Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rain struck the windows of La Botaniste. The once bright city was soaked in the dull colors of the night, its people covered in the wetness of the weather. It was two in the morning and the world belonged to dreamers. 

In the corner of the bar sat Dream, his drink untouched. Reclining in the seat, his hair caught in the light, an amber shade that warped around him like a halo. Across from him sat George, lounged out across the seat, his collar unbuttoned, laughter in his words. Beside him was Sapnap, halfway through his third glass of whiskey, thumb tapping along to the soft jazz music the barkeep had put on. 

The three had been in Paris for weeks – long enough to know the city and the ghosts that walked in the night. They had been touring Europe for months, chasing an adrenaline rush, a sense of purpose. They had searched: street races in Pau, an art auction in Brussels, poker in exclusive clubs. 

And yet, they wanted more. 

“Admit it,” George started, his eyes thick with amusement, hair standing up on edge, “We’ve peaked. There’s nothing else to do. Well, nothing that won’t end up with us in a cell.” 

Dream’s gaze lifted from his drink to George’s figure, “That’s not true.” 

Sapnap chuckled, taking a sip of his whiskey, “Come on, Dream. By this point, we’ve pissed off half of Interpol, racing through tunnels that legally don’t even exist. What can we do now? Steal the moon or something?” 

Dream froze at first, fingers circling the ring of his glass. 

Then, almost instinctively he replied, “We don’t need to take the moon to leave an impact on Paris. We could…we could take the Crown Jewels.” 

George snorted after a moment but paused as he noticed the serious look on Dream’s face, “You’re kidding…right?” 

Dream turned away, refusing to look at his friend for a second, “I’m not.” 

Sapnap groaned, “Dude, everytime we drink in Paris, you get philosophical. First it was the whole ‘what is art if not theft?’ speech and now this?” 

George nodded his head, taking in the way Dream’s eyes gleamed in the light. 

Leaning forward, the blonde began to speak, his face covered in the shadow of the lighting, “Think about it. The French Crown Jewels. They’ve been locked up for a century. Hell, half of the guards don’t even remember that they’re real. They think they’re just a symbol of power. If we take them, we rewrite history.” 

George frowned, “Are you seriously trying to convince us to take the Empress’s collection? The crown, the emeralds?” 

“Eugènie’s Crown,” Dream interrupted, “It’s got seven hundred and fifty stones in it, each one cataloged and insured. It’s worth millions not to mention Marie-Louise’s emeralds or the sapphire set from Queen Marie-Amelie. Hell, even the reliquary broch is worth taking.” 

George shared a look with Sapnap who chuckled, setting his glass onto the table, “You actually looked this up?”

Dream’s lips curved into a smile, “Years ago. The exhibit’s routine has been the same for decades.” 

George tilted his head, “And you really think we could steal them?” 

Dream’s gaze sharpened, “No, I think we should.” 

The bar hummed at Dream’s words. The jazz music shifted as applause and laughter took over the place. But, in their corner of the bar, the air tightened in silence. 

Finally, after a second, Sapnap laughed, “You’re drunk, Dream.”

“Barely,” the man replied, “And even if I was – that doesn’t mean I am wrong.” 

With that, Dream drew a pen from his coat pocket, snatching a napkin from a nearby table. He scanned the bar, ensuring there were no cameras before carefully beginning to sketch shapes, impressions of corridors and boxes. He slowly started labeling them: camera line, guard room. 

George watched, amusement leaving his face, “You’re serious.” 

Dream didn’t answer; he just kept drawing. 

“Dream,” George tried again, “You’re serious.” 

The man looked up, “Wouldn’t it be something. We could steal from history itself. Balance things out for once.” 

Sapnap shook his head, half in disbelief, half in admiration for his friend. For a long time, none of them spoke. George glanced around the bar, aware of the shadows, smoke, and rain that echoed throughout the room. He thought about the many times before this, when Dream’s jokes had blurred into serious affairs. 

Finally, he spoke up, “You’d need a team to pull this off.” 

Dream nodded, “We’d need more charm and muscle. We need ghosts, coders, geniuses.” 

“Ghosts?” Sapnap inquired. 

“People who can rewrite everything, make it like we never existed. We can’t just break in, we need to slip through the cracks entirely.” 

Sapnap leaned back after finishing his drink, folding his arms, “And where do we find these ghosts?” 

Dream’s eyes shifted to George.

“London,” he answered simply, “I know you know people there.” 

George hesitated, the weight of what was happening striking him. He knew people, kids who were too clever to fit in with everyone else, who stood out in every room they walked into. 

He thought of Tommy, a student he had worked with as a TA, so relentless and knowledgeable that he argued with professors for fun. Next, he thought of Tubbo, the quiet technological prodigy who preferred wires over words. 

“Maybe,” George said slowly, “But this isn’t just some prank. We need to think more. Before we do anything.” 

Dream nodded, “I know. We’re not just taking a snack from the store, we're taking gold, history.” 

For a moment, the three held their breath. Dream shifted to look at the two, slowly taking money from his wallet to leave on the table, standing up. The napkin stayed where it was, soaked in condensation, pen marks now smeared across it, disguising what he had written. 

Outside, the Eiffel Tower shimmered. George stared at it from his seat, light rippling through the sky like a beacon. 

Sapnap spoke up, staring out the window at the tower before he noticed Dream’s frozen frame in the window, “We’re actually going to do this, aren’t we?” 

Dream’s reflection smiled back at him, “Yeah, we are.” 

Turning away, Dream paused, his head looking to George briefly, “Call your friends in London. The smart ones.” 

With that, Dream walked out of the bar, past the group of people standing near the door, heading into the rain. 

For a long time, George and Sapnap sat in silence. After a moment, George grabbed the napkin covered in boxes and drawings, his fingers tracing the illustration of a crown, hidden by the condensation of their glasses. 

He breathed out, “He’s mad.” 

Sapnap nodded, letting out a puff of air, “Yeah. But when has he ever been wrong?” 

With that the two stood, making their way outside too. In the night, the city of Paris stood, tall and victorious – built on stolen art and forgotten kings. And in the rain, something new shined through, the spark of something dangerous, burning for the first time.

Chapter Text

The environment of London strongly juxtaposed that of Paris. Both were covered in rain but London was drastically darker in the daytime, brick streets lining the city. As George entered a nearby apartment building, he noticed the scent that encompassed the city, wet stone, smoke, and coal. 

Approaching a door, George pulled the hood of his jacket around his face, knocking onto a heavy door, white paint peeling off of it. 

“Tubbo?” he called out softly, voice reflecting off of the walls of the narrow hall. 

A moment passed before a soft click echoed in the building, a door creaking open. Inside, George spotted a room lit up by the glow of several monitors, images of cameras and coding. Near the monitors, holding the door open stood Tubbo, blue light glasses resting on his face, brown hair sticking out at an angle as if he had been frantically running a hand through it for hours. 

“George?” Tubbo questioned, voice cautious and confused, “It’s late. What are you even doing here?” 

“This won’t take long,” George interrupted, moving to step into the apartment, shifting to let Tubbo close the door behind him, “I just got back from Paris. We…we need to talk. I have project for you. One that requires more than a single screen, if you know what I mean.” 

Tubbo stopped, curiosity taking over his face as he sat back at his desk, continuing to type at his keyboard slowly. George smiled faintly at the motion, “You remember Dream, right?” 

Tubbo froze, fingers leaving the keyboard as he slowly moved to look at George, not answering. 

George walked closer, moving to sit in a chair near Tubbo, “We have a new project. A serious one. It’s not a game, not this time. We need your help, especially if we’re going to change history.” 

Tubbo looked at a loop of a security camera playing on one of his monitors, something he had been messing with for fun, “History? What type of project is this, George?” 

George lifted a folder that was cradled in his arms, “Just check it out. I’m not asking you to commit to anything before you read this, just look.” 

With that, Tubbo took the folder, spreading out the contents on his desk. As he did so, he took in the papers: printed notes, diagrams, messy sketches. His eyes got wider the more he read, reading the title of the project, The Coronation. Within that, he saw images of a collection of fine jewels, the French Crown Jewels. Each item, the crown, brooches, emeralds, and sapphires, was meticulously cataloged, security measures notated. 

“The Crown Jewels? George, you have to be kidding?” Tubbo whispered, his pulse quickening. 

George shook his head, remembering his own shock at Dream’s initial plan, “I’m not. We’re not. We’ve thought about this, broken it all down. The Louvre hasn’t updated the security in the Apollo Room in over 10 years. There’s not even cameras there. We just need you to get into the cameras, loop them, and keep notice of what’s going on. It’ll be easy, you’ve done that before. Hell, you’re doing it now.” 

Tubbo leaned back in his chair, one hand lifting to run through his messy hair, aware of the fans running in his computer. He could almost feel the jewels in his hand, the weight of the crown, the shimmer of it’s jewels. The burden of this crime settled in his chest, making him dizzy. 

Part of him was terrified, but another part was thrilled – excited. 

“Okay,” he whispered, nodding as fear and fascination consumed him, “Assuming that you and Dream are serious, how would we do this? How would we plan this?” 

George grinned victoriously, “Easy, we get the right people and we move quick.” 

Soon after getting Tubbo to agree to his plan, George visited Tommy. He knew exactly where the younger boy would be, sitting in a university library, surrounded by stacks of books, architectural designs, and more. Rain hammered down the windows of the library, lightning striking in the surrounding area. 

George approached the boy, his footsteps echoing across the stone floor as he came to stand beside Tommy’s table. For a moment, the blonde kept typing on his laptop, writing about the mechanics of vaulted doors. 

Eventually, at the arrival of the older man, Tommy looked up, taking in the presence of his old TA, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Paris or some shitty city right now?” 

George laughed at the bitterness that surrounded the boy's words, “Work calls. I’ve got a new project coming up. Figured I would check in with my favorite prodigy…thought you might finally be bored of the same old routine, want to try something new.” 

Tommy looked up, raising his eyebrows, wavy hair framing his face, “You’ve got to be kidding. I don’t…I don’t do whatever it is you do. No, no, George. I’m not getting involved in that shit.” 

George lowered his voice, sitting down in a chair beside the younger, “Come on, Tommy. We both know you’re too good for this school. You always have been. For the past few years, you've been buried in classes about stuff you already know. You need something more, something that will actually challenge you. What better than becoming a part of history? Planning the greatest heist of the century?”

Tommy blinked, laughing out of habit at the absurdity of the situation, “You’re kidding. That’s impossible. We can’t just break in somewhere and steal whatever it is you want.” 

George smirked, “The French Crown Jewels. We’re gonna break into the Louvre and take the Crown Jewels.” 

Tommy leaned his head onto the table, keeping his face in the direction of George, “Stop it. We can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” George challenged, “That’s what we want to know. Dream, Sapnap, and I. Why not? What’s stopping us? One guard? A decade old security system?” 

Something about George’s words made Tommy stop, assessing the certainty and the weight of the situation. Without meaning to, he found himself nodding, thinking of the different diagrams and security systems he had analyzed in the past. In theory, it would be easy. 

Seeming to understand Tommy’s thoughts, George lifted the same folder from before, handing it to the boy who felt himself be overcome with fascination at the thought that had gone into this. He didn’t want to admit it, to being open to this idea, but already his mind was ticking – calculating the timing of this event, the way they could enter the building undetected, how long they would have to leave after breaking the glass case. 

“Fine,” he muttered, “But I wanna know more. I wanna meet the guy who started this cause I know it’s not your colorblind ass.” 

George laughed, smirking as he realized he had successfully completed his mission. Maybe this heist wouldn’t be as hard as he once thought. 

The next evening, George met Tommy and Tubbo again. He brought the two to a warehouse by the Thames, a metallic clicking reflecting throughout the building, covering any possibility of them being overheard. When the trio got there, they met the mastermind behind the crime. 

Dream stood, hands tucked into his jeans, a long jacket covering his body, rain soaking through his hair. His eyes took in the two strangers George had brought him, one short and apprehensive, the other tall and oozing of false confidence. 

“Evening guys,” he started, smirking, American accent catching the group off guard, “You ready for a heist?” 

Tubbo swallowed, “I…I’m not sure–” 

Dream cut of the boy, “Come on, if we are gonna do this, we need you. You see things others don’t. Patterns, movements, probabilities. We need that.” 

Tubbo nodded slowly, settling into the idea as the man spoke. 

“And you,” Dream continued, turning to Tommy, “George has told me all about you. You understand structures – systems, routines, habits. Hell, you can predict the steps someone is going to take before they even know it. You are destined for more than some stupid architecture job.”

Dream’s gaze sharpened, addressing both of the boys again, “You both are destined for more than what you are doing right now. So, what do you say? We can change history.” 

Slowly the two boys, once strangers now accomplices, turned to look at each other, looking past George who stood behind them. The two slowly exchanged a nod, before turning to Dream. 

“Fine,” Tommy agreed, “We’ll help.” 

Tommy’s declaration hung in the air, the hum of metal fans marking the moment in the background. A gentle drip echoing from the roof above them, rain streaking down the building. 

Tubbo could feel the emotion in the room, they all could. Thrill, fear, potential surrounded them all. A grin took over Dream’s face as he turned to look at George who moved over to stand beside his friend, leaning into his side, knowing the gravity of the situation had just set in. 

Dream’s eyes gleamed as he looked at his team, merely missing Sapnap who had stayed in Paris to find them a place to stay during their heist. 

“We’ll be careful,” Dream said, “We won’t make mistakes. This isn’t about the jewels or money. Hell, it’s not about fame. This is all about control, proving that we can do it.” 

The other three nodded along, all moving towards the door, preparing to leave. 

Before leaving, Dream spoke again, "Tomorrow, we begin. We’ll head to Paris, meet the last member of our team there and begin everything. I’ll send you your boarding information later.” 

With that, he stepped out of the building into the rain, letting the heavy metal door clang shut behind him. As he left, George leaned into the wall beside him, looking at the two British boys beside him, “Welcome to the team.” 

From there, he too stepped outside, walking away with Dream who had lingered at the side of the building. The two smirked at each other, knowing that things were coming together. 

The game had begun.

Chapter Text

A mere thirty six hours later, their plane touched down, slicing through the clouds of the sky, resting on the hard, runway of Paris. The city was alive with potential, half-hidden in fog, alive with lights which shimmered across the Seine. 

From his seat by the window, Dream could see the hum of the city, his heartbeat beating against his temples; George slept beside him, head resting on his shoulder. Near them, Tommy and Tubbo sat, whispering quietly, getting to know each other, lost in the rhythm of their new life. 

By the time the four exited the airport, carrying luggage heavy with equipment, subtle enough to pass through security without raising suspicion, they were exhausted. The four had met Sapnap who escorted them to their base, a loft he had managed to rent near the Louvre. The building was built of brick and steel, humming with electricity. 

Their loft smelled of coffee, expanded to include a bed for each member of their team. Dream entered the apartment after Sapnap, immediately sinking into a chair in the living room, watching everyone else settle in near him. 

“This is it,” he whispered, voice low but loud enough for the group to hear, now unpacking their supplies including monitors and computers.

“We start with observation,” he began planning, “We need to learn the routine of things. Take note of who goes where and when. Then, we look at blind spots, plan for the inevitable, determine how to make ourselves invisible.”

Tommy sat on the floor, long legs tucked under his body, a blueprint of the Louvre spread in front of him, outlining the Apollo Room and cameras that rested outside of it, “So, what? We just watch the guards and stuff? Shift changes, patrol routes? Look for cameras?” 

Dream nodded as Sapnap and George came to sit beside him on a nearby couch, looking at the papers sitting near it, “Exactly. But, we also need to look at the small moments, when people are more human than anything else. We pay attention to when people linger too long in one area, when the guards take too much notice of things.” 

Tubbo, who had finally finished setting up his computer system, complete with three monitors which could monitor CCTV cameras of the Parisian streets along with private displays, external feeds he had tapped into, looked up. 

“The street cams are more complex than we thought,” he started, “There’s AI monitoring, facial recognition, hell they even have motion prediction. If I loop the feed, I have to account for anomaly detection.” 

George hummed, moving to lean on the desk beside the boy, “What if we don’t scare the system? We don’t cut it completely, just measure our movements. We can detect any jumps in it, plan our attack for a time when the system notoriously glitches, say the morning. People will be everywhere, tourists and citizens both. There’s no way it can account for every movement then. If we find a way to hack in while it’s already overwhelmed we could still loop it, distracting it for a second, enough that no one will notice any changes.” 

Tubbo nodded, his face covered in frustration and admiration at the concept, “We’re orchestrating people? So what, I just record a time loop from now or tomorrow or wherever and then when the system is overloaded, resetting for the day, I loop it? You really think they won’t notice?” 

Sapnap nodded, speaking for the first time since the group had arrived at the lift, “Yeah, George is right. We don’t need to break the system to do this, just distract it.” 

Tubbo nodded as Dream began speaking, “We need to exploit it, take advantage of everything we know and more. This isn’t about force, we can’t just break in, guns blazing. Instead, we finesse the system, take advantage of the old system. We could break in from outside, act like a maintenance team, break a window to enter the room. Once we did that, we could go straight to the jewels. After breaking the glass barrier, we’d have two minutes to grab everything and leave. If we place someone outside to keep watch and have someone else to distract the guards, we’d be golden.” 

Tommy hummed, “So, we do this in broad daylight? You don’t think anyone else will notice?” 

George laughed, “They won’t know any better. If we’re posing as maintenance workers and have enough of a distraction inside, the tourists won’t notice anything. They’ll just assume it’s some kind of exclusive showing.” 

Sapnap smirked, turning to Tubbo as he spoke, “We’re a wildcard. George’s a pretty good distractor. He could go in, distract a guard’s routine enough that Dream, Tommy, and I could get in the room and grab anything. Tubbo could wait outside in a van or something, monitoring what cameras the Louvre does have.”

Dream nodded, clapping once, “Beautiful. Now, let’s see if we can work this out. Some of us know each other already. Others don’t. We need to fix that. If we’re going to be a team, we need to be able to keep up with each other.”

With that, Tommy and Tubbo exchanged a glance. It was immediate, instinctive, almost brotherly. Within minutes of talking, the two were arguing playfully, discussing camera angles, code, timing, and more. 

Sapnap rolled his eyes at their behavior, wrapping his arm around George’s shoulder as he sat beside him on the couch again, “Predictable. They’re bickering like brothers already.” 

George smirked, “Better now than during the heist, I guess.” 

Dream laughed, overhearing the conversation as he walked to the desk Tubbo had left, moving to finally rest beside Tommy on the floor. The older looked at the camera system outside of the Louvre, taking in the large pyramid shape of the building. From there, he clicked a button, shifting the camera over to look at an internal camera, noting the way one guard began moving. 

He slowed the footage down, zooming in on the individuals, noticing his habitual glance one corner of the room then the next, hesitation in his glance. 

“Wait, look,” he spoke up, catching the attention of the group again which fell silent at his words, “He’s totally ignoring the door to the Apollo Gallery Room. He only is looking at the farthest corners. That’s his soft spot. Every place has one. Every palace, every museum. There is always a point of entry. That window, look. That’s the one we should use to get in. It’s out of sight, it's in the room, hidden from the cameras and the guard never even looked at it.” 

Tubbo stood, standing beside Dream, tilting the keyboard so he could begin typing, overlaying paths of movement finding the way it worked within the AI detection system. 

“We could loop it here,” he suggested, looking at the internal camera again, “If George could slow him down, that would buy you guys some time. Then, I could use the empty room to keep a continuous loop. I could change their whole system, backdate it.” 

Tommy leaned into the shorter boy’s side, his eyes following what was being typed, mind racing in thought, “We need a contingency plan. We need to plan some way to overlap coverage. If something fails, the whole thing could go down. George is gonna need back-up plans – ways he can distract the guard. And we need plan some way to get out quick if things fail.” 

Sapnap nodded from the couch, “We could make things repeat on the cams. Make it seem like it's a slow day at the museum and if we break in as soon as they open, it will be. It’ll all look normal.” 

Dream grinned, nodding along, “And if we do the maintenance thing, we could have a ladder attached to the window, have it sitting there for us to use to get in and out quickly.” 

“But wait,” George interrupted, “How are you gonna get in? Break the window? Throw a rock or something?” 

“Power tools,” Tubbo suggested, looking between his new teammates, “It would make sense to have them if you were a maintenance team. And what if instead of a normal ladder we use a work truck? Something with a mechanical ladder attached to it? I could stay in there instead of a van or something, be ready to drive out if necessary and have my equipment set up in the back.” 

The group looked at each other, nodding, seeing that their plan was coming together. 

“Where can we get the truck, though?” Dream questioned, “We can’t just rent one or something, we need something that won’t be traced back to us.” 

Sapnap cleared his throat, his hand shifting to move across the back of his neck, “Dream, you remember Karl and Quackity? From the street races? They have connections to stuff like that – through their work garage. They fix cars and trucks and shit all the time. Karl still owes me a favor, a pretty big one. I bet I could get us something to use, something that couldn’t be traced.” 

Dream nodded, “Do it. Contact him. We’ve got a heist to practice you guys.” 

After that, the group fell into silence again, Tubbo and Tommy heading off to sleep for the night, jetlag hitting them. 

Sapnap glanced towards the room the two boys had retreated to for the night, turning to face his long-term friends, “Are you sure we can trust these two?” 

Dream nodded after looking to George for approval, “By the end of this, we’ll be a family. Dysfunctional and chaotic but family nonetheless. That means we have to trust them. They’re in just as deep as we are now.” 

Dream’s prediction came true as the team soon fell into a rhythm. Tubbo practiced the loop he would need to make on the cameras simultaneously, CCTV and the Louvre cameras both. Tommy would scrutinize the decisions of the Louvre architects, posing what-if questions and challenging assumptions to the team. 

At the same time, Sapnap worked the group through physical routes they may have to utilize, getting them to simulate the movement they would be following. George focused on the social aspect of their heist, the way they should behave towards tourists, smile towards the bystanders while hiding the top half of their faces, moving before a person could recognize them. 

Through everything, Dream rotated between the group, providing observations and predictions on potential errors in their plan, identifying a safehouse the group could use after their heist, protecting their loft and hiding its location from authorities. 

Over the course of a few days, the group set up their second location, their warehouse lit up by monitors and streetlamps that stood outside. The whole place reeked of wet stone and coffee, the one thing keeping them all going through the long days and nights. 

While they each knew they needed more sleep, they couldn’t help but to stay up, working together. The lack of sleep and additional dose of caffeine soaring through their bodies served as a blessing to their mission, allowing for extra work time. 

But it also was a detriment, causing cracks in their family-like team. At one point, Tommy and Tubbo had gotten into an argument over whether they could truly trust one guard’s patterns to remain predictable without failure. The two kept raising their voices, a tense atmosphere developing in the loft. Sapnap stood, tired of the two’s arguing, placing a hand onto George’s shoulder who was giggling at the absurdity of the situation. 

“Stop it, all of you,” Sapnap said, “You wanna figure out if the situation is predictable? Then figure it out. Track the behavior over the next few days and calibrate your results based on that. God, it’s not that complicated.” 

With that, the two boys looked at each other, an apology shining in each of their eyes. Silently they moved, taking notes on the behavior in order to begin calibrating it as Sapnap suggested. 

George looked down, slowly turning to mutter an apology to Sapnap who shrugged and sank into the couch, taking out a burner phone, reading a message from Karl who had confirmed he could borrow a truck in the coming week. 

The next morning, the group sat around a table, eating breakfast together. Forks slid across plates, plans solidifying, apologies being swallowed with bites of egg. 

The Coronation was born in that loft – a plan not of theft but of audacity and careful orchestration. The group knew what was to come and they would be ready, forgiving petty arguments in favor for true greatness, for history.

Chapter Text

The five thieves had gotten used to the Paris weather, random bursts of rain interrupted with cloudy and overcast days. The group had been planning for two weeks, tracking routine patterns of the Louvre, following street cams, and rehearsing how they would plan their entrance to the Louvre. When they weren’t planning, they were out enjoying the scenery: bars, full of laughter; markets, consumed with chatter, and rivers, flowing steadily with the hum of the city. 

On one particular day, Tubbo sat, hunched over three monitors, working for hours at a time. The computer hummed with electricity, the hiss of the Seine flowing synching up with the steady tapping of keys. His reflection stood out in the screen – face pale, eyes wide behind a set of blue-light glasses. Things seemed to be going well, the behavior of the guests inside the building matching the norm of previously observed actions. All of the sudden, something shifted and a chill crawled up his spine.

“Tommy,” he muttered, voice tight as he turned to the boy who sat in a chair next to him, fidgeting with a pen, “Come look at this. Now.” 

Tommy turned, tossing the pen on the desk, noticing the terror that rested on his friend's face, “What’s wrong? What is it?” 

Tubbo shifted his one monitor, zooming into the security feed he had been running, tracking it through a custom program.

“I…I missed something before. You know how we said the Louvre was stupid not updating its systems? They…they did. I just missed it. They have an AI layer, facial recognition, movement monitoring. None of this was in the blueprints. I didn’t account for it.” 

Tommy leaned closer to the computer, taking in the new system, “What does that mean? For our plan?” 

Tubbo sighed, fear covering his face as he realized the mistake he had made, “This system is hard. It’s predictive. It anticipates movement. It notices anomalies, gestures, deviations. I can loop the feed when the time comes but being able to do that without anyone noticing is gonna be nearly impossible. The system will alert them the moment I change things.” 

Tommy exhaled, one hand running through his hair, “Okay…that– that changes things.” 

Tubbo opened his mouth to respond but stopped as Dream entered the loft, one hand in his coat pocket, the other fingering an unlit cigarette, “What changes things?” 

Tubbo exhaled, “I missed something. We all did. The security system is utilizing an AI monitoring feature which will notify the staff as soon as I loop things. There’s literally no way I can manage to do this without everyone finding out. We have to look at the plans again, change something.” 

Dream shook his head, moving to stand by the computer, looking down at the two boys, “This changes nothing, do you hear me? We will find a way. I don’t care how you do it. If it's a smart change, a predictive one, hell make it a sacred change. I don’t care. Just do it.” 

Tubbo’s fingers twitched, mind racing, “I guess I could write a worm. A loop that could mask our interference. Set it to begin when the museum opens so it's subtle. But that’ll take time. And if I miscalculate then everything–”

“Stop,” Dream snapped, “We don’t have time to think like that. We’ve waited two weeks for this already. We need to move whenever the opportunity hits. There’s no possibility of delaying this so don’t even think about it. Start the worm because we need this to work.” 

Tommy turned, anger taking over his face, fist smacking the table next to him, “Wait, wait, wait. Dream, we’ve talked about this. What we’re doing is huge and this system changes things. We can’t just expect Tubbo to fix everything in a flash. We need to pause, reassess things.” 

“Reasses? Reassess?” Dream snapped, eyes flickering to Sapnap and George who had slowly entered the room at the commotion, “Are you that stupid? That childish? The Louvre isn’t going to wait for us to reassess. We need to prepare now then we need to move. We’re not delaying things.” 

Tubbo’s hands flew across his keyboard, frantically trying to fix things, “I don’t know if I can do this fast enough. I’m reaching my limit, Dream. I’ve been going for like twelve hours everyday.” 

“Push past your limit,” Dream snapped, “We can’t stop now. You have to know that. You’ve always known that.” 

The room fell silent, thick with tension. Tubbo’s fingers shook as he continued typing. Tommy sat next to him, jaw tight, left leg bouncing as frustration flickered throughout his body. Sapnap stood, arms crossed as he leaned against the door, George beside him silently observing the situation. 

“Do you even hear yourself, Dream?” Tommy asked finally, voice soaked in irritation, “This isn’t some game. If we mess up, we could–”

“Could what?” Dream replied, voice cold, “Could fail? Could be arrested? You guys have known that concern since the start. It’s not my fault you didn’t give a shit until now.” 

Sapnap sighed from the doorway, voice echoing through the room, “That’s enough. From all of you. Tommy, stop arguing and Dream knock it off with the whole boss thing. Let Tubbo work. We’ll see what he can do then we go from there, got it?” 

Dream’s jaw clenched in frustration but finally he nodded, turning away from the group as Tommy too nodded, leaning back in his seat. Silence took over the room as Tubbo continued righting, observing the loop he had saved previously, analyzing its feedback, and tracking the security alerts that were being sent out. His muscles trembled as he whispered to the group, “I can make the loop. Hide the interference but it’s gonna be unstable. I’m gonna have to watch it. A lot closer than we thought before.” 

Dream turned back to the computer observing the system Tubbo had started to create, “We can work with that. We just need seven minutes to get in and out. Make it stable enough to handle seven minutes and we’ll be fine.” 

Tubbo swallowed hard, nodding, his pale face looking back at him from the monitor. Tommy looked to the boy that had quickly grown to be his best friend whispering to Dream, “This isn’t right. We can’t force this.” 

“You need to trust me,” Dream interrupted, “Trust the team. The process. We can do this.” 

The group paused, taking a moment to weigh Dream’s words. Moments turned into hours, code compiling, loops being tested, pathways being simulated. During this time, the five stayed in the same room. Tubbo frantically typing as Tommy let out sharp breaths beside him. Sapnap stood, pacing the doorway, stopping occasionally to look at the screen. George sat on the couch, hands twisted with the weight of doubt pressing onto him – doubt for their mission and for Dream. While the four seemed anxious, Dream was cocky, oscillating between uninterested observation and fierce instruction. 

At one point, Tubbo’s hands had frozen on the keyboard, the worm he had written flickering in red, a possible breach being detected. He pressed a key, breathing being halted. 

Dream leaned down, more empathetic to the boy than he had hours before, “You can’t panic. I know I can’t rush this but we need you. We need this to work. So stop freaking out. Find a way to adapt.” 

Tubbo nodded, feeling slightly better after hearing the blonde’s words, typing yet again. 

In the midst of everything, Tommy stood, stretching his back whispering, “We’re going to burn out before we even touch the Louvre at this rate.” 

Dream glanced up, hearing the quiet mutter, “We won’t. We’ve got each other and after this we’re gonna talk, fix things.” 

The group nodded at his words just as Tubbo sighed in relief, head laying down onto the desk, triumph in his eyes, “It’s done. The worm is stable. I can trick the camera, loop it enough for us to get in and out but we have to be quick.” 

Tommy rubbed his face, exhaustion and panic still sharp, “Good job, Tubbs.” 

George nodded in agreement before speaking for the first time since the whole situation had begun, “I don’t like this. How close everything was to falling apart. We can’t just give up and say screw it.” 

Dream’s gaze softened as he sat on the couch, leaning into the brunette’s side, “I’m sorry. For earlier. I didn’t mean to be as harsh as I was to everyone but I’ve come to care a little too much about this heist than I wanted to admit. I need this to work or else it’s gonna be my fault that we all get caught.” 

Sapnap sighed, muscles finally relaxing, “It would not be your fault, Dream. We all planned this. We’ve known the risks. And it’s okay for us to be scared about things going wrong. Hell, that’s what keeps us alive. But we can’t let that fear consume us.” 

Tommy nodded, feeling comforted after his blowup earlier, “I’m sorry too. For doubting you – for doubting us. I knew what I was getting into but I guess I just forgot how real it was, how screwed we’d be if we fail.” 

Dream looked to the younger boy, head now officially resting on George’s shoulder, replying softly, “Then we won’t fail. We’ll be careful. I won’t let you guys get caught, I promise.” 

The group nodded, feeling closer than before after overcoming this challenge. What had started as a tipsy joke had become so much more – a chance at changing history – and they would not fail. The jewels would be theirs eventually. They wouldn’t let anything stop them – not any camera or guard – the Coronation would occur and the Louvre would be none the wiser.

Chapter Text

Fog rolled across the Seine, lapping across buildings and bridges. It was early in the morning and the air was thick with tension that was separate from the weather. Near the Louvre, in a secondary location – a warehouse in Quai de la Tournelle that Sapnap had found – the team met.

The space smelled of rust but had taken on a more homey environment after first being founded weeks ago. Now, there was a set of chairs sitting around a table, coffee mugs resting on top of it, forgotten. Across the room was a few mattresses, set up in case the group had to hide out after the heist. Near the mattresses, Tubbo sat at a desk ensuring his monitor and computer system had been set up properly – cameras on screen one and two, coding on screen three. His fingers traced across the keyboard, checking that the worm was ready to run across the few cameras in the Louvre. 

“Okay, are we clear on what we are doing today?” Dream asked, voice cutting through the electronic hum that echoed throughout the room, “We need to make sure that this plan is going to work without bringing attention to ourselves. Let’s review. Who goes first?” 

“Me,” Tubbo replied, turning away from the computer, “You guys will leave after I do, taking scooters to the Louvre. By the time you get ready to leave, I’ll already be outside in the truck we got from Karl with this set-up going. At nine when the CCTV cameras reset for the day, I’ll start looping them, blocking any interference thanks to the reset.” 

Dream nodded, “Then?” 

George adjusted his scarf, “Then, I prepare to enter. I pose as a guest and distract everyone – the guards, tourists, anyone who gets too close to the Apollo Gallery.” 

Sapnap stood from the table, walking over to stand by Dream, “We let Tubbo run the worm before you go in, covering the footage for the day with that from last week. After that, we prepare to enter.” 

“We’ll find Karl’s truck there already,” Tommy began, reciting the plan from memory, schematics running through his head, “We ditch the scooters by it, let Tubbo stay inside doing his thing then we use the mechanical ladder to access the Denon Wing, drilling straight into the room with the disc cutter.” 

Dream nodded, feeling the weight of this case settle into his muscles, “If anyone asks, we’re replacing the window. That means we have to cut it out precisely; no room for errors. Make it look professional, purposeful.” 

The group nodded before George spoke up, “I’ll block off the room or make something up if need be, I can pretend the robbery is some sort of exclusive exhibit if people slip past us.” 

Sapnap hummed, “Got it. While you do that, I’ll break the glass around the case. We have two minutes after that to grab everything. We’ll start with the crown then go from there. Grab what we can.” 

Dream spoke up then, smirking as the plan came together, “We get in and out. If we can’t grab something that’s fine. Our main priority is the crown. Now, take one of these.” 

With that, he handed out earpieces for everyone, “We communicate through signals only, nothing obvious. Words are reserved for emergencies, you can’t be too direct. We’ll check in when we have everything before exiting. That will be George’s sign to get out. The second we leave, sliding down the ladder we’ll leave on the scooters. George will take the last one, parked away from us so he’s hidden. Tubbo will then take the truck and move it. We’ll park it at the shipping yard, transport the computer system over to Quackity’s car and move it to the warehouse from there. Karl and Quackity will swing by and pick up their vehicles from there.” 

The group agreed to the plan, preparing for the day. 

“We’re gonna practice this system today. We’re not breaking in to take anything. Instead, Tubbo is gonna stay here and loop everything. At the Louvre, George is gonna explore – pretend he’s a drunk tourist or an art lover – whatever works for the situation. We’ll enter the traditional way, through the front door. We can’t be seen together until we reach the Apollo Gallery Room. Once we’re in that room, we’re free of cameras and can meet up. We just need to figure out how long we can stay in the room without any guards entering. Tubbo, I need you to follow along with the guards – make sure they stay on path. You got the routine memorized?” 

Tubbo nodded, “Got it, big man.” 

Dream laughed at his words, “Guess it’s go time, then? Huh?” 

With that, the rehearsal began, Tubbo manipulating the camera feed as Tommy and Sapnap entered the Louvre, traveling throughout carefully mapped corridors, their actions precise with hours of planning. Lights flickered in the background as they quickly took off in the direction of the Dinen Wing. 

George entered next, quickly finding where the guard was looping the museum. He stepped from the shadows, posing as a tourist, too drunk to be in a museum but not drunk enough to be kicked out. He staggered slightly, gently bumping into a wall, the noise catching the guard’s eye. With that he giggled, head titled downward so his hair covered his eyes, muttering sorry as he lingered in the room. His actions were calculated, drawing the attention of the staff members in the room, slowing down the routine patrol path. 

From the warehouse, Tubbo sat, looping the security cameras as he observed the true cams on a separate monitor, identifying the feedback of the system, the slight delays. His hands worked fast to take notes on what was happening, calculating how long George’s distraction had bought them. 

But then, all of the sudden, a new guard – a volunteer – strayed into the path they had orchestrated, disrupting George’s rehearsed route. The older boys eyes flickered around the room, identifying the new threat to their plan; he didn’t have time to recalculate things. And so, he performed.

He moved so that he tripped lightly over a rug taking up part of the floor, hands flailing, staggering forward. The volunteer guard froze, unsure of what to do. George stood putting on a show of apologies, bowing at the man, giggling, and spinning around the room. 

At the same time, Dream’s voice broke through his earpiece, “George, move. Now. He’s moving towards you.” 

George didn’t respond verbally, letting his body control his reaction, improvising a movement backwards to a different part of the museum. The two guards came together shifting around to look at each other, confusion on their faces before they shrugged and continued to stand still, waiting for George or anyone else to reenter the room. 

During that time, Sapnap and Tommy reached the Apollo Gallery Room. The younger carefully started a timer on a stopwatch he had stashed into his pocket, timing how long they could buy in the room alone. The time began to go up slowly, weighing out the future of their mission. During this, Dream wandered throughout the museum, looking for anything out of the ordinary, things that could poke holes in their plan – finding nothing in his way. 

Tommy and Sapnap stood by the Crown Jewels as they stood in the room, eyes full of wonder. Tommy couldn’t help a quiet laugh that escaped his mouth as he realized their plan had gone seamlessly so far.

Sapnap looked at the younger boy, seeing the grin on his face which aligned with his own, “This is crazy, right? Being here?” 

Tommy nodded, carefully moving to look at the stopwatch in his pocket, “It’s insane, man. In a good way.” 

Across the museum, George slowly wandered into another room, spotting Dream who nodded at him. The two merged paths, moving together, their steps echoing on stone floors and soft carpet. Eventually, they wandered out the building, looping around to the front. At the same time, a guard finally entered the Apollo Gallery causing Tommy to press a button on the stopwatch, hidden from plain view. 

After that, the two exited, noticing that the scooter Dream and George had used was gone already. Exchanging a look, they grinned knowing things had gone to plan. With that, they took off, heading to the warehouse, ready to debrief. 

Mere minutes later, Tommy and Sapnap burst into the warehouse, spotting Tubbo now sitting on a chair by their table taking a few final notes for the day. In the meantime, Dream sat on a couch they had recently brought in, George reclined so that he was laying on the blonde’s lap. Dream carefully ran a hand through the brunette’s hair, the older humming in satisfaction and exhaustion.

“That was amazing. Mad, but amazing,” he muttered, turning so his head rested on Dream’s stomach. 

Sapnap dropped into a chair beside them, “We’re close. Tommy and I timed it. We got a full ten minutes in there uninterrupted. That’s longer than we thought.” 

Dream nodded, “This is good but we can’t get lazy. They had an extra guard in there today and he almost caught George if I hadn’t been there to find him first. This is gonna be close.” 

Tommy nodded from where he sat beside Tubbo at the table, munching on a bag of chips, “We’re close to this working. We just gotta communicate. I know we said no words but we might have to, like Dream did earlier. That worked to give George enough time to adapt at the moment.”

George nodded head shifting from Dream’s stomach so he could speak up, “I’d have been screwed if he didn’t relay that information. If you guys can give me notice about that stuff or if I can find a way to get messages to you, we can improve our plan on the fly. Improvise so much that we truly are moving like ghosts, not tourists.” 

Sapnap spoke up from beside Dream and George, apprehension covering his face, “We can improvise if we need to but we got to stick to the plan as much as possible. We’ve calculated every movement for weeks. We’ve accounted for so many different variables. If we let that go…” his words drifted off, chest tightening. 

Dream turned to his friend, “We gotta account for human error on their end, random changes. Today taught us that.” 

Sapnap nodded, “We can’t let this all fail. That means we walk the edge of things; precision and improvisation working together.” 

Dream turned to look at the rest of the group, “Next time we do this…it’s not practice.” 

The group hummed in agreement, listening to the rush of the Seine outside, water splashing against water. The city hummed with the river, waiting for what was to come. Dream’s words hung in the air – a promise for the future. 

Everything they had worked for would be put to the test soon, a revolution against routine and outdated security. They had survived the rehearsal – danced near failure and lived to tell the story. Now, the real test loomed in the future, patient and merciless. 

They were ready for the Coronation.

Chapter Text

The morning of the heist was bright, the sun beaming with possibilities swallowed by the Seine which swelled under the constant pressure of rapidly flowing water. The Louvre gleamed beyond the river, lights humming above exhibits, glass cases illuminated. 

In the Apollo Gallery Room sat the Crown Jewels. The crown’s diamonds stood out near the emerald and sapphire jewels which surrounded it. It was almost nine in the morning and the museum was still closed, void of tourists, night staff long gone, day staff slowly arriving. 

The team had rehearsed their plan and reviewed it already. Outside, Tubbo sat in a worktruck, dressed as a maintenance worker, safety vest and all. He was positioned at a make-shift computer station inside of the vehicle, out of the public eye. Near him sat a disc cutter, necessary for the mission. As the clock struck nine, so did Tubbo, carefully overriding the CCTV cameras as they reset and reloaded for the day. Carefully, he looped footage from last week, showing a similar day – bright and sunny, void of any work trucks or thieves. 

Immediately after, he worked to get into the Louvre’s security system, running the worm so that he could begin looping footage from a previous day, one that contained the same staff which were to be patrolling today. He had thought this through, carefully routine behavior and work patterns with Tommy. They had found just the loop to use, taking over the camera system for a half hour period – a time more than long enough to block their arrival, the heist, and their exit. 

“Got it,” Tubbo reported into his earpiece, message purposely unclear so that no one would know the nature of their project – even if they had got access to their comms system. 

With that, George entered the museum, one of the first few guests for the day. He lingered near the public entrance, a hoodie and scarf carefully wrapped around his face, hiding any identifying features. He had to make a distraction, long enough to buy them all some extra time. With that, he began his bit, quietly recording part of it through the earpiece to convey he was in. He put on the roll of a nervous patron, too invested in the art – trying to touch things he was not allowed to. 

His distraction seemed to work – as ridiculous as it was. The lone guard who had begun their round of the museum stopped, bumping into him, getting distracted by the older brunette's frantic speech, descriptions of art, and frantic questions about the museum. 

As the staff slowly got distracted by George and their other patrons, Dream released the mechanical ladder on the sidewalk outside, leaving behind a scooter he had arrived on. As he released the ladder, he pulled the hood of his black sweatshirt up to cover his face. His reflective vest, carefully placed on top of the hoodie gleamed in the sun as he began climbing the ladder, disc cutter in hand, a welding shield in the other hand to use. 

Below, Tommy and Sapnap moved, posing as maintenance members, placing caution tape, traffic cones, and more near their vehicle, watching as cars passed them by without a second thought. As they finished doing so, Dream reached the first floor window near the Denon Wing, carefully approaching the one that would lead into the Apollo Gallery Gallery Room. He yanked the welding helmet over his face after whistling quickly, noticing Tommy and Sapnap had turned at the noise, beginning to now climb up the ladder too, masks and more covering their faces too. 

Dream carefully turned on the disc cutter, quickly and precisely drilling out the window, moving the glass aside afterwards, acting as if they were merely replacing it, not breaking and entering into one of the world’s largest museums. 

After the glass was carefully moved, Dream moved to climb in, leaning out to offer a hand to Tommy and Sapnap who one after another took the hand, leaping into the room. 

As they settled inside, Dream raised a hand to carefully press on his earpiece, whispering out, “We’re in.” 

From the van, Tubbo let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, looping the cameras still while observing the real footage on a separate monitor – footage he would be permanently erasing after this, ensuring it was not found anywhere, too encoded and deconstructed for anyone to view. On the real footage, George had moved, now shifting to be in a different room, still subtly distracting a guard as he began talking to other tourists, scarf still hiding his face. The man had bought them extra time, ten minutes to complete this. 

In the Apollo Room, the trio had begun the mission, Tommy lifting a metal case, lined in velvet, perfect for carrying the jewels in. He had quickly opened it on the floor, standing up to look at Dream and Sapnap. Sapnap stood with the disc cutter now in his hand, the butt of it facing out to use as a battering ram, strong enough to quickly break through the glass case surrounding the thousand year old gems. 

Dream stood, empty handed, mask still covering his face, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he took in their prize which stood right in front of him. This was it and he knew it. The air was thicker in this room, a polished metallic scent gleaming in the room. The guards had been thrown off and nothing was stopping them now – especially as they had arrived early enough that the room was still void of any visitors, patrons too distracted by the scene George was causing on the other side of the room. 

“Ready?” Sapnap interrupted, now holding the disc cutter up, ready to the glass.

Tommy and Dream looked at each other, the younger still kneeling on the floor by the case, the two nodded at each other in agreement before Tommy pressed his earpiece to talk to the others, “Breaking it now. We got two minutes after that.” 

With that, Sapnap swung, the glass breaking, noise blockaded by the closed doorway. Things seemed to happen in slow motion, glass smashing everywhere, falling into the case, on the floor, embedding into Sapnap’s gloved hands, and on Tommy’s blonde curls. 

“Grab it,” Dream snapped, his stopwatch now counting the seconds that passed: 1, 2, 3. 

With that Sapnap slid his gloved hand through the glass case, feeling the weight of history weighing in his chest. The glass was cold, the crown reflecting phantom shapes through its diamonds. For a second, the world felt quiet, awe sinking throughout Sapnap’s body at what he was about to do. 

Slowly, he picked up the crown, unaware of the way his hands had begun to shake. Tommy kneeled on the floor still, surveying what was happening, carefully observing their newest possession. He could recall the diagram of the crown. The real one was even better, almost unreal. 

“It’s beautiful,” Sapnap whispered, finally removing the crown from the case, too awestruck. His gloves felt too big, too much for the gravity of this situation. Diamonds twinkled in the new lighting as Sapnap moved, the weight of history in the palm of his hands. 

Dream’s mouth was open slightly as if he wanted to say something, anything – a prayer, a blessing, a curse. He stepped closer to Sapnap without even meaning too, feeling the way time had slowed down. Things were going perfectly, it seemed like nothing would go wrong. 

Until it did. 

It was small, merely human error. Sapnap’s hand, which had been shaking, twitched: the crown slipping from his fingers, a breath catching in his throat at the mistake, muscles tightening as he froze, watching the priceless crown fall to the floor, a metallic clang echoing through the air as it sank onto the stone floor, marble holding the dented prize. 

Dream and Sapnap froze, Tubbo too from the truck. Sapnap went rigid, face draining of color beneath his mask, fear taking over, the innocence of the crown full of centuries of history now stripped by his mistake. 

Before he could overthink the action, Tubbo’s voice cut through, “You’ve got a minute and a half. I saw what happened but you gotta go. Now. Grab what you can and go.” 

Dream nodded beneath his mask, noting the way Tommy scrambled to grab the crown, securing it into case before turning to Sapnap as if expecting him to hand him something else. However, the boy was still frozen, unable to do anything else. 

“Snap out of it,” Dream whispered, pushing Sapnap to now stand behind him, trying to save their plan before it could fall apart, “The rest. Get the rest.”

Chapter Text

Sapnap’s mind was running, recalling the way the crown had set at his feet, dented and cold from the lack of lighting. It resembled a fallen monarch, defeated by his own hands. The diamonds that once seemed to shine so bright had seemed so dull, weakly flickering as if aware of the gravity of the situation. The crown was not a piece of jewelry anymore, not after what he had done. Instead it was a living artifact, life weakened and fragile due to his mistake. 

He shook, standing behind Dream who had moved in front of him, reaching into the glass case, gloved on his hands too. Carefully the blonde lifted out the Marie-Louise emerald necklace, handing it to Tommy. 

The three stood silent, moving quickly as they realized they didn’t have a lot of extra time. George had managed to distract the guards for them but that would only last so long. 

Seeming to sense that he was being mentioned, George spoke over the earpiece, “They’re headed your way. They’re delayed though. I’m blocking off some tourists now. But I can’t do much else, not without getting caught.” 

“Get out,” Dream reported over his earpiece, passing the sapphire diadem set and a few brooches which Tommy set in the velvet case before slamming it shut, locking the lid and grabbing the handle, “We got everything but we have to go quickly.” 

“One minute,” Tubbo interrupted over the earpiece, watching as George headed to the public exit now. Dream, Sapnap, and Tommy all headed to the ladder, Dream dragging Sapnap along, the boy still shocked from what he’d done. 

Tommy held the case in his hand, thinking of the adrenaline that had sunk into his body the moment he lifted the crown. He could still picture the jewels, now safely locked away in his grasp. He could picture how the emeralds had shimmered in the light, the sapphires full of frost blue flames. 

“I’m out. Taking the scooter now,” George reported, quickly leaving the scene before the alarm could begin going off. 

“There’s a guard near the Apollo Gallery. They’re distracted for now but it’s not gonna last long, not once that alarm starts going,” Tubbo warned, moving to the driver seat of the truck, ready to fly off as soon as the three boys exited the museum. 

Tommy flew down the ladder, case in one hand, clambering onto a scooter, tucking the case into his chest and flying off towards the direction of the warehouse. 

Right after him came Sapnap and Dream, the latter slamming the ladder down after him, hiding that it had ever been raised in the first place. The two took the last scooter together, Dream driving with Sapnap wrapped around his back, adrenaline and fear sinking in his body. 

Now alone, Tubbo started the truck, heading down to the port to park at the shipping yard. He carefully yanked out his phone – a burner Sapnap had set up for him, holding it to his shoulder as he began to speak into it, moving his monitors and computer into a separate car at the same time, “Q, Karl. You gotta come get this truck, hide it now. Keep it out of sight for a bit. I’m taking the car. The sooner you get this thing out of Paris, the better.” 

“What?” Karl asked, keys jangling over his end of the phone as he stood from his apartment, frantically moving to head outside with Quackity following behind him, “Little warning would have been nice, you know?”

“Didn’t have time,” Tubbo responded before hanging up, wishing Sapnap had been the one to deal with these two. After all, Sapnap was the one that they owed a favor to, not Tubbo. 

“Tubbo, we’re back. Where are you? Are the alarms starting to go off?” Tommy’s voice ripped through his earpiece that he had left in, anxiety in the boy’s voice as he feared what was happening to his friend. 

“I’m coming, mate,” Tubbo began, slamming shut the trunk of Q’s car, moving to enter the driver’s seat, revving the engine, then pulling out, heading down the street to their warehouse, hidden from public and private view. 

Within minutes, Tubbo was back at the warehouse, yanking the door open in victory, his set-up being carried in via a luggage case which he dragged behind him. After setting it on the floor, he looked up, a maniacal grin on his face: they had done it. 

The crown may have been dented but things were finally secured. The Coronation had been a success.

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe I dropped it,” Sapnap spoke up, his eyes fixated on the crown that was now sitting on the table in front of them. The group had decided to rest in the warehouse while things calmed down outside. 

A siren sounded outside, fading into the distance as Dream replied from the couch, George’s head on his shoulder, one arm around his waist, “You may have dropped it but we still made it out. We got what we wanted and we all avoided getting caught. That’s what matters.”

Tommy snorted, a short laugh full of laughter and exhaustion as he watched Tubbo finish deleting the last of the footage he had been observing during the heist. He had managed to code a virus into the footage, deconstructing it so much that no one would ever be able to tell what had really happened. 

“What?” Sapnap interrupted, looking at Tommy, questioning why the younger had laughed at Dream’s words. 

Tommy sat up in the arm chair he had been laid out across, “It’s just crazy that we’re sitting here like we succeeded. The crown’s dented. I’m not blaming Sapnap. I’m just pointing out that our ‘perfect plan’ wasn’t so perfect.” 

“Perfection is a concept,” Dream retorted, “So what it’s a little dented. That crown is still one of a kind. It’s worth millions even with a little scuff on it.” 

Sapnap nodded, understanding that his team didn’t blame him for what had happened but themselves – they had planned meticulously, focusing on the actions of others but not themselves. They had never even imagined that human error on their end could have gotten them caught.  

“He’s right,” George stated, leaning up to snatch another one of the jewels from the table, the sapphire necklace. Carefully he draped it across his neck, standing up to begin showing off the necklace, “And hey, look! Don’t I look dapper, like royalty.” 

Dream rolled his eyes, amusement and apprehension in them, “Be careful you idiot.” 

George merely smirked listening to the laughter of his friends as he set the necklace down again. Beside him, Sapnap moved, sitting at the table, gloves on his hands again, carefully lifting the crown to cradle it. Finally, he let himself laugh, joining his friends. 

“I still can’t believe we just did that,” Tubbo announced, stretching to crack his back after turning his computer off, “We just took it all. Well, you guys took it but still.” 

Tommy nodded in agreement. 

“You do know this whole thing would have been impossible without you, right? I was scared at first, working with new people,” Sapnap admitted, setting the crown down to address Tubbo, “I’m so used to it just being Dream, George, and I but we needed another set of hands. And sure, we could have just asked Karl and Quackity to do more but you and Tommy? You guys did a lot, a lot more than I did. Hell, we wouldn’t have gotten into the data system without you, Tubbo.” 

Tubbo’s eyes were fixed on Sapnap, wide as if he had not been aware of how important his role was to the group, “You mean that?” 

Sapnap nodded, smiling at the younger boy, “I do. I mean, you guys are like family to me now. I…I don’t take that lightly. I guess I just wanna say thank you.” 

Tubbo smiled, standing up to walk over to a fridge that they had just stocked up on. He pulled out two bottles of wine – one alcoholic, one non-alcoholic. He quietly grabbed glasses, filling them up and passing them out before turning to take in their dysfunctional but incredible team. 

Raising his glass, he started a toast, smiling at everyone, “To family.” 

The group all looked at each other, grins on their faces too as they raised their glasses to join Tubbo, repeating his words: “to family.” 

Things seemed good at that moment but in the coming days the environment changed. The safehouse once full of laughter grew quiet. The initial adrenaline of the heist began to diminish, giving way to bouts of anxiety and frustration. 

Tubbo wanted nothing more than to disappear. He had already begun to anxiously plan ways he could vanish, leaving no trace of his existence. He barely spoke to the team anymore, only addressing Tommy who had begun to grow distant too. 

Tommy’s distance came in a different form than Tubbo’s. He avoided looking at the crown. He hid from the jewels and refused to talk about the heist, distracting himself from what he had done. Instead, he worked to bury himself in books and lecture notes. While he tried to ignore these problems, the theft hung over him, weighing down on his shoulders. 

Sapnap, George, and Dream grew closer, coping in different ways while they did so. George acted indifferent, refusing to be affected by what they had done, too used to the attention they had brought to themselves while first traveling through Europe.

Sapnap grew protective, defending Dream above anything else. His loyalty burnt bright even though guilt had begun to spread like a fire underneath his skin. Time and time again, he defended his actions and decisions, reminding Dream that they had done what they had to do. 

Dream, the leader of the group, grew insistent that they focus on the future. The mission had never been about the objects themselves. Instead, it was about proving they could do it, demonstrating that art shouldn’t be locked away for centuries, forgotten. Instead, it should be appreciated. 

That was why he grew insistent that the group keep the jewels in their vision whether they wanted to see them or not. The police had begun searching for the jewels and it was their job to keep them safe – beautiful and alive. 

The group’s anxiety and mixed feelings made day to day life hard but they all still insisted on sharing meals together, sharing stories and messing around. On one particular night, Dream had turned on a playlist, a small speaker reflecting the sounds of the song Bella Ciao. 

Tommy had lightly smiled at the song, commenting that it was fitting for their situation. Tubbo had nodded though his eyes showed that he wasn’t really aware of what he had just agreed with. George seemed to notice this and searched for a way to bring some life back to their mission. 

His eyes traced the lay of the jewels on the table near them, a smirk taking his face as he recalled the way he had pranced around in the sapphire necklace before. This time, he grabbed the emerald one, standing up as he draped himself in the jewels, beginning to dance around to the song. 

Sapnap laughed loudly at the action while Dream shook his head, reluctantly moving to grab George’s hand, encasing him in his arms and dancing around the room with him. 

“Look at me, I’m royalty!” George joked as Dream twirled him around, “All hail King George!” 

Dream wheezed in laughter, a large grin stretched across his face as he jokingly commented, “Stop prancing or we’ll actually get caught.” 

George just giggled back, continuing to dance with Dream. As the song changed and the two continued to move around, Sapnap shifted to approach Tommy who was studying the action of the blond and brunette boy, a quiet smile on his face. All the while, Tubbo’s eyes were locked on the table, a sad smile on his face as his mind began going into overdrive, pondering the future. 

That evening ended as it had begun – in fragments. The Coronation had been a success but each triumph came at a cost and it seemed that the weight of this heist would follow them all long after the sun set.

Chapter Text

The team had moved back to their loft after hiding out for a few days, making sure things had dialed down. Paris’s streets had welcomed them back, air thick with cigarette smoke and unspoken fear. The media had been consumed with news of their heist, headlines of “CROWN JEWELS STOLEN” stretching across each screen – laptop, phone, TV. 

In the loft, Dream sat watching one report about the heist hearing the voice of a news anchor speaking rapidly, “Authorities are investigating…foreign involvement suspected…Interpol and French police on high alert…” 

Dream sighed, carefully turning the TV off, eyes shifting to rest on the locked case that sat in front of him now holding all of the jewels within it. 

“You know,” George interrupted from the kitchen, a mug of tea in one hand, “I thought it was bad enough last week, when police were just rushing around the Louvre looking for signs we’d been there. But now Interpol is getting involved. We’ve been on their watch list for a while so let’s just hope that we don’t get blamed. Well, that and that they don’t tear the city of Paris apart over this either.”  

Sapnap leaned back, sitting on the floor in front of the couch beside Dream, voice rough, “It’s insane. They’re talking about these international thieves and government planned attacks and we’re just...sitting here.” 

Sapnap lifted his right hand, rubbing it down his face before continuing to speak, voice softer, “I keep seeing it, you know? I know you guys said not to blame myself but I can’t stop seeing that dent. God, I–” 

“Stop,” Dream interrupted, his hand moving to Sapnap’s shoulder, “What happened, happened. You can’t keep blaming yourself.” 

His words were brittle, partly broken. He wanted to believe them as he spoke but he too couldn't help but to think of what had happened in the Louvre. Sure, Sapnap had dropped the crown but he had messed things up too. He had been the team leader. It should have been his job to prepare for mistakes but instead he just blew off everyone’s concerns pushing them harder and harder, not even considering the way his words would impact others. 

Tubbo had gone ghost on them. He was still in Paris, Dream knew that. But he had sunk into himself, leaving to hide out somewhere else away from them and away from the jewels that haunted his memory. 

Tommy had sunk back into his studies, unable to stand being near the steel case that held the Crown Jewels. He needed somewhere where he could relax, think about something else. At first, he had just planned to go to a small cafe but that changed when he came across a small university, tucked between the streets of Paris. 

He crept into a lecture hall, seats half-full of students, air thick with chalk. He hid in the back of the room, sitting close to the door in case he needed to escape. His mind couldn’t help but to go back to the jewels, the clang of the crown as it hit the floor of the Louvre. 

Just as his brain began running and his breathing picked up, the professor entered, turning to his students, taking in their appearance before beginning to speak, “History is rarely recorded in absolutes. Often, actions are regarded as criminal in one century and revolutionary in another. There is a very thin line between theft and heroism. That means that sometimes what is legal may not be moral and what is moral is rarely legal.” 

With that, the professor leaned over to turn on a projector screen which Tommy hadn’t noticed. On the screen was a picture of the Apollo Gallery Room, the jewels sitting inside of it, untouched. Tommy froze as he took in the picture, hand stopping midair before he could write anything down. His mind began racing, thinking of his teammates, the professor's words, and of the heist he had partaken in which was being regarded as revolutionary. Did that mean that it would be regarded as criminals in the future? Would people assume he was evil? That his teammates were evil? 

They weren’t – not really. Dream was a self-titled architect who just wanted to change history. Tubbo was a coder, brought into a mission he never really wanted to complete. Sapnap was different, stronger. He had followed his friends through everything and would continue to do so. And George, the distraction, had only ever played into a role others assigned him, juggling danger with absurd actions. 

Tommy sighed. He wasn’t sure how he fit into everything, not anymore. 

Oblivious to the panicking of the blonde, the professor continued his lecture, pointing to the pictures of the jewels, words cutting through Tommy like a scalpel, “If you remove an object from history, from its context and expose it to corruption, is it theft or stewardship? Rebellion or crime? Can the ends justify the means?” 

Tommy felt his hand glitch, grabbing his pencil from the desk, turning to write a single word on the margin of a notebook he had brought along: uncertain. 

His stomach felt tight. He was being reminded of what he had done, what his team had done. Sure, they hadn’t yet been caught but that didn’t mean they were free. The guilt of things still stuck with them. He felt like he was drowning in the weight of judgment. God, they had changed history. But for what? He didn’t know. 

Hours later, Tommy stumbled back to the loft, prying open the door to see the steel case with the jewels sat atop the coffee table in the living room, Dream, George, and Sapnap sitting around it – Tubbo still gone, hiding. 

Dream’s voice cut through the air as Tommy closed the door sensing that something was coming, “We need to figure out what to do with them. I never planned on keeping them.” 

The group looked at each other as Tommy too sat down on the couch, “What can we do? I mean, I think we should turn them in and…well I was at this lecture today and it got me thinking. I know we did this just to prove we could but how do you think people are gonna take that? I mean…are we the bad guys now?” 

Sapnap looked up, eyes focused on Tommy, “We can’t do that. We can’t just turn them in. George’s DNA is all over them after our little dance party. Not to mention what would we say? ‘Oh hey I just found these while walking through Paris. Here take them and don’t arrest me?’” 

Tommy huffed in frustration, “I know that, okay? I know! But this is killing me. I was trying to be fine but I’m not. Tubbo’s not. He can’t even look at us, at those stupid jewels. We need to get them out of here, melt them down or something.” 

“No,” George snapped, “We are not just gonna melt them down. They’d be ruined. These things are worth millions, we can't just destroy that.” 

“This was never about the jewels or money,” Dream spoke up, voice low as he stood up taking the case - dented crown and collection of jewels - with him, “I’ll figure it out before we all say things we regret.” 

With that he headed towards the door, slamming it shut behind him. Everyone sat there frozen before their eyes flickered to each other, panic soaking through their bodies. 

Later that night, Dream returned, case gone. No one asked where it had gone, too anxious to know the truth, but they did call Tubbo, asking him to return, to be with them now that things were dialing down again. 

And so, the group spent the next two weeks, their last together in Paris, rebuilding their family, learning to get along again without the reminder of their crime. 

It was during one of their last few days together that George dragged them all to the living room, turning the TV on.

“Crown jewels mysteriously recovered,” one reporter stated, the camera showing a crate being transported from a Paris shipping yard, the jewels carefully stored inside. 

The news continued on, stating that the jewels were all intact – all in perfect condition.

Sapnap looked around at the group, all of them knowing the truth, “Perfect condition…But that’s impossible.” 

Dream kept his eyes on the screen, voice cold, “I got them replaced, had fakes made. Reached out to a guy, Schlatt – Q’s one friend. Had him sell the real ones. They’re privately owned now – not melted down or anything.” 

“You what?” Tubbo asked in shock.

Dream turned to look at Tubbo, clearing his throat, “We kept fighting and you couldn’t stand to be near us when those jewels existed so I sold them, set up offshore accounts for each of us. We’ve got more than enough money to not have to work another day of our lives.” 

The group exchanged glances, wonder shining through their eyes before George turned, pouncing on Dream as he began whispering thank you’s repeatedly. Soon, the whole group joined in, finding themselves on the floor tangled together, a mess of smiles and tears. 

The outside world was silent, oblivious to the newfound inheritance they had come into, the Coronation a mere tale, the knowledge of what had happened to the real jewels buried – both in history and conscience.

Chapter Text

Dream carefully sipped at his coffee, sitting along a cafe near the Quai du Louvre, his fingers resting on the handle of the cup. Paris breathed around him, fresh air reflecting, indifferent to the chaos that it had once been home to. 

Across the Seine, the Louvre gleamed. It’s glass panels reflecting off of the morning sunlight. Tourists clustered around the building, chatter occurring about the unveiling of the French Crown Jewels mere weeks after they had been recovered. 

Dream had returned to this cafe, this spot, more times than he cared to admit, observing the chatter of the tourists who were too busy fantasizing about the jewels to notice the thief who sat next to them. He didn’t do this to gloat or haunt the area, merely to say goodbye, to get closure. The new jewels sat behind glass: the dent on the crown gone, the diamonds and emeralds polished. They exuded perfection, something Dream knew to be a lie. 

Somewhere, off in the distance sat the real Crown Jewels – at home in a private collection free of prying eyes and nosy tourists. They sat, gleaming in true light, worshipped by their new owner, the dent of the diadem shining proudly – a symbol of the trouble the thieves had gone through getting them. 

Dream focused on the cafe around him, humming with life: the clinking of ceramic cups, the scratching of a pen on paper, the chatter of conversation. None of it affected him. He was too busy thinking about his team, scattered but reuniting soon. 

Tommy and Tubbo had slipped into the shadows, returning to the anonymity of life in the UK quietly. London was less forging than Paris but it was familiar to the two and they enjoyed its structure. Tubbo had been careful to vanish from every network that could possibly trace him. He built ghost accounts, purposely set up complex datasets that were merely dead ends, his digital footprint fading like mist. He was tired of being so on edge and Tommy helped him return to normal life. The two had moved in together sharing meals, spending evenings solving puzzles together, sipping on cups of tea as if they were an old married couple. 

The two enjoyed life in London but they truly had bonded with the rest of the crew. As a result, they had set up a routine to see each other frequently. The group would travel together once a month, spend a week together seeing whatever sites they wanted to before returning home – the perks of being young, new millionaires. 

Dream too was going to be moving, settling in with Sapnap and George who had disappeared across the Atlantic, away from the other Brits. They had joked about it at first – the three of them living together. But the more they joked, the more serious things became and soon enough they had purchased a house in Florida that would fit them all. The two had gone to their new home and were setting things up while Dream said goodbye to Paris. 

While he was not yet there, the two still made Dream feel more than welcome – Sapnap through occasional messages, reminding him of his loyalty; George through absurd pictures and long phone calls that served as a reminder of the quiet life that awaited him. 

Going from constant traveling to remaining in one place would be odd. But oddly enough, Dream was ready for it. He could imagine his life with the team – his new family – and felt his chest lighten with the potential of what was to come. He could almost hear the laughter between the group, silly arguments that were sure to occur every time they met up. Life would go on after the Coronation and he would allow it to. 

In the cafe still, Dream leaned back in his chair, feeling the thrill of possibility, the same pull that had once let him build his team. He knew the world would travel to Paris, view the Crown Jewels in their ‘flawless’ condition and move on with their day, never knowing the truth of what had happened. That knowledge served as a comfort to him, a companion heavier than any steel case or vault. Slowly standing, Dream began walking along the Quai, sliding past the Seine, stepping around tourists, and past the Louvre which stood tall in ignorance of the truth. 

Pausing at the corner of the street, Dream turned back once, looking at the city, observing the way it stood – moving, breathing, beautiful, and indifferent. He smiled at the sight, satisfaction in his chest before stepping into a crowd becoming a shadow among many, carrying the quiet knowledge of the truth – a truth no one else would ever know. 

The public would never see the dent in the real crown, never suspect that the real one was gone – truly removed and sold. In his heart, the weight of the Coronation remained, a private acknowledgement of how his risk had paid off – paying him back for the audacious action. He found confidence in that feeling, confidence that he would live his life beside his team carrying the weight of immortality and history. The Coronation had made them all kings of an unknown empire, one that would live in the footnotes of every history book.

The real jewels would never be seen again. The dented diadem would remain a secret between five friends, a testament to the night they changed everything. 

With that satisfaction, Dream disappeared from Paris. He was ready to go home.