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Phil woke up in pain.
He was used to sometimes waking up in pain — to an extent. Bandaged injuries stinging after a fight. Back sore after sleeping on the ground under a starry sky. Wings aching from a pain that would never truly heal.
But never like this.
Everything hurt, a dizzying, throbbing pain that left him breathless, staring up at the ceiling. What was wrong? Why was he having so much trouble breathing? Why were his hands in so much pain? Why did everything feel wrong?
Phil eventually forced himself out of bed, staggering into the wall, bracing one arm against it, wings slightly out to steady himself. He let out a slow breath, frowning down at himself, studying his hands. Nothing seemed wrong. Certainly his hands looked no different from yesterday. What could have possibly happened overnight that left him feeling this awful?
A stab of pain in his hand made him hiss under his breath, pulling his arm up against himself until it faded. He stared down at it, stretching out his fingers, trying to figure out what was wrong. Did he fall down a flight of stairs in his sleep? Get trampled by a ravager while unconscious? There was absolutely nothing he could think of that should have caused this much pain so suddenly.
He muttered a curse under his breath. If he didn’t have things that needed to get done today, he probably would have just fallen back into bed and tried to numb everything with a weakness potion or two. Healing pots tended to not do much for lingering aches. But pets still needed to be fed, meals prepared, and needed to change Dream’s bandages as well. The first two he could nudge Techno into taking over for the day, but the piglin hybrid was far from expert at bandaging injuries, and they both agreed it was better if Phil took care of it.
Phil briefly closed his eyes, letting out a long breath. Even that hurt more than it should. Maybe he’d take a weakness potion after all, once he helped Dream. He should be awake by now, anyway.
Tossing a glass at his messy bed and fully deciding to ignore it, Phil pulled his door open, moving into the hall. He took his robe off the hook, tying it as he went, and then pulling open the front door. It was bitterly cold out, but he was in it for only a few seconds before stepping into the warmth of Techno’s cabin.
He had already shut the door by the time he realized he’d forgotten his hat. Phil frowned through the window for a few seconds, bracing himself against the window frame, before deciding that it really wasn’t worth the effort, and just picked up the basket of bandages, potions, and medical supplies that was always left on the side table these days. His hands still hurt. All of him still hurt. It made his movements slower, hesitant of any new pain it would bring. Prime, what was wrong?
Phil shook himself. He’d had worse. He couldn’t think of an exact time now, but he’d been through countless wars, and he had definitely had worse. He could go and down potions and mope about it once he’d helped Dream.
The door to the guest room was open enough to see a crack of light, and Phil knocked lightly on the doorframe before pushing it open and stepping inside.
Dream’s eyes — a mismatch of dull green and faded white — immediately went to him. He didn’t move, already sitting up in his bed, one bandaged hand compulsively rubbing over the other. He looked better than he had a few weeks ago — a bit more color in his face, bruises a dull yellow instead of deep purple, less bandages wrapped over torn, burned skin. But there were still enough bandages that they needed to be changed fairly regularly, hence Phil’s near-daily visits.
“Morning,” Phil said, and realized a few seconds later how tight the pain was making his voice sound. He cleared his throat. “Ah, good morning, Dream.” That was better. Marginally. Prime, he just wanted to go back to sleep. “Doing alright there, mate?”
Dream’s gaze drifted over to the window, and he lifted his shoulders in a minuscule shrug. “Fine,” he mumbled. “Can we just — just get this over with?”
“Sure thing,” Phil said lightly. He was well aware how much Dream hated enduring any type of medical treatment, and changing his bandages was no exception. “Shouldn’t take more than —“ He had stepped forward, with the intent to go sit on the edge of Dream’s bed as he always did, but a spasm of pain went up his left leg, making it buckle and sending him hard to one knee. He gritted out a curse under his breath.
“What — what’s wrong?” Dream demanded, his voice cracking slightly as it rose. “Wh — Phil? Phil, what’s wrong?”
Phil let out a low, carefully controlled breath, closing his eyes for a moment, before he gritted out, “I’m fine, mate. Just — just some odd pains, y’know. When you get to be my age….” He trailed off, pushing himself to his feet. He leaned against the doorframe for a moment to steady himself.
“Are you hurt?” Dream demanded. His shaking hands were gripping the edges of the blankets. He looked like he was halfway to deciding to get up, which he really shouldn’t be doing. His left leg was still healing from a nasty break, and the last thing he needed to do was put weight on it. “Are — are you —?”
“I’m fine,” Phil said with another stab at airiness, waving a hand. He left the very stable wall and moved to drop down — slowly, carefully — on the edge of Dream’s bed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “I’ll just probably go right back to bed after this, if I’m being perfectly honest.”
“You can go now,” Dream said. “You don’t have to — to wait.” His hands were still fidgeting with the blankets. “You’re — hurt.” He scanned Phil’s face, eyes slightly narrowed. “Why’d you come here if you were hurt?”
Phil shrugged, already taking out bandages and antiseptics. “It’s not — that bad, really. And we do have to change your bandages; can’t afford to let any infections get to you.”
“You don’t have to do it today,” Dream argued. He still let Phil take his hand without resisting. The trembling in it never stopped, as far as Phil could tell. “I never got this much medical treatment in Pandora, and it was fi—“
“Don’t say it was fine,” Phil said lightly, carefully turning over Dream’s hand and starting to unwrap the bandages. “We both know it wasn’t.”
“It’s not going to kill me if you come back later,” Dream said. “You’re hurt.”
“So are you, mate.”
“But I’m — fine,” Dream insisted. “It’s not even that bad; it’s so much less than it was before. I’m barely even hurting today, it’s not — it’s fine.”
“Because we’ve been good about keeping up with it,” Phil replied. “Really, don’t worry about me. Not like this happens that often, anyway.” Most of his attention was on the bandages around Dream’s hand; it helped distract him at least a bit from the pain. The lights still seemed far too bright, the walls a bit wobbly. “Let me know if I’m hurting you; I know it’s still sensitive.” He continued unwinding the bandages, ignoring the yet-unexplained pain in his own hands. Carefully, Phil pulled back a bit of the bandages that had a tendency to get caught. “You alright?”
“It’s fine,” Dream muttered. “It’s always fine when you do it; you know that. Sam just sucked at it. You don’t have to keep ask —“
There was a stab of pain in Phil’s hand as he tugged back the last of the bandages, and he hissed under his breath, grabbing one hand with the other and almost doubling over, trying to relieve some of the pain.
“What happened?” Dream demanded. “What — Phil! What happened?”
Phil didn’t answer for a moment, focusing instead on breathing so he didn’t start loudly cursing.
“Philza! What’s wrong?”
“It’s fine,” Phil said through gritted teeth. “Just a — moment, lad.”
“It’s not — fine, you’re hurt. What did you do? What happened?” Dream’s voice had risen again.
Forcing himself to straighten and release his hand, Phil tried for a smile. “It’s just some old pains, I’m sure. Nothing happened. Nothing I can think of, anyway. Don’t worry about it; I’ll down a couple potions after this and be just fine.”
“Something had to have happened.” Dream’s un-bandaged palm was slowly welling up with blood, but he didn’t seem to notice. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” Phil said firmly. “I’m ten thousand years old, mate. Bound to have a bit of chronic pain now and again.”
Dream didn’t look like he believed him. “You’ve never had this before,” he said. He moved his hand to press his fingers over the opposite palm, applying a bit of pressure to the wound to slow the blood. Phil’s hand chose that moment to have another spasm of pain, and he pressed his hand over it, muttering a curse.
Something shifted in Dream’s expression, something uneasy. He looked down at his hand, then at Phil. Slowly, not taking his eyes off Phil, Dream tightened the pressure on his palm, digging his fingers into the barely-healing injury.
Phil’s hand was on fire with pain, and he got about halfway through another curse before breaking off, gritting his teeth. Prime. Prime, that hurt.
Dream released his palm. Some of the pain in Phil’s hand lessened. Dream’s fingers were dripping red with blood, and his expression was somewhere on the edge of dread. “Techno!” he shouted, his voice cracking, and the unexpectedly raised tone made Phi jerk back a bit. “Techno!”
There was a muffled bang, a voice from somewhere above them, and then thundering footsteps, before Techno burst into the room, sword in hand, glasses askew.
“Heh? What’s — what’s goin’ on?” Techno demanded, turning in a hurried circle before focusing in on Dream. “What’s wrong?”
“Phil’s reacting to my pain,” Dream said flatly.
Techno blinked, lowering his sword. “Well. Yeah. Kinda sucks to see you in pain, y’know.”
“No, no, he’s — he’s reacting to it,” Dream said, more urgently. “He —“ Dream broke off, as if impatient for Techno understand whatever under Prime he was talking about, and dug his fingers back into the cut in his palm.
Phil couldn’t stop a gasp at the abrupt pain, and the realization that came crashing down with it. “Oh, goddess…,” Phil muttered. He looked at Techno, who seemed to understand a split second later.
“…You’re feelin’ Dream’s pain?” Techno said, his voice carefully even. He slowly slid his sword back into its sheath.
Phil looked down at his hand, at the inexplicable, awful pain there. And then at Dream’s, at the deep, bleeding cut. Thought about the pain he’d been in since waking up. At the damaged state that Dream was still in. “Think so, mate.”
“Why?” Techno asked. “How — how’d this even happen?” He looked so lost.
“No idea,” Phil said. This… wasn’t great. It was an explanation, but it certainly wasn’t one that Phil liked. “Nothing I did, anyway. Dream, did you —?”
“No.” Dream’s answer was immediate and abrupt. His eyes were focused on somewhere past both of them. He was shaking. He started talking more quickly, as if desperate to make them understand. “It’s not something that should happen here, not on this server. Not unless something is really wrong, or someone else did something, but I haven’t been able to check anything lately with the server, so I don’t know, and I — I can’t check, and I can’t fix it, so it — I can’t fix it,” he said, looking at Techno and Phil almost desperately. “I don’t know how this happened, I swear I don’t, and I — I can’t fix it, I don’t —“
“Hey, hey.” Phil took Dream’s non-bleeding hand carefully in his, ignoring the pain.“It’s alright, mate.” It wasn’t ideal, obviously. But it was something that they now, for whatever reason, had to deal with. And Dream had already been dealing with this, every day. Phil would just have to deal with it too, at least until they could figure out how to fix it. Phil had seen this on other Servers a long time ago, this — linked pain — and surely there was a way to undo it, even if they had no idea how or why it had suddenly started.
“No it’s not,” Dream said incredulously, his voice rising. “How — how under Prime is this fine? It’s not fine, this isn’t fine —“
“Nothing I’m feeling is any worse than what you’re feeling,” Phil said firmly. That alone brought another stab of unease; Dream had just been insisting that he was fine, that he was even in less pain than usual. And this was what ‘less pain’ felt like to Dream? The boy hadn’t even been reacting to the same pain that left Phil breathless. “You were the one saying you were fine.”
“For me,” Dream said. “Not — not for you.” His chest was rising and falling rapidly under the bandages, and he looked desperately at Techno. “Can’t you like — like give me weakness potions to just knock me out or something? Would that fix anything? You can’t feel my pain if I’m just unconscious, right? Right?”
“We are not overdosing you on potions just to knock you out, are you insane?” Phil demanded. “Absolutely out of the question. You’re dangerously high on potions already. We can’t risk making it worse.”
“But you’re worse,” Dream insisted. “What if — what if you take a bunch of healing potions or something? Then maybe you would be fine?”
Phil shook his head. “Can’t risk it. Don’t know how or if that would affect you now, if the effects would carry over. That could get really dangerous for you, really fast. Besides, I’m
not the one injured. Potions won’t exactly do much.”
“Phil’s right,” Techno said firmly, cutting across Dream before he could protest. “We’ll… figure somethin’ out. There’s gotta be way to fix this. First, Phil — one to ten?”
Feeling Dream’s eyes on him, Phil tried to asses his pain levels to his and Techno’s long-standing scale.
“Don’ sugarcoat,” Techno warned. “One to ten. We gotta figure this out.”
Phil sighed. “Maybe… six.”
“Six?” Dream cried. “Wh — six?”
“Dream, on a scale of one to ten, where are ya at right now?” Techno asked, turning to him. How his voice was still so even, Phil had no idea.
“Why does that matter? Why are you asking me?” Dream demanded. “You should just —“ He broke off, drawing back, jerking his hand away from Phil. “You can’t even just get rid of me anymore, or just kill me, because then Phil will — what do we do?”
“Righ’ now, just answer one to ten,” Techno said firmly. “Also, don’ be absurd, man; kickin’ you out was never an option.”
Dream looked at Techno, at Phil, and then back at Techno. His voice was quiet when he said, “Two. It’s… it’s not bad. For me. Because it’s —“ He looked back at Phil, that desperation back again. “It’s better than it was, for me, because it used to be so much worse, but for you it’s not — is it awful? Am I making it awful? There’s so much I already owe you, I can’t —“
“This is a two out of ten for you?” Phil clarified. “Right now?”
Dream made a tense, frustrated sound, pressing his palms against his temples, heedless of the blood. “Quackity shattered all of my ribs once and that was a six, it’s not — I don’t know! I —“ He looked at Phil, lowering his hands. His eyes were dry, but there was a kind of deep, agonized fear there, drowning him. Phil didn’t know why this was making him so afraid. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Phil said firmly.
“I’m the admin, it has to be my fault. I don’t — I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.” He looked up at Techno. “I swear I didn’t. I didn’t.”
“I know, man, I know,” Techno assured him. “Heck, if you could be doin’ this on purpose you would’ve been doin’ it to Sam or someone in Pandora.” He shifted positions slightly, glancing over at Phil before looking back at Dream. “What d’you need to fix it? Do you know if you even can?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I haven’t even tried to access any admin tabs since — since sometime in Pandora. Just nothing feels right when I do. I don’t know why.” He slammed his fist against the bed, and Phil didn’t quite succeed in burying a flinch. Dream immediately looked over at him. “I hurt you,” Dream said. He looked down at his hand, then back at Phil. “I just… I hurt you.” His breathing was getting more strained. “I didn’t mean to. I — I’m sorry, I don’t —“
“Not your fault, mate,” Phil repeated. Dream didn’t seem to hear him. “It’ll be alright, Dream.”
“We’ll figure somethin’ out,” Techno assured him. “Try and calm down, alrigh’? You’re not breathin’ much, man.”
Phil’s chest felt tight, and it took him several more seconds of Dream hyperventilating to realize that the pain was not, in fact, his own. “Getting a bit hard to breathe here, mate,” Phil said in a low, strained voice, setting his hand on Dream’s knee. Dream’s eyes darted up to him. It didn’t get any easier to breathe. “Dream. Please try and calm down.”
Dream squeezed his eyes shut, his breath hitching. “Can I —“ He broke off, sucking in another breath. “I need a minute. Just — I just need a minute.”
Phil glanced worriedly at Techno. “Dream, we really do need to figure this out,” Phil tried. His chest was still hurting. “If —“
“Please, Phil, I —“ Dream’s voice cracked. He pressed his palms over his eyes. There was another twinge of pain in Phil’s hand. “I just need a minute. Please.”
Techno and Phil exchanged another look. “We’ll be back in a bit,” Phil promised, pushing himself up from the bed with some difficulty. “D’you want me to take care of that hand of yours?”
Dream shook his head without looking at them.
“We’ll get to it later,” Phil assured him. He gently squeezed Dream’s shoulder. “We’ll work this out, mate. It’ll be alright.”
Dream didn’t respond. Phil and Techno left the room, easing the door shut behind them. It was still painful to breathe.
***
It felt like too much.
Everything felt like too much.
Dream was hyperaware of everything, of every pain, previously so insignificant and now suddenly forced to the forefront of his mind. It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t, it couldn’t be. Not in comparison to everything else that he’d been through. Because if this pain, this baseline of discomfort, was bad, then he still wasn’t healing and he wasn’t getting better and he couldn’t deal with that.
Dream pressed his palms over his eyes, squeezing his eyes shut. It hurt, but not badly, and he would have completely disregarded it if not for the fact that now Philza was feeling this too.
He lowered his hands, staring down at the barely-healing cut there, at the blood painting his hands red. It didn’t feel like his. His body hadn’t felt like his own in so long. He hadn’t been able to control anything that happened to it in Pandora, and it had never felt like his own; always the Warden’s prisoner or Quackity’s plaything. Not his.
It had finally started to feel like his again. Like he wasn’t a stranger in his own body. Like he had some measure of control over it. And now all of that was just gone.
He wanted to scream. Why couldn’t he even have this? He still couldn’t have a right to his own body, his own pain, because now Phil was sharing it, and Dream hated it. He was so deeply in debt to Phil and Techno that it was almost absurd. He absolutely could not afford to upset either of them. He couldn’t afford to be on their bad side. But how could he avoid it now, when his very existence was causing Phil pain?
He didn’t think Phil or Techno would physically hurt him, not with his own pain linked to Phil’s, but what else would they do if he upset them? There were ways of hurting someone without physically causing them pain. He knew that well enough from the Warden, who seemed to dislike physically harming him, but certainly had no problem punishing him in more creative ways.
Dream looked over towards the door, to where Phil and Techno were surely still conversing. He couldn’t hear them, but he couldn’t hear much of anything over the buzzing in his ears. They had said they would fix this. But how could they? This was a problem with the server, maybe some kind of glitch creating a soul link, and if it was, it was a problem that only the admin could fix. That only Dream could fix.
He hadn’t been able to access any admin abilities since Pandora. Whether it was something with the egg, a mental block, or just a result of his bone-deep exhaustion, he had no idea. But this wasn’t something Phil or Techno could fix. Dream would have to fix this.
Dream raised his trembling hands in front of him, letting out a slow breath. He needed to fix this. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t make Phil keep going through this either. Here he was, sitting and… moping about, what, not having control over his body again? When he was basically torturing Phil with this. Phil was the one who was really suffering with this server glitch, or whatever it was, and Dream was just being selfish about it.
He would fix this.
He really wasn’t sure what would happen if he attempted to access his admin tabs, not when he hadn’t dared try it in so long. Some part of him thought it was probably a bad idea to even try. He knew he shouldn’t be trying to use that level of power when he was so exhausted all the time. But as long as he was able to sever this soul link without harming Phil, the side effects didn’t really matter. He could deal with more pain if need be. Phil could not. Or, rather — Dream couldn’t deal with it if he put Phil in more pain in some broken attempt to fix things. Phil would probably insist it was fine.
It wasn’t fine.
Dream reached out and tried to open his admin tabs.
Something broke.
***
Techno sighed, looking over at the closed door to Dream’s room. It had been a minute or two since they had left him in there, and he felt no closer to a solution. “We could try givin’ you a potion or two, see if it helps,” he offered to Phil. “But that’s just temporary at best.”
“We can’t risk the effects carrying over and sending him into a potion overdose,” Phil said, shaking his head. “We don’t know how deep the soul link goes.” He was leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. “We don’t need temporary solutions. Dream’s been dealing with this pain and worse for months now, so clearly I can deal with it until we figure out how to sever the link altogether.”
“But if Dream doesn’ even know how it happened….” Techno trailed off. He resisted the urge to start pacing. “Maybe he could at least switch it over to me? I dunno.”
“And what exactly would that solve?”
“Well. You wouldn’ be hurtin’ anymore,” Techno said. “So. It’d be able to help at least one of you.” His tail flicked behind him in his agitation. He didn’t like this. He really, really didn’t like this. He had barely been able to help with Dream being in pain, and now that Phil was in pain too, he felt utterly helpless. This wasn’t a problem he knew how to fix.
Phil patted Techno’s arm. “I appreciate the offer, mate, but it’s not necessary. There’s no point messing with the soul link unless it’s to sever it.” He looked over towards the door to Dream’s room again, his brow furrowed. “I get why you’re upset,” he said slowly, “but I can’t imagine why it’s shaken Dream so badly. I don’t get hurt terribly often, so it’s not like it’s going to cause any more pain for him.”
Techno followed his gaze. There was still no sound from Dream’s room. “I mean. He cares about you,” Techno said slowly. “You’ve been helpin’ him with injuries a lot; maybe that’s part of how the soul link happened, I dunno. He obviously doesn’ want you in pain.”
“But he’s really shaken up by it,” Phil argued. He tensed, pain briefly crossing his face, flicking his wings back in mild irritation. He shook his head. “He’s not worried I’m upset with him, is he? It’s not his fault. And he’s got to know by now that we’re not going to kick him out — but then why did he bring it up?” His frown deepened. “I don’t like it.”
“You’re the one in an abruptly elevated amount of pain, and you’re more worried about Dream?” Techno asked, only half joking. Nothing about the situation was funny.
Phil pushed himself away from the wall, refolding his wings behind him. “I care about the lad, Techno, you know that. And I know I can deal with a bit more pain, but I don’t know if Dream can deal with whatever’s got him so upset.”
“Could ask ‘em, I guess, but he doesn’ really answer personal questions,” Techno said. He frowned at the door, and then at Phil. “How come you’re still able to — walk, and everythin’? Not complainin’,” he said hurriedly. “I’m glad you can still walk and it doesn’ hurt ya. But if you have shared pain now, then how come…?” He trailed off. “I dunno much about soul links, I guess.” He’d purposefully avoided servers that had any sort of shared lives, damage, effects, any of it. He couldn’t stand the idea of his survival hinging on someone else. Unless maybe it was Phil.
“They vary,” Phil said, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “It’s been a while since I was on a server that had them. I’ll have to see if I have any books on it; maybe it’ll help us figure this out. But as near as I can figure, we have shared pain, but that’s… just the pain. Not the source of it, just some side effects.” He spread his wings slightly. “Dream’s leg is broken, so if he tried to walk on it, it’d cause pain for both of us. But my leg isn’t broken, so me walking is fine. As near as I can tell, anyw—“ He broke off, eyes widening, the color draining from his face.
“Phil?” Techno said, stepping forward. “Are you —?”
Phil crumpled to the floor with an awful choking sound, and Techno leaped forward, dropping down next to Phil. “What’s wrong?” he asked urgently. “Are you — oh, Prime.” Phil was weeping scarlet tears, blood sliding down his face.
“Phil?” Techno repeated, horrified. “You — what — Phil?” What was happening. What was happening, and why was Phil bleeding?
The avian opened his mouth to — say something or cough or something — but just ended up choking on blood, scarlet dripping out of his mouth.
“What do I do?” Techno demanded. “Phil, what do I do?” He had no idea how to deal with this, no idea what was happening, why Phil was —
“Dream,” Phil managed to choke out. He pressed a hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. With his other hand, he gestured weakly towards Dream’s door.
Techno leapt to his feet, chat screaming in his head. He briefly squeezed Phil’s shoulder before bounding across the room to Dream’s door, throwing it open and moving inside. This had to be something from Dream, from the soul link. Therefore, the only way to help Phil here was to help Dream.
Dream was still on his bed, his hands pressed over his mouth and face, and he was covered in blood. His eyes flew open when the door opened, and they were horribly bloodshot. He too was crying scarlet tears. “Techno,” he choked. “I — I didn’t — I’m sorry.”
“What happened?” Techno demanded, grabbing Dream’s shoulder. “Dream, what happened?”
“I —“ Dream sucked in a breath, and then coughed violently, splattering the white sheets with red. He looked up at Techno. Another drop of blood slid down his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“What happened?” Techno repeated.
“I tried to fix it,” Dream choked out. “I tried. I couldn’t even — I couldn’t even access my admin tabs; when I tried it all just went black and then everything — something snapped, I don’t know, I don’t know —“ His eyes widened. “Phil. Techno, what did I do to Phil?”
“He —“ Techno tossed a worried glance towards the door. “Same thing that happened to you. Lotta blood. How do we fix this? Regen, healing, gapple?”
“Regen,” Dream said. “Maybe. I —“ His voice cracked. “I don’t know. This hasn’t ever happened before, I don’t know.”
Releasing Dream’s shoulder, Techno dug through the basket of medical supplies, yanking out a bottle of regeneration potion. “This isn’t gonna kill you or anythin,’ is it?” he asked worriedly, tilting the bottle in the light. “I know Phil talked about overdose —“
Dream grabbed the bottle from Techno and downed it in one.
“Wh — Dream!” Techno said, startled. “Gotta pace yourself, man. Don’ wanna put you in an early grave here —“
“It’s fine,” Dream gritted out. “We don’t even know if —“ He sucked in a breath, wrapping his arms tightly around his stomach. The empty potion bottle fell to the floor, rolling across the hardwood. “We don’t know if me drinking potions will even affect Phil, so — so if I overdose it might not even do anything to him —“
“But it’ll affect you,” Techno said, his voice rising. “Geez, man. I get worryin’ about Phil — heck, I’m worried about him — but are you not worried about you at all?”
Dream looked up at Techno. “I don’t get to be worried about me,” he said. There was a deep, awful bitterness there, buried under so much pain and fear. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters,” Techno said indignantly. “What d’you mean, you don’t get to be worried?”
Dream looked away from Techno. The color was still gone from his face, and he was still shaking, but at least he didn’t seem to be actively bleeding anymore. At least the regen potion had done something, even if they didn’t know what the side effects would be. “I hate this,” Dream finally said, his voice low. His arms were wrapped tightly around himself. “Techno, I hate this.”
“It’s not… ideal, yeah,” Techno said awkwardly. “But —“
“No, Techno, I hate it.” Dream’s fingers dug into his arms, a frequent habit Techno recognized as him trying to ground himself. A second later, though, Dream released himself with a sound of frustration. “I can’t do that,” he said. “I can’t do that, because it’s going to hurt Phil.” He looked at Techno with something like helplessness. “Not even Sam stopped me from doing that.”
“What d’you…. Oh.” Techno stopped, realization dawning. He didn’t know what to say, how to comfort Dream, how to fix this.
Dream dropped his gaze again, staring down at his shaking, bloody hands. “It doesn’t feel like mine,” he whispered. He pressed a hand against his chest. “I don’t feel like mine. It felt like that in Pandora, too.” He briefly squeezed his eyes shut, then looked back up at Techno. “And I can’t fix it.” A beat later, he added, more quickly, almost desperately, “But I’ll try. I swear I’ll try, I’ll fix it, I’ll — I won’t hurt Phil again, I swear I didn’t mean to —“
“Dream.” Techno put his hand on Dream’s shoulder, and he flinched, immediately falling silent. “Hey. It’ll be fine, man. I know you didn’ do it on purpose. It’ll be fine. We’ll figure it out, and everything will be fiiine. What can I —“
“It doesn’t matter,” Dream muttered, all of his previous energy draining. He had a tendency to do that more when he was upset — flip between emotional highs and lows, unable to settle on any of them. He wasn’t looking at him, his bloodied hands gripping his arms without digging into them. “I can’t access any of my admin codes. I might be — tired, or something, I don’t know.” He heaved a sigh, slumping under Techno’s hand. “I didn’t mean to. I swear I didn’t mean to.”
“C’mon man, I know that,” Techno said. “I’m not upset with ya, don’ worry.”
Dream looked up at him so quickly it was almost disconcerting. “Why not?” he demanded. He was shaking, covered in blood, and had been crying blood only two minutes earlier in a broken attempt to fix a problem that was really only affecting Phil. Why the heck would Techno be upset with him?
“It’s… not your fault?” Techno offered. “Is that what’s got ya so worked up?” He moved a step closer to the bed, tightening his grip on Dream’s shoulder. “Dream. Neither of us are mad at you. No one’s gonna do anythin’ to you. We’ll work this out, and everythin’ will be fine.”
“But —“ Dream broke off, staring down at the blankets, before looking back up at Techno. “But I owe you.”
“Eh, maybe a bit,” Techno said, shrugging. “But it’s whatever.” Dream was staring at him, disbelief etched all over his face. Did he still think, after all this time, that this was still just about that favor? “Mostly we’re just best friends.” He drew out the words, waiting for the reaction.
Dream just looked at him for a long moment. He shook his head, dropping his gaze to stare down at his shaking hands. “You should — you should go help Phil. Tell him I’ll try not to — hurt him anymore.”
“Dream —“
“Please just go help Phil.”
Techno hesitated. He really didn’t want to leave Dream alone when he was so obviously distressed like this, but he also really, really did need to go make sure Phil was okay. “I’ll be back in a minute,” Techno assured him, briefly squeezing Dream’s shoulder before moving towards the door.
Dream didn’t respond as Techno left the room, still staring down at his hands. Techno paused in the doorway, his grip tightening on the frame. He didn’t know what was happening here, not really. This was old magic, deep admin code, and if even Dream didn’t know how it had happened… how was Techno supposed to help? He would, though. He would figure it out, and he would fix it.
He had to.