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Local Homeless Man Would Kill For Three Chaotic Teenagers. More At Eight.

Summary:

Dream’s life has become a hellish blur of white walls, multicolored blood, and silent isolation. Weeks slip by as he fights to stay sane.

Then one day, the guards shove three aliens into his room.
...
Three very small aliens.
...
Did they seriously want him to kill children?!
-
(Or: Incredibly lonely Dream pack-bonds almost immediately with three troublemaking teens. What’s the worst that could happen?)

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Ka-thunk, thunk.

181

Ka-thunk, thunk.

182

Ka-thunk, thunk.

183

Ka-thunk-

The ball bounced at an odd angle, sending it flying across the room.

Dream didn't flinch as it hit the wall a few inches away from his head.

After a few more ricochets it landed on the floor. Rolling to a stop a few feet away from where he was sitting.

He would only need to lean forward to grab it again.

...

Maybe later. Whenever the silence felt like it was about to melt his brain again.

...

He's learned why some people consider solitary confinement an inhumane punishment.

He'd heard scientists say that humans were social creatures. He always laughed at the thought before. Dream had never been happier than when he was sitting alone at home, Hope on his lap as he spent all day playing games or editing videos.

He could spend days like that, had done it multiple times, in fact. One time he'd managed to spend three weeks without leaving his house before Sapnap and George broke through his door, dragging him out to get some fresh air.

He missed them. Sapnap and George. He hoped that wherever they had ended up after their abduction, that they were together.

The last time he'd had any outside interaction was well over a few weeks now.

They'd dragged him out to the fighting ring again, with a small crowd gathered around to watch the carnage.

This time it was a weird bipedal narwhal he was up against, non-sentient. As far as he could tell at least.

Usually the fights would follow a pattern- get shoved into the ring, try not to look threatening, get attacked anyway, viciously kill whatever was attacking him, dissociate while the crowd cheered and wrote on futuristic tablets, then be dragged back to his cell.

But this last time Dream had been...

B̶o̶r̶e̶d̶. C̶u̶r̶i̶o̶u̶s̶. D̶e̶p̶r̶e̶s̶s̶e̶d̶. D̶E̶S̶P̶E̶R̶A̶T̶E̶.

...Careless.

He'd pretty much just stood there and watched as the narwhal creature rammed its thin horn through him, not having enough energy to care even though he'd done nothing but sleep the past several days.

The creature’s horn was a foot long and razor-sharp. He screamed, the pain and adrenaline snapping him awake for the first time in months.

The crowd froze at his choked shout, not even whispering their annoying clicky language before a few of the armed ones shoved their way through.

Dream could at least say he felt more alive in that moment than he'd been in a long time, his focus sharpening for the first time in months.

He'd automatically gripped at the creature's body, his tight grip kept it from thrashing around and doing more damage.

There was no way he'd be able to un-spear himself without help, the horn was too long and the thing still wanted him very dead.

Thankfully the guards shot the narwhal creature as soon as they entered the ring. He couldn't stop the scream that tore out of his throat as the horn was ripped out by the creature's collapse.

A few of the onlookers in the crowd shoved their way into the ring now that the narwhal thing was dead. Apparently they were the medical staff, as they started scanning and bandaging his wounds the moment they sat next to him.

One of them managed to sneak a needle into his arm. He was out before he could even try to smash its face in.

That'd been a few weeks ago. No one had entered his cell since then, and he hadn't been taken out.

The isolation was killing him more than any of the experiments ever could, every thought was blurring together until he couldn't remember what was real.

He was at the point of actually wishing that they'd need to come take a blood sample or something.

He rubbed his impalement scar, wincing as a dull ache flared. What was the narwhal creature's horn made out of? Horns could be made out of different things, right? What was a real narwhals made out of? Was it chitin? Or- what was that other thing- keratin? Were those different materials? Or were they different names for the same thing?

... Human nails were made out of keratin, right? But he remembered that nails were also made out of hair. Was hair also made with keratin, or are nails not made of keratin? He couldn't remember.

He desperately ached for the ability to google his questions, but he didn't have his phone. He doubted it'd work in space anyway.

He was only pulled out of his thoughts by the sudden whir of machinery. He rapidly blinked his eyes to unblur them, so he could watch today's meal fall from the ceiling chute.

Only a cube shaped water bottle fell down today. It was enough to get his blood pumping.

They only withheld food on the days they sent a creature to his cell.

He wasn't stupid, he knew they wanted him to eat whatever they threw in for him to kill, but they only stopped sending meals down for a couple of days before they'd start back up again.

He was never desperate enough to eat the raw meat off of what he killed, especially from the few sentient aliens they tossed in.

A̶l̶t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶ t̶h̶e̶ i̶d̶e̶a̶ s̶o̶u̶n̶d̶e̶d̶ m̶o̶r̶e̶ p̶a̶l̶a̶t̶a̶b̶l̶e̶ t̶h̶a̶n̶ i̶t̶ n̶o̶r̶m̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ d̶i̶d̶. I̶f̶ o̶n̶l̶y̶ b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ i̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶ s̶o̶m̶e̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ d̶i̶f̶f̶e̶r̶e̶n̶t̶ t̶h̶a̶n̶ t̶h̶i̶s̶ e̶n̶d̶l̶e̶s̶s̶ h̶e̶l̶l̶i̶s̶h̶ m̶o̶n̶o̶t̶o̶n̶y̶.

As awful as it was, he was already excited for the inevitable fight.

It gave him the energy to stand up. He retrieved his water bottle and the ball, dropping both items off in his pathetic nest he had built in the back right corner of the room.

It was an ugly thing, and he thinks if any nesting species saw it they'd keel over and die from second hand embarrassment.

It only had three grey worn blankets in it, loosely layered over each other to give the illusion of a structure.

It wasn't even good enough to sleep in, the cold from the hard floor often chilling him to the bone when he laid down to sleep.

He moved to the center of the room, warming up his arm and legs as he walked. Going into a fight with cold muscles was a mistake you only made once.

The haze that'd taken over his life caused him to miss a few days, but for the most part he'd still been able to keep up with an exercise routine.

Two times a day he'd do a few sets of push-ups, crunches, lunges, anything he could remember from his mom's old workout tapes.

He didn't think he was doing them completely right. But he figured as long as he was careful not to hurt himself, anything was better than nothing. There was only so much one could do in space after all, and he'd never been the gym-bro type. He'd hardly ever even left his computer chair when he'd been back on earth.

Once again the whirl of machinery dragged him out of his thoughts. The door to his room was opening.

He’d tried escaping the first few times, violently shoving his way past the guards the second the door opened. It didn't do any good.

It just led to a smaller entryway, where there was another door that had already been shut long before he could try to escape.

The punishment was usually just a whack from one of the guards weak electrified batons, before the room was filled with a sweet smelling gas that knocked him out cold.

Eventually, he just stopped trying. It didn't make a difference anyway.

Two guards appeared first, the faceless, bone white insectoids no doubt dragging in whatever they wanted him to kill today.

Three figures were shoved into the room. One stumbled to its knees, while the other two tried to fight their way back out. Failing when the smallest one got hit with the electrified end of a baton. It screamed and flung itself backward.

The other one- a birdlike creature with yellow feathers and bright red wings- screeched and lunged toward it, dragging the smaller alien away from the guards and towards the tallest one, which was pushing itself up off the floor.

The guards left and the door slammed shut.

He blinked.

All of them were species he'd been unfortunate enough to encounter before. All three of them sentient. That wasn't the problem, he knew how to fight them.

The problem was...

"What the fuck?"

The rough words slipped out without thought. They were small. Tiny. Two of them weren't even up to his damn ribcage.

Even the black and white one that towered over him was smaller than it should be. The ones he normally fought reached heights of fourteen-fifteen feet easily. This one was barely brushing eight.

He didn't think it was a gender difference- he's pretty sure he already knew what those looked like for these species.

The shortest one's species was what Dream had dubbed 'Space Satyrs' because that was almost exactly what they looked like. They were a bipedal species with hooved feet and hands, with curly, thick, and soft hair that would grow on their legs and head.

The females- he was assuming, going by every biology class he'd had on earth- had small front facing horns that barely curved, but the males got huge, and their horns curved like a rams. If they had the distance to charge, then you'd better dodge. The force they could exert was enough to break bone, as Dream's left arm could tell you.

He couldn't tell if there was any gender difference between the birds he'd fought. He couldn't follow the logic from earth, where females were typically dull browns or something, as every single one he'd seen had one bright color or another mixed into its feathers.

But regardless of that, even the shortest of them had reached his shoulders, most standing just a couple inches taller than his chin. They fought with their beaks and feet like roosters, a bite hard enough to draw blood with two inch spurs that would stab at you repeatedly until you threw them off.

He decided to call the tall black ones slendermen. Their body proportions were unnaturally thin, with long whip like tails that had tufts of hair on the ends.

There wasn't any animal he could think to compare them to, but going off the same logic he had used for the satyrs, the males would be the ones the longer horns. They reminded him of a dragons, smooth and black like the rest of their carapace, gently curving backwards and tapering at the ends.

Their hands had razor sharp claws that could slice through skin and muscle like butter. The first time he'd fought one its claws sliced through his arm. The medics hadn't been able to keep the wound from scaring, and it'd left an ugly mark on his right bicep.

Although this one was half white, it was undoubtedly the same species.

All three were facing him now, the smallest two in front with the tall one behind them.

The bird was hissing at him, its feathers puffed out and showing off the baby soft down that covered it. It reminded him of a baby chicken. An extremely pissed baby chicken mind you, but one nonetheless.

The Satyr wasn't any calmer, scraping its hooves against the ground threateningly. He didn't know what it was planning to intimidate him with though, considering he could only just barely see the tips of its horns poking through the thick, curly short hair on its head.

At least the Slenderman didn't look like it was itching for a fight, shoulders hunched and ears angled down. Its tail was wrapped around its own leg, eyes pointed at the ground as it mumbled soft 'Vwoops'.

Did.... Did they just throw children in here for him to kill?

Dream shifted, leaning his weight on his back foot instead of his front one, no longer ready to lunge foward.

Unfortunately it seemed that the bird was just waiting for him to move, as the moment he shifted it let out a furious screech that echoed off the white metallic walls before it launched at him.

Its wings flared as it hurtled towards him feet first, sharp spurs aimed straight at his face. His muscle memory kicked in before he even realized it.

A jolt of panic shot through him. He didn't want to hurt a kid! But his hand was already moving to...

Snatch it around the ankles. Holding it in the air one handed as it furiously squawked in offense.

He let out a shaky breath of relief, grateful that the muscle memory kicking in was the one used for handling chickens back on Earth, and not the one for brutal murder.

The bird was surprisingly light. His grip felt secure even as it thrashed, swinging itself back and forth while making distressed chirps.

The Satyr, who had frozen when the bird launched off like a rocket, decided now was a good time to join in the fight.

It dipped its head as it charged, aiming its tiny horns straight at his stomach. Getting stabbed didn't sound like a fun thing to do again, so he twisted to the side. Dodging it was easy when the thing couldn't even see past its own hair.

At the last second he snagged the back of its shirt, keeping it from charging him again and keeping it from ramming head first into the wall.

The bird took advantage of his distraction, yanking one leg free and using the newfound leverage to swing up and peck his arm hard.

"Yowch!" Dream yelped as its beak fucking twisted. "Would you stop that?! I'm not gonna- shit!"

The bird got violently yanked to the side as Dream's arms flailed to keep his balance, stumbling a few steps as the Satyr ran into him, trying to push him over.

He was barely able to himself from mule-kicking the kid, instead widening his stance until he was steady against the shoving.

The longer the fight went on the harder it got to not lash out. He needed to find a way to end this before he hurt them, but how was supposed to do that?

He was coming to a sickening realization that he had no clue how to fight without the end goal of killing his opponent.

The bird’s foot lashed out wildly, pure panic behind every movement. Its spur caught Dream in the arm, sinking a good half-inch into his bicep before getting torn out again.

A startled yell ripped from his throat as instinct took over. He flung the bird away without thinking, sending it flying across the room.

Once again he was reminded of how light the thing was when instead of just landing a few feet away from him, it slammed into the wall.

It collided wings first with a solid bang. It screamed, a loud, piercing screech that didn't quite cover the sharp snap that echoed in the room.

The bird dropped like a stone, curling in on itself after hitting the floor. Tiny, pathetic little chirps spilled from its beak as it trembled.

The Satyr froze at the sound, the fight leaving it in an instant. It bleated weakly and scrambled toward the downed bird, completely forgetting about Dream in its panic.

Dream let go of it immediately, stepping back and letting it stumble over its companion. It fell to its knees, speaking softly as its hands grabbed at the bird.

The tall one moved for the first time since the doors shut. Its long legs covered the distance quickly as it rushed towards the others.

The Slenderman knelt down, still towering over them even while sitting. It leaned forward, ears pinned back and hands hovering hesitantly over the bird’s limp wings, not quite touching.

Dream's breathing was ragged, from both exertion and from the cold weight of dread he could feel wash over him.

Shit. Shit!

"Damnit! You fucking idiots! Why would you try to fight someone twice your size? Do you have a fucking death wish or something?!"

He barely kept himself from shouting the words. Probably for the best considering his voice was already cracking from speaking more in the last thirty minutes than he had in months.

The group still flinched back, and the Slenderman curled over the other two completely. Protecting them from any danger.

Protecting them from Dream.

He was self aware enough to recognize the mixture of fear and anger pumping through his veins was dangerous. He'd never had a great grip on his emotions, and he was willing to bet that any control he might've once had was long gone by now.

He could feel he was close to snapping, one wrong step away from losing any and all control over himself. In the past all that would've meant was either a temper tantrum or a panic attack.

He had no clue what would happen if he lost control right now, and he didn't want to find out.

He took a few deep breaths, bracing himself against the overwhelming emotional rollercoaster he'd just been on.

Don't get him wrong, he was glad he wasn’t still staring blankly at the wall. But he could’ve done without the abrupt switch from the mind numbingly silent isolation to three loud, hostile children trying to maim him.

Well, make that two. The tall one hadn't tried fighting him yet, thankfully.

He took a step back. Then he took another one, creeping slowly backwards and away from the children he'd just terrified.

When his back finally hit the wall he slid down it, never taking his eyes off of the group as he eased into a sitting position.

The gash on his arm throbbed in time with his pulse. He gritted his teeth to keep from making any noise.

The bird was doing better now, squawking at the Slenderman and batting at it with its taloned hands as it tried to sit up.

Some of the dread lifted, washed away by the relief that he hadn't killed a kid.

Thankfully it didn't seem like they were rearing for a fight again, only glancing at him nervously as they tried to move the bird into the opposite corner of the room without aggravating its wing.

The room froze when the sound of machinery started up again, the tension that'd settled into a low thrum sparking back up like a live wire.

Dream glanced up at the dispenser as it dropped a single water bottle into the floor.

Nothing else fell from it.

"Shit."

Notes:

Woo! First DSMP fanfiction! I'm just gonna go ahead and say it right now, I don't know much of the irl drama, and I don't care. I'm just here to have fun and write these silly lil guys lol

Anyway, hope y'all like it!

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Summary:

Water shenanigans :)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The room was silent as the water cube bounced off the ground, the rubbery material it was made out of absorbing the shock of the fall, keeping it from breaking on impact.

Dream glanced up at the aliens, startling when he saw all three were staring straight at him. The Satyr had a desperate look in its eyes, its gaze darting back and forth between Dream and the water cube rapidly.

It moved before Dream could decide what to do, dashing for the water and snatching it with fumbling hands before quickly scrambling away, the stolen water cube clutched close to its chest.

The sudden movement sent a bolt of fear through him, and he was on his feet again before he realized it. A vicious snarl echoed loudly in the nearly empty room. Belatedly, he realized the sound was coming from him.

He took a half-step forward, just barely stopping himself from chasing down the Satyr as it turned its back to run away.

It tried to stop its momentum before it ran into its group, but its hooves couldn't get a grip on the smooth, marble-like surface of the floor, and it ended up crashing face first into the tall one's side with a yelp.

The impact made the Slenderman let out a startled hiss, then a concerned croon as it kept the smaller one from falling over. The Satyr didn’t try to stand up again. Its breathing was fast and shaky, and it collapsed when it tried to sit down.

The Slenderman pulled it close- careful of its own sharp claws- and gently held it as it trembled. Then the Satyr hid the stolen water cube behind its back, like Dream would just forget about it if he didn't see it.

The Bird's feathers puffed up as it hissed at him, its unbroken wing lifting up to cover the Satyr. It wasn't very threatening when it was still tucked safely into the lap of the tall one, a gangly limb protectively circled around it.

Dream forced the snarl to die in his throat when he realized none of them were attacking.

His hands trembled even as he clenched them into fists, his breathing fast and thin as he fought down the urge to fight, rip, tear them apart-

The familiar, twisted mix of disgust and satisfaction burned deep in his gut. Dream was uncomfortably used to the feeling.

He hated killing things. Absolutely hated it. Hated what it would turn him into.

He preferred it to the nothingness brought on by sitting in his cell- Anything was better than nothing- But he'd take just about anything else over the volatile burst of emotions that (usually) came out when he fought.

He hated the burning white anger he would feel. The adrenaline. The fear.

The sick, twisted sense of satisfaction.

He enjoyed it, sometimes, when he loomed over an alien that he didn't have to kill. The look of terror in their eyes as they realized there was nothing they could do against him, that they were at his mercy.

He always felt cold after the feeling left, leaving an empty hole in his chest when he was alone in his cell again, with nothing but his deteriorating mind to pass the time.

He didn't know what that meant about him, that he liked it when they cowered away from him. He didn't particularly care to find out.

He retreated to his nest in the corner before sitting down again, settling as far away from them as he possibly could.

It doesn't take them long to pull out the cube again, nervously glancing in his direction every few seconds to see if he'll react to it. He stays still, not wanting to risk spooking them.

The Satyr unsealed it after deeming Dream's non-reaction satisfactory, sipping until the cube was halfway empty. Then it passed it to the Bird, gently supporting its shaky talons as it slowly drank the remaining liquid.

Dream frowned, brow furrowing as he watched them discard the cube.

They didn't save any water for the tall one.

It didn't seem distressed, its sharp claws gently carding through red and yellow feathers as the Bird cooed. But as far as Dream knew, water was a necessity for every living thing, right?

Maybe they were prioritizing the smaller two? It's possible they were younger than Dream thought.

Dream glanced down at the water cube he'd gotten earlier that day, considering it. A full cube was larger than a water bottle was back on earth, if he had to guess he'd say they were about 25 ounces.

He should help them. Even beyond the fact that they were children, he owed them. A broken bone was a bad thing to have here, and their captors probably wouldn't bother to fix it.

Dream had the luxury of being interesting enough- he assumed that's what they kept him around for, anyway- that the faceless fuckers would heal his injuries, but he'd fought against aliens who'd been tossed into the arena with gaping wounds or limbs so twisted that it was obvious they had been broken then healed wrong.

They had tossed these three in for Dream to kill. There was no way there'd be any kind of medical attention for them.

Dream picked up his cube, unsealing the corner and bringing the edge to his lips. He drank it slowly, eyeing the aliens as they spoke amongst themselves. He still couldn't make out any words. It seemed no two species shared the same language, and Dream had never had much luck with learning the earsplitting clicking of his captors.

The group of kids seemed to have settled down now, only occasionally glancing at Dream instead of staring him down like their lives depended on it.

He finished his half of the water quickly, checking the amount every few sips to make sure he didn't get too greedy by accident.

Now it was time for the tricky part: giving them the water without causing another incident.

His plan was to slide it across and hope that they didn't take it as an attack. He didn't want to fight them again. Even though the Bird was down for the count and the Satyr was a non-issue, the Slenderman's razor sharp claws were something he wasn't in a hurry to deal with again.

He re-sealed the cube, pressing the top down until it melded seamlessly back together like it'd never been opened at all. He stood up slowly, needing to be a few feet closer before he could slide it over. If he didn't want to send it flying, anyway.

Their heads snapped over to look at him, the Bird letting out a panicked warble even though he was moving at a snail's pace.

Every step he took made them tenser, and he was only able to walk a handful of paces closer before he thought it was too risky to keep going. He'd ended up a little over halfway to them. Further than he thought he'd get, honestly.

He crouched down, pausing at the warning bleat from the Satyr, who tilted its horns towards him as it moved in front of the other two.

The Bird was making a rattling hiss, taloned hands tightly gripping the bottom of the Satyrs jacket. He did feel bad about breaking its wing, but he couldn't say he regretted it when it meant the Bird couldn't lunge at him again.

The Slenderman watched him with a nervous gaze, eyes anxiously darting around the room before landing on him, then looking away and repeating the cycle again.

This was the best chance he was gonna get, so he went ahead and placed the cube on the ground, letting them see what it was for a few seconds before he slid it forward.

It stopped a few inches from the Satyr's hooves, who stared at the cube with wide eyes.

It tentatively reached for it, staring Dream straight in the eyes as it suddenly snatched the cube up. It held it tightly, watching Dream for his reaction with shallow breaths.

He leaned back a few inches, giving them a little more space, watching them as they started to talk.

They were whispering to each other, or whatever counted as whispering for their species. Quiet warbling, chirping, and humming filled the previously dead quiet air.

Dream couldn't understand any of it, of course, but at least the Bird had stopped hissing, and the Satyr looked less like it was about to try and run him through again.

Then the Satyr peeled it open, and brought the cube over to the Bird again.

Well, that wasn't what he wanted to happen.

"Stop that."

They froze at his creaking voice, looking at him like a group of deer caught in someone's headlights. The tension that they'd finally eased out of immediately snapped back at his words.

He sighed. Well, it was nice while it lasted. While he had their attention, he pointed at the water cube, then at the Slenderman.

"They need some too."

He repeated the gesture a few more times before it seemed to click, but their reactions caught him off guard, and he flinched back at the sudden cacophony of panicked noises.

The Bird let out a sharp, high-pitched screech, its good wing flapping in short, frantic bursts as it tried to push the Slenderman more firmly behind it. The Slenderman had to brace itself if it didn't want to fall over, hands pressing against the floor as it gave a startled 'Vwoop!'. The Satyr gave a horrified bleat, nearly spilling the water as it yanked it back against its chest, quickly sealing it shut again.

Did something get lost in translation? What in the actual shit was that reaction? He could only blink in confusion as they freaked out over... Something.

"Okay," he muttered, slowly raising his hands as he started to inch back. "Guess that's a no-go."

Apparently any movement was just something to completely avoid, because as soon as he moved the Satyr dropped the cube and lunged to its feet, immediately trying to charge him again.

Trying being the key word here, as the Slenderman snatched the back of its jacket before it could get more than a few steps, yanking it back and almost sending the whole group sprawling to the floor.

He took the opportunity given to him enthusiastically, quickly scrambling back and pushing himself to his feet, ignoring the terrified whimpers at his abrupt movement. He didn't want to be trapped on the floor if they decided to attack him again.

He was standing in the middle of the room now, towering over the terrified group as they cowered from him. Any of the satisfaction he'd felt earlier at their fear had shriveled up and died, leaving only the hollow feeling of bone-deep loneliness to drown in.

He slunk back over to his corner, shoulders slumping as he lost all of the energy he'd gotten from the aliens arrival.

Why did he even bother trying? Every creature he'd ever had the misfortune of meeting since his abduction had tried to kill him. No matter how nice Dream had been, no matter how many attacks he took without hitting back, no matter how much he had begged and pleaded- nothing ever changed.

What was even the point of throwing children in with him? To see how awful he was? To see if he'd kill them differently than he would've if they were adults? To make him suffer and then scribble about it in their little sci-fi notepads?

Maybe all the aliens he'd fought had been right to try to kill him on sight. Dream had killed so many things- so many people- there was so much blood on his hands. Maybe the aliens could tell just by looking at him that he was a monster.

He sat down in his blanket nest, pulling his knees up and laying his arms across them, burying his face to try to hide the tears welling up from the realization- the reality- that he'd die here. Alone.

He'd never get to see George and Sapnap again. Would never get to learn what happened to them, if they were okay after they got separated or if they'd been trapped in their own personal hells just like he had been. He hoped not. The idea of them being forced to fight for their lives like he was made him feel sick. They didn't deserve that.

He lost track of time, just sitting there and breathing through the soul-crushing despair that washed over him for what felt like hours. The world filtered back in when a sudden, sharp hiss dragged him out of his mind.

He looked up, glancing at the aliens across from him. They were arguing, quick words flying between the Satyr and the Slenderman, with the Bird occasionally pitching in with quick, shrill chirps. The Slenderman hissed something, its ears flicking back in annoyance as it waved a long, delicate hand in... some sort of emphasis at the Satyr.

It seems that the Slenderman won whatever debate they were having, carefully taking the re-sealed cube from the Satyrs tight grip.

It looked over at him, flinching back when it saw he was watching. A soft warble left its mouth, and Dream watched as it visibly psyched itself up, shoulders rolling back and ears perking up high as it made a soft screech at him.

Dream felt his eyebrows raise. He hadn't really expected the Slenderman to try anything, even if he had been prepared for any possible attacks. It had seemed ready to vibrate out of its skin anytime he so much as looked at it for too long, and any eye contact made it cringe away. He wondered what it was going to do.

He watched as it took the still sealed cube, bringing it up and tilting it to mimic the action of taking a drink. After placing the cube safely on the ground, it dramatically collapsed- careful not to jostle the Bird, who was still sitting on its lap- and started making comedically fake-sounding dying noises.

Ignoring the fact that he knew what it would actually sound like if it was dying for real, he thought he understood what it was trying to convey.

His heavy eyes blinked at it. "Can you... not drink water?"

That would explain the out of nowhere meltdown they'd all had. But the idea was so weird, so- well- alien, that his brain immediately wanted to reject it. Everything needed water to live, right?

"You... don't want to drink it because it'll hurt you?" He once again pointed at the Slenderman and the water, adding on a much less enthusiastic copy of the poor dying imitation at the end.

The Slenderman screeched again in what Dream could only assume was agreement- it was hard to pick out intent when all its vocalizations sounded like a monster from a horror movie- and the Bird gave a few head bobs, chirping something as its feathers rustled before flattening. The Satyr startled, sharing a look with the other two before looking back at him again. If Dream was reading their body language right, they all seemed surprised about something.

Dream slumped back against the wall with a long exhale, pressing his palms over his tired eyes.

"Okay. Sure. Tall guy can't drink water. Good to know. Totally normal."

Looks like he'd given up his water for nothing then. But as he watched the other two split it again, a happy trill leaving the Bird as its wings were carefully preened by hooves and claws, he couldn't really say he regretted it.

Notes:

Dream: Gives Ranboo water so he doesn't die of dehydration.

Ranboo, halfway convinced he’s hallucinating: "I'm not sure how I should take this? Am I being threatened???"

Tubbo & Tommy: "OH MY GOD IT’S TRYING TO KILL RANBOO!"

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Dream, look! This one looks like you!"

Dream takes a hasty step back, narrowly avoiding the branch Sapnap shoved towards his face.

"I look like a stick?" he asked, his face markedly unimpressed as Sapnap laughed.

"No, look- there's a caterpillar on the end. It's green, like you!"

Dream squinted, finally spotting the little worm-like bug clinging to the tip of the spindly branch. Its bright green body matched his hoodie almost perfectly.

"You think I'm small and disgusting?" Dream asked, completely deadpan. Sapnap jerked back, nearly smacking Dream in the face with the branch again.

"What? No!" Sapnap squinted suspiciously, clearly sensing Dream's insincerity.
"You jerk! Fine, I see how it is. See if I'm ever nice to you again!" He flung the branch dramatically, sending it spinning into the nearby bushes and giving the poor caterpillar the ride of its life.

Dream's eye twitched.

"You're not nice. You're awful. The absolute worst friends a man could be cursed with."

He crossed his arms and kicked at the dirt path, watching the dust cloud he stirred up blow away, determined to spend every second he was forced outside showing just how much he did not want to be there.

George hummed, stepping over a small, felled tree.
"I know- we're so terrible, making sure you don't get a vitamin D deficiency. How dare we?" He didn't even bother looking back at Dream as he walked ahead, glancing at the small river running alongside the path. A few frogs hopped along the bank, catching the bugs buzzing near the water's edge.

Sapnap turned, starting to walk backwards with his arms behind his head, somehow not tripping over a huge rock in the middle of the path.

"Dude, if you're not careful, one day you're gonna wake up with your screens permanently glued to your face!"

Dream scoffed, barely holding back a loud laugh as Sapnap tripped over a low-hanging branch. He would've landed face-first in a nasty looking patch of thorns if George hadn't grabbed him by the arm, nearly getting dragged down himself as Sapnap flailed to regain his balance.

"Yeah, having the ground imprinted on your face is so much better than a screen, huh?" Dream laughed, slowing to a stop to watch them struggle.

Sapnap very maturely flipped him off, almost losing his balance again before finally pulling himself upright. George leaned on his knees to steady himself, shooting Sapnap a glare as he caught his breath.

"Don't walk backwards on an unused, overgrown dirt trail in a forest, dumbass," George muttered, pushing himself up and fixing his shoe, which had slid halfway off during the chaos.

Sapnap laughed, completely unapologetic. "Yeah, maybe not the best idea. Sorry, George. Thanks for the save, though!"

George sighed, clearly regretting his life choices.

"So," Dream started, dodging a half-hearted shove from Sapnap and ducking behind George for safety, "how long until we get there?"

Both of his friends had teamed up to drag him out of his room, spouting stupid lines like, "It's not healthy to stare at screens so long, Dream," and, "When was the last time you got some sleep?" Never mind that the answer to the last question was over twenty-four hours, he was perfectly fine, thank you very much.

George had pulled him out the door, saying he'd found a weird looking sculpture deep in the forest and that he wanted to check it out again. Naturally, that meant dragging Dream along. Sapnap had been forced to come too, but he actually liked being outside, and was therefore considered another enemy.

All of this had started over two hours ago, and if Dream had to walk much longer, he might have to stage a mutiny. They still had to walk back, and his legs were already sore. Maybe he'd make George carry him home- would serve him right for hauling Dream out into the wilderness.

Dream despised nature. The sun shone down too brightly, often blinding him as he passed under the trees, the uneven path made his legs ache, the incessant buzzing of bugs around his head made him want to scream. It was all just too much. And more often than not, after outings like this, he would collapse into an exhausted huddle on his bed.

"We should be close." George stepped onto a branch that spanned the width of the path, pressing it down so Dream and Sapnap could hop across before he stepped off and let it snap back up behind him. "I think it's just a little further ahead."

"Unless you got lost," Sapnap said, looking far too amused by the idea.

Dream certainly didn't find it very funny.

"George, I swear, if you get us lost out here search and rescue will never find you." George ignored him, squinting through the trees as he pressed ahead.

"Right there- see?" George pointed toward something off the side of the trail.

Dream followed his finger, squinting against the bright sunlight and raising a hand to shield his eyes.

There it was. A few meters away, mostly hidden behind a crooked tree trunk, something white gleamed with a metallic shine.

"Huh. It looks different..." George muttered, stepping off the path and pushing through the thick foliage toward the statue.

Sapnap followed close behind, leaving Dream- who needed a moment to swallow back a sudden wave of apprehension- to dodge the branches snapping back in their wake as he rushed to catch up.

"Hey, watch it- shit!" he hissed as a branch with thorns whipped back and pierced straight through his hoodie sleeve, stabbing into the arm he'd raised to shield his face.

"Fuck, that stings! You're lucky it hit my arm, asshole! Stop flinging shit at me!"

Sapnap glanced back with a sheepish grin, still holding the branch he'd been about to let go of.

"Sorry, dude. Here- " He lifted the branch higher so Dream could duck underneath and step in behind George, who, unlike Sapnap, at least had the decency not to weaponize the local flora.

They all stopped when they finally reached it, staring in awe at the strange structure. Just looking at it made Dream's skin crawl.

It stood around eight feet tall and two feet wide, its surface smooth like marble with faint, wavy veins running through it. But marble shouldn't gleam like metal, and it definitely shouldn't glow.

Sharp, inward-angled lines had been carved along its surface, twisting together with smooth, rounded curves in a way that shouldn't have worked. It didn't even look like it should be able to support its own weight, yet according to George, it had already been here for weeks.

George stepped closer, circling the structure far too casually for Dream's liking.
"This is so weird. It was gray last week, and it definitely didn't have this whole..." he gestured vaguely at it, "glowing thing going on."

"Cool." Sapnap leaned in until his face hovered only a few inches from the surface. "How do you think they made it? Is it, like, transparent? It'd have to be to glow like that, right?"

Was Dream really the only one getting weirded out by this? Could they not feel that something was wrong?

"Okay, guys, you did it. You got me out of the house and showed me the creepy statue. Can we go home now?" Dream tried to sound irritated, but it came out weak, undercut by the unease pooling in his gut.

Sapnap groaned in exasperation.
"C'mon, Dream, can't you have a sense of adventure for like, three seconds?" He lifted his hand and poked the statue.

The hum of insects vanished. The rustle of small animals in the underbrush went silent. Even all the birdsong cut off mid-note. The forest dropped into a silence so thick that Dream could hear his own heartbeat pounding like a drum in his ears. The air itself seemed to hold its breath.

For one long second, nothing happened.

Then-

BANG!

A loud noise thundered through the air as a blinding white light washed out the area. The dead air turned violent, the wind roaring back to life in a frenzy, whipping around them like a tornado and sending the dry autumn leaves spiraling through the air.

Dream screamed, throwing an arm over his face as the light blinded him.
"GEORGE! SAPNAP!"

He reached out blindly, searching for them through the chaos- until his stomach lurched and the ground seemed to drop out from under him. His eyes snapped open, expecting to see himself plummeting, only to realize he was rising instead.

He floated up, weightlessly climbing higher and higher until the trees below looked like nothing but a solid sea of green. He could still hear George and Sapnap shouting somewhere next to him, their voices swallowed by the wind, but with nothing in the air to grab or kick off of, he couldn't turn around to find them.

The forest floor shrank until even the path they'd been walking minutes ago vanished from sight.

Then everything blurred. The world stretched and warped, half-formed images flickering past in a dizzying rush before collapsing into darkness. Suddenly he was standing in the middle of a black void, trembling as an overwhelming sense of wrong-wrong-wrong floods his veins with ice.

He staggers forward, shaky as a newborn fawn, desperately searching for Sapnap and George. He needs to find them before something bad happens.

The air feels as thick as molasses, every step dragging against invisible weights. Breathing hurts, coming in too thin and cold. He tries to call out their names, to beg for help, anything, but no sound comes out. The lump in his throat traps the words inside, no matter how much he wants to- needs to -scream.

He freezes as a heavy curtain of dread slams into him, like holding still might keep him safe. Then he hears it- a low, grating noise that scratches at his ears, building volume slowly as it turns into screams.

His heart stops when those screams twist into Sapnap and George's voices.

He bolts, taking off blindly as the echoes circle around him like he's on a carousel, bouncing until he can't tell where they're coming from. His heartbeat hammers in his skull, so loud it drowns everything else out.

He can't find them!

He stops dead in his tracks as the crushing, suffocating void presses in from all sides. He can't escape. Can't save his friends from the claws, the teeth, the scalpels- anything. His legs wobble like jelly, threatening to give out entirely. His chest heaves uncontrollably, each inhale sharp and shallow, each exhale a weak wheeze.

His arms tremble violently, his teeth chatter so hard it hurts, and the sound of it echoes in his own ears, loud, wrong, and unbearable.

He collapses to his knees, sinking into the invisible weight that's dragging him down. He presses his forehead into the cool floor of the void, body shaking so hard that his whole being feels on the verge of shattering.

He can't- he can't- he can't-!

-

Dream shoots up like he's being electrocuted, already halfway to a panic attack before he realizes where he's at. His lungs seize, dragging in ragged, useless gasps that don't even feel like real air. His chest heaves violently, but nothing sticks. His throat feels locked tight, like invisible hands are strangling the air out of him.

He folds in on himself, curling up as if he can hold himself together by force. His hands shake so violently that his chipped nails catch on the fabric of his hoodie, scraping over the frayed seams until some of the threads snap. 

This has happened before- enough times that he know what's happening, to be able to think through the panic- but it's still like trying to swim through glue. Every thought is slow and heavy, and most slip away before they can fully form.

He just has to breathe. He has to breathe. The words repeat like a broken mantra, frantic and useless, rattling in his skull as his body refuses to listen.

He forces his hands to unclench from where they'd latched onto his hoodie, pressing his palms against his face until bursts of color explode behind his eyelids. His fingernails dig into his scalp, leaving crescent-shaped indents that sting, the pain helping to ground him in reality.

The first lungful of air scrapes down his throat, more of a wheeze than a breath. Then another. And another. Each one jerks through him like his body's forgotten how to do it. The high, sharp ringing in his ears fades, replaced by the heavy thud of his heartbeat, and- faintly- the distant hum of the ship around him.

His muscles quake, aftershocks trembling through his arms and legs, but the worst of it is over now. The panic ebbs, leaving him hollowed out and bone-tired. He slumps against the cold floor, forehead pressed to his knees, breathing still uneven but feeling less like he's about to pass out.

He's reminded he's not alone when a soft rustle sounds behind him. Someone shifts, the quiet sounds of breathing breaking the quiet. Dream takes a deep breath, swiping his sleeve across his face before turning over to look.

Bird and Satyr are asleep, both of them slumped against Slenderman, who's wide awake and watching him. The alien lets out a low warble and quickly ducks its head away when Dream meets its gaze, tail curling tighter around Satyr's arm.

Dream sighs, exhaustion dragging at every movement. He doesn't even have the energy to feel much about the way they still flinch from him. Not right now.

He doesn't like them being scared of him. It's something he wants to fix eventually, if only because he's getting tired of being charged at whenever he so much as breathes near them.

But that's a problem for later, when his mind isn't as tired and sluggish. For now, he just resolves to doze- he's not getting real sleep after that nightmare- and he'll try again later to prove he's not a threat.

Slenderman, apparently, has other plans. It lets out a soft vwoop, a questioning sound that catches Dream's attention. When he finally looks up- careful to avoid direct eye contact, since that always seems to make it nervous- the alien gestures toward itself. Its long fingers pinch together midair, pointing at itself, accompanied by another quiet warble.

It repeats the sound a few times, leaving short pauses in between. Each time, it watches Dream expectantly, waiting for him to do... something.

"...Wabo?" Dream repeats, not really trying.

Its face scrunches, it looks so unimpressed that Dream has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. The alien repeats the word again, tone slightly exaggerated this time, and Dream finally realizes that it's trying to tell him something.

He pushes himself upright, the threadbare blanket slipping around his shoulders as he tries again.
"Raboo?"

That earns him a flick of its ears. It emphasizes the middle sound this time, slower, clearer.

"Ranboo?"

He must've gotten it right, as the alien gives a quiet, delighted screech, ears flicking forward and up as the tip of its tail wags. Dream can't help the tired smile that tugs at his lips.

He's still trying to figure out what the word he just learned means when the alien repeats the same gesture, this time towards Dream. He tilts his head, confused. They gesture again, first to themself, saying "Ranboo," then to Dream, without saying anything.

When Dream doesn't catch on to whatever they're trying to convey, they huff, glancing at the other two sleeping aliens. Slenderman points to both of them and repeats the process, having Dream echo back the strange, stilted syllables. "Tommy" and "Tubbo". It takes a few tries to get each pronunciation right, but eventually Slender's tail flicks approvingly. Then, once more, they point to Dream and fall silent.

It takes him longer than it really should've, but eventually he thinks- Oh.
That's their names.

He glances between the three of them, ignoring... Ranboo's? nervous fidgeting as he withdraws one arm from his blanket cocoon. Slowly, he points at Slenderman.
"Ranboo."

Their ears perk up immediately, flicking in excitement.

Pointing at Bird, he says "Tommy," then pointing at Satyr, saying "Tubbo". Each name earns another happy flick from Ranboo's tail.

Then Ranboo points at him again. Dream freezes for a second, finally realizing what they're asking. He gulps heavily, his palms starting to sweat. He mimics the earlier gesture, pinching his fingers together and pointing them at his chest.

"Dream."

Ranboo's ears twitch. Their eyes narrow in concentration as they try to copy the sound.
"Dem?"

Dream shakes his head lightly, repeating his name slower, putting more weight on the r.

Ranboo tries again. "Dream?"

A small, genuine smile tugs at Dream's lips as he nods. "Yeah, Dream."

He pauses, then points towards them all again. "Tommy- Tubbo- Ranboo-" Finally, he points to himself again- "Dream."

Ranboo repeats his name again, and Dream hadn't realized how much he's missed hearing it until now. It's not just because it's his name- he's not that self-absorbed- it's the sound of something familiar, a word he actually understands after so long of being surrounded by nothing but unintelligible noise and dead silence.

They don't fall quiet afterwards, Ranboo keeps talking to him, soft trills and warbles filling the air, quiet enough not to wake the other two. Sometimes they repeat a sound until Dream echoes it back, even though he has no idea what he's learning. It's... Nice.

Eventually, the speaking trails off. Ranboo looks like he's losing the fight to stay awake, each blink lingering a little longer than the last. Dream isn't sure if he's imagining it or not, but faint flickers of violet seem to occasionally sweep across Ranboo's eyes.

Tubbo and Tommy are still curled up against Ranboo's side, their breathing slow and even. The quiet, safe vibe of the room seeps into Dream's bones.

Dream feels himself drifting off too, far more relaxed than he usually is after such an intense nightmare. For the first time since waking up in this awful cell, the silence doesn't feel unbearable.

Just as sleep threatens to pull him under, he hears something off- heavy boots thudding against the floor outside.

He jolts upright, heart hammering, and glances toward Ranboo, whose ears have angled sharply toward the noise.

Ranboo stiffens, ears flattening against his skull, his tail releasing Tubbo and coiling tightly around his own leg instead. He quickly shakes the other kids awake. They stir, bleary and confused, caught somewhere between reality and dreamland.

Dream's heart thumps an erratic staccato behind his ribs. The guards never come back this soon after dropping off new aliens, they always wait a few days before hauling out any bodies. So why are they here now?

The door's mechanisms click and whir, then release with a sharp hiss. Then blinding white light floods the room as it slides open.

Notes:

I finally got another chapter done! Woohoo! I got a bit stuck after the flashback scene, but I eventually figured it out. Of course, it probably would've helped if I stopped writing two dozen different stories at the same time, but oh well ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ 

And this isn't related to anything, but I remember reading someone's heartbeat being described as a staccato in another fix and it's really stuck with me, so I had to write it in this lol.

Anyways, ✨drama✨