the hardwood floor, panting. Tears rolled down the ashy blonds face once he had calmed down. Punz continued to soothingly trace circles on Dream's back. "It's okay, Dream.. it happens. We can work through this together." He promised, standing up and coaxing Dream to do the same.
"I'm not the same anymore." Dream started. His voice sounded so wrecked with unspoken emotion. Punz only lead him to the bathroom, sitting him down on a stool. The man opened up a cabinet, grabbing a washcloth and running it under warm water. He turned to Dream, pressing the fabric to his face, wiping around his mouth.
"You might not have the same mindset, but to me you're the same person I.."
"..wanted to be friends with." Punz paused through his sentence, finding the right words to say. It didn't feel right, but it'd make do for now.
---
7 PM.
Punz had finished cleaning up the vomit in the living room, and the two were now in a guest bedroom. Dream had seemed tired, so he ushered him to the room.
"Aren't you going to sleep, Punz? It's getting quite late.." Dream's tone was filled with concern, gazing over to the blond on the wooden chair. Punz smiled, simply shaking his head.
"It's okay, Dream. I just wanna be here incase anything happens, or if you need me." He cleared his throat, looking to the nightstand where the lamp was on. He grabbed a small notebook and pencil he had sat there earlier, flipping one or two pages in.
"..Up to you." Dream rolled over on his side, feeling safe enough to have his back to the man he trusted.
---
10 AM.
Sunset turns into night, and night turns into day. Punz had stayed up the entire night, but he was nodding in and out of sleep over and over again, trying to keep himself up. It was so quiet, the chair wasn't the coziest but it worked. Maybe he could just get a little bit of sleep..
"Punz?" Dream's voice was hoarse, rubbing his eyes. He'd been sleeping for a good fifteen hours. Punz jolted up, eyes opening quickly with a couple of blinks. The notebook had fallen onto his lap, pencil discarded to the floor somewhere.
"Dream- sorry, good morning, do you need water? You sound like you need water." He confirmed, setting the notebook aside and standing from the chair, unbalanced. The shorter began to walk toward the door.
"No, hold on," Dream sat up partly. He gazed over to Punz, still clearly out of it and tired. "Did you sleep?" He questioned, eyebrows furrowing in suspicion. Punz paused in his steps, back tracking by a step.
"No, It's fine. I was waiting for you," The tone in his voice had sounded like he wasn't going to take any protest from him. "Go back to sleep, Dream. I know that it's 10 AM, but more sleep would benefit you." Punz knew that he was being a hypocrite with his words, but Dream still let his body fall back into the comforter.
---
12 PM.
Dream's eyes slipped open, woken by a small sliver of light coming through the curtains. He groaned softly, stretching, and slipping his legs over the side of the bed. He stood, yawning. His green eyes gazed lazily over to the door cracked open, soft music playing from outside. He pushed it open, seeing Punz at the kitchen counter, making himself a sandwich. His stomach growled.
"Dream, hey, you okay?" Punz looked up, startled from the sudden appearance of the blond. Dream curtly nods, cracking his knuckles. "Okay. Well, do you want to try crackers for now?" Punz suggests, his eyes flick to the top cabinet, knowing there were a couple packs of saltines stored in there. Dream knew he was trying to help, but part of him wanted to deny it all and say he could do it himself. He knew he couldn't.
"Crackers work." He breathed, sitting down on the barstool, the opposite side of the island.
Maybe this would go somewhere. Here, with Punz, he could be vulnerable. He could let his guard down.
Both of the blonds knew it was needed.