Work Text:
Pandora supposed to be simple. He had a plan for everything. Make Sam his Warden because the man was a stickler for the rules. Have Punz ‘betray’ him to make it seem as if the blond wasn’t supporting him anymore. Get thrown in prison for just a couple of weeks to get the server to get off of the high horse they had for killing him. And then everything would go back as he intended.
Except, that was so far from the reality of the situation. Sam played by the rules until it was convenient for him not to. There wasn’t a way for Dream to escape on his own or for Punz to let him out without causing suspicion. It was fine for a while. He could handle being bored and hot. He could sit in a cell by himself for months. It was fine. He would get through it.
Well. It was fine. Until Quackity started arriving every single day with a nee weapon of his choosing to make Dream’s life a living hell. He couldn’t count the amount of times he had been left on the brink of death, teetering on the edge of life, only for Quackity to shove a potion down his throat and choking him on the slimy liquid. He remembers feeling his bones mending back together and his skin stitching in his chest. It hurt like hell.
It was a feeling that nobody should ever have to experience. One that he really wished he didn’t have to go through himself. He hated the feeling of his bones snapping beneath Quackity’s boots as he propped his arm against a ledge and stomped on it. He could still feel the way the man’s knife glided through his flesh, flaying him like an animal being ready to be cooked.
The relief he had felt when Techno had finally been thrown into that hell hole with him almost matched the anger and humiliation. Techno was his equal. One of the only men that could compete with Dream and do it well. To have his former rival see him broken and beaten, choking in his own blood inside an obsidian box wasn’t the ideal situation.
If Techno was judging him for it though, the man never let it show. He never made a face when Dream begged Quackity to stop. He never called it an inconvenience when Dream needed to mop up his own blood from the floor. In fact, the man had helped him out here and there, offering Dream his cape to lay on of holding pressure into gaping wounds.
His body still ached with the phantom pain of the torture he had endured in that box. It was never supposed to be as bad as it was. He wasn’t supposed to be broken down into a sobbing and begging mess for a man like Quackity, but the world had a funny way of working. Always fucking him over and leaving him in the shittiest realm of possibilities.
He hated how pathetic the prison made him feel. The way he was reduced to nothing but a mess wailing for the pain to stop. Death would have been a less cruel fate than the hell that box had put him through. He had tried to kill himself far too many times than he would like to admit. It was pathetic.
He had never thought he would be reduced to what pandora had made him, but he guessed that it was the irony of it all. His downfall was his own creation. He was pulled from that box by a man he used to call his rival crying and choking on his own blood. He had stumbled his way through the snow, feeling his feet gradually seep in the cold until the frost bite and hypothermia set in. He remembers collapsing into Punz’s arms because his body didn’t have the capacity left to keep himself going.
For far too long after being broken out, Dream had almost given up. Was it really worth all of the pain he had gone through? He could hardly look at obsidian without falling into an episode of panic. How would he ever reach anywhere near the person he had once been. Giving up was so much easier than trying to rebuild his fragile mind and body. He was weak and he was broken and he wasn’t sure there was ever going to be a way to really fix that.
Punz had eventually convinced him that not all hope was lost. It was the blond man that cleaned his wounds when Dream couldn’t himself. It was him that pulled him off of his sorry ass and told him to keep fighting despite it all. Dream wasn’t sure if it was a mercy or not.
Most days he still thought that being dead was better than the fate he was living now, trying to build strength back into a broken body. He saw himself reduced to some pathetic shell of the person he used to be and he wanted to shoot his cross bow through his own neck or drink enough harming potions that his eyes would close permanently.
Those deaths would be mercy. It wasn’t the slow agonizing suffering that Quackity had forced him through. Those were quick and near painless. The only thing he would feel is the satisfaction and relief as his body slowly stopped functioning.
He didn’t like to think about the time that Punz had found him like that. It was so soon after escaping and he couldn’t take it anymore. He chugged harming pots until the world was spinning and throbbing around him. He thinks he was dead when Punz found him, but the blond never confirmed that. He had been brought back to life through the powers of the revival book.
Een though Punz hadn’t confirmed his death to him, Dream knew he had died. He remembers just the few days he had spent in limbo. Suicide was a void. Punz and him had figured that out before Dream had been thrown away in prison. A representation of the darkness inside that drove somebody to end their own life. Limbo was a cruel thing. You never got to escape the darkness.
That was months ago now. Far before Dream was able to walk and run on his own again. Much far before Dream was able to wield a sword again and hold his own against Punz in a simple spar. It had been a long road to recovery, one that Dream had spent so long assuiming he would ever be able to get out of.
He was glad Punz kept him from spiraling and didn’t allow him to give up. Dream wondered if it was only because of the payment or due to the off chance that the older man saw a small part of him and a friend. It was unlikely. He didn’t get to have friends.
Friends turned into the people carving their name into his back, pouring fire resistance into the would so it scorched his skin from healing correctly. A reminded that as long as he lived, he would never really be free. He would always be branded like a dog.
Whatever pride he had once taken in his body had been drained weeks into the prison. His muscles had slowly disappeared as he stayed slumped against the wall. The starvation took the meat off of his bones and made them brittle and fragile. The torture left him clawing against the floor to reach the puddle in the corner to vomit or attempt relieving himself. He didn’t get to feel pride in the prison. He didn’t get to take care of himself.
And while now he had built some of the muscle back into his skin and had access to self care, the scars left would never fully disappear as he lived. There was never a reason anybody would get to see them though. He had no reason to ever be out of the long sleeves and cloak he had taken to wearing. He had no reason to take off the mask. The only person that would ever be allowed to see that was Punz, and Quackity and Sam, he supposed, but he didn’t want to think about that.
The thought dragged him back to the present situation he was in, boots planted into the ground and knees protesting slightly as he stayed crouched low to the ground. The wind whistled over his ears, causing a gentle chill to run down his back. Dream shook his shoulders as he peered farther over the undergrowth he was hidden in.
The city really was beautiful. Lights glittered in the sky, yet left enough darkness for the stars to shine through. The greenery was perfect and well managed, but kept to look wild. A part of him thinks of a time this could have been all of their homes.
He could imagine building this place from the ground, laughing and getting sunburnt just as they had all those years ago constructing the community. Dream would never be able to lie to himself enough to say he didn’t miss them.
He had grown up with George and Sapnap. It had been the three of them against the entire world. They never had anything but each other and they still took on whatever met them with open arms and smiles. It still confuse him how the two people he would have destroyed the world for could betray him so easily. Well, Sapnap at least. The man had been one of the largest factors in his capture, dragging him to the prison himself and then vowing to kill him if he ever escaped his personal hell.
Georg on the other hand? Dream didn’t know what to think about him anymore. All he heard in the past year was that he was sleeping his life away. Part of it concerned him. The other part was hopeful that maybe George didn’t hate him. Maybe he wasn’t there to help him because he was sleeping and had no idea what was going on. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t visited.
he recalled the conversation he had with Sapnap shortly after escaping. His friends claiming that George had zero interest in him anymore. Dream couldn’t find it in his heart to believe in.
They used to be each other’s everything. In Dream’s world, George had hung the stars y hand in the sky. he was the most perfect soul that Dream had ever encountered. Kind with the best type of humor. He knew George felt the same about him. They wouldn’t have shared so many nights under the stars wrapping in each other’s bodies if he hadn’t.
So, that small part in Dream still existed that believed that George didn’t know. That believed that George deep down still loved him the way that Dream had tried to convince himself he didn’t love George.
It had been impossible to try and convince himself that he had fallen out of love with George. He didn’t think it would be possible for him to do so. The other man had been his reason for living in their teens. He was Dream’s everything and a part of Dream thought he would love him for the rest of his life whether he liked it or not.
He believed that it was part of the reason he found himself in Kinoko Kingdom tonight. That small fire in him he had never been able to quell. The voice inside of him that whispered George’s name into his sleep at night.
He had no idea which of these buildings was George’s. the last thing he needed tonight was to accidentally find himself waltzing into Sapnap’s home and getting himself murdered, much to Punz inconvenience.
He crept through the city, searching for anything that could clue him into where George was. Nothing caught his eye at first. Most of the abodes were the same identical mushroom inspired pattern as the last. It made them impossible to distinguish from each other, until a patterned shield caught his eye.
He couldn’t help the flare of hope igniting in his heart as he stared at the shield he had given to George so long ago now. Hope was such a dangerous thing. he had learned that lesson far too many times.
The days he spent praying that Sam would step in and end the torture from Quackity. The excitement he had felt when he heard Sapnap was visiting. The satisfaction of having a cat in the cell only to see her tiny body crushed and mutilated under Tommy’s hands. He hadn’t been able to bear seeing the bloodied fur in the cell longer than a couple moments after she was dead. He had tossed the still creature into the lava, hoping to give her some peace in death. He knew there was none.
So he tried to keep himself from getting to excited as he made his way towards the door, slowly testing the handle. It opened smoothly, almost as if it had been waiting for him to arrive here tonight. Like some kind of omen.
Dream quietly moved through the house, not wanting to startle George if he was sleeping. The place wasn’t very big. Just a room or two connected to the main room which held the kitchen and a couch. The first door he opened led him to a nearly empty space. There was only a couple unopened boxes in the center of the room.
Dream made his way forward, curiosity getting the best of him. He pulled a ox open only to be met with a photo on the top. Him George and Sapnap when they had first arrived to this land. They had been so young and happy. It made Dream’s heart ache to look at. He could see the way his and Gorge’s hands were locked together in the background of the image. He took a deep breath, clearing his throat as he pulled the box back closed again and stepped out of the room.
He didn’t have time for the storm of emotions seeing that photograph had inflicted onto him. He cleared his head as best as he could before opening the second door. It was a bedroom. George’s bedroom. The lights were off and a warm silence was settled over the entire room. Moonlight filtered through clear windows painting the whole room in a soft baby blue. Dream smiled.
His eyes traced the bed, only for his brows to furrow as he realized it was empty. He cocked his head, taking a step forward to see if it was merely his mind playing tricks on him. It wasn’t. George wasn’t there.
There was a creak on the far side of the room and Dream jumped. He whipped around to look, only to be met with a cracked door. It was swinging slightly in the wind, clearly opening to the forest behind the house. Dream huffed a sigh of annoyance. He hadn’t been planning on tracking George all the way through the forest, but that looked like where this might be headed.
He pulled the door open and was taken back by the cold breeze. He stood for a moment as the memories of months of torture in isolation and washed over him. Sometimes all it took was a simple thing like the wind to remind him of how far he’s come from them. He only let it distract him for a moment more before he began his track into the forest.
He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for, but he hope that his body would lead him the right way. He typically had a sense like that when it came to George.
Unlike most places in the server, he had never explored these words before. There wasn’t a mapped out path in his mind where he believed George could’ve gone, but he let his legs carry him through undergrowth. Honestly, there was a chance that George was not out here at all. The odds really were that the man hadn’t been sleeping in his house that night or he was somewhere else in that Dream was chasing ghosts out in the backyard.
Dream couldn’t find it himself to care about those odds. He had a feeling. He wasn’t gonna let this opportunity go to waste.
As he kept making his way across the forest, the cold started to set in. His mind briefly brought him back to that long trek after just escaping, but he quickly shook the thought away. It was the same part of him that wondered if he’d ever fully recover from the things that happened in that cell. It was the same part of him that believed no matter how much he tried to push it down, he would never escape it. Quackity would always hold this awful power over him that he would never be able to get rid of. He shook his head. It wasn’t the time for that now.
He wouldn’t let Quackity take away from this moment.
After wandering for a couple more minutes, Dream began to hear voices from the undergrowth in front of him. One of them was undeniably George. The sickly sweet sound of his voice rang through Dream’s ears and overwhelmed him with memories of the past. The other voice treatment never heard before. It almost sounded distorted as he listened to the trees.
Carefully watching where he was stepping, he began to move closer. He didn’t want to get himself through the situation without knowing who George was talking to first. Half of the server wanted to kill him and he wasn’t gonna take the risk.
When he finally made it enough to peer out through the leaves in front of him, his heart dropped into his stomach. George was there perfect as ever. He had a mushroom gap on top of his head and a blue cape around his neck, only reaching about his waist. He had a white button shirt on and some brown slacks. He was beautiful on the side of him alone made Dream want to cry.
But standing next to George was a fake Dream knew all too well. Clad and dark green robes and accents of gold was the servers God. Dream had seen the being throw off far too many situations by now to know he was bad news. XD was a simple creature. He thrive off of control in abiding by his version of the rules. He would make deals in order to receive morally devotion and then prey on the people he captured.
Dream could only pray that the situation in front of him wasn’t what his mind was fearing. He hopes that George hadn’t fallen into the trap that they got it set for so many people before him. But again, rope was a fragile thing.
Dream didn’t have to watch for much longer to see the guy grab George by the waist to pull him in. Their lips met and the moment they did, Dream felt the only unbroken part of him shatter.
The only piece of him that Quackity had never been able to touch was the part of his heart reserved for George. Now that piece was ruined. As he watched the guard press against George’s lips, he felt his insights tearing him apart. He wanted to cry and scream all at the same time. None of this was fair. How did George fallen for this? He knew that the older man was smart enough to see that God was fooling him. So why had he fallen for XD’s lies?
As the God’s hand slipped down towards your hip, dream couldn’t make himself watch. He turned away, uncaring of the noise he was making and began running back.
He didn’t want to acknowledge the shattering in his heart. He didn’t wanna think about what he had just seen. He cursed himself for even the small hope that things could’ve been anything like they used to be. The people he knew were gone. The George he knew it was gone. There was no happiness in this world for him. He should’ve known that the second Quackity began visiting him in that cell every day.
He didn’t know where his legs were taking him. All he cared about was that they were taking him away from the terror he had just witnessed.
Much to his despair, Dream felt the burning in his eyes as hot tears built up. He sniffed, running a hand over his face to stop himself from the humiliation of crying. He couldn’t get the feeling to stop. It was pointless.
The sob that broke free from his throat was raw and embarrassing. The tears were falling freely now as he ran, not paying attention to where he was going.
He should have never came. The only part of him that was still alive had just been murdered brutally. He wanted George. He wanted his lover. He wanted his reason to wake up in the morning and he wanted his sunshine.
George was supposed to be his. They were supposed to get married with Sapnap as his best man. They were supposed to grow old together and laugh about their aching bones. Another sob broke through
Now he had none of that. He was a traumatized shell of the man he had once been. Everyone who had once loved him now hated him, vowing to be the reason for his death. His best friend was going to be the one holding the blade when he inevitably fell.
The man he loved most in the world was gone. George was gone.
His foot caught on a root of the undergrowth and he hit the ground hard. The impact slammed the air out of him. He wheezed around his crying and tried to ignore the ache in his entire body from the fall. He tried to pick himself up. He couldn’t. His heart was racing too fast. The tears were too strong.
He scrambled into a sitting position and moved until his back slammed against a tree. He jumped at the feeling, unable to stop the sobs pouring out. His heart felt like it was being carved out of his chest and torn from his body.
His cruel mind ran through images of what could have been. Him and George sitting together on the beach promising that it would be forever. The first time they had kissed and how they had both cried. The house they had built together in their mind to retreat back to one day. The hidden whispers about raising a farm together and watching the sunsets until they grew old and grey.
If Dream could take it all back and run away with George far before Wilbur soot even appeared onto this server he would. All he wanted was George. That was where his loyalties had always lied.
Now he was gone.
“You were too late,” The voice was cruel and Dream recognized it immediately. He looked up and was met with glowing green eyes behind a mask. XD was floating in front of him, his grin wicked in the moonlight.
If Dream had half the mind to be embarrassed, he would have been. He couldn’t have been bothered right now though.
“He waited for so long it drove him crazy.” XD was talking about George. He had to be. There would be no other reason for this conversation right now unless it was to torment Dream farther.
“He waited for you to come home,” XD sneered, “and you never did.” A fresh wave of tears fell from his eyes as he imagined George waiting in front of the small cottage, hoping one day Dream would come back over those hills.
“He would have ran away with you. He would have burned it all for you.” XD tormented, circling around Dream like a predator preparing for a kill. “He wanted you more than anything.”
“Stop,” Dream begged. He couldn’t stand the feeling of his heart breaking anymore. Each word the god uttered was ripping another chunk of the organ out of his chest.
“He was so desperate for you, that he begged for me.” The god grinned. Dream shook his head, another sob tearing through his lips. “You did this to him, Dream.”
His mouth was open but nothing was coming out. His sobs were silent and painful as they ripped through his body. He shook his head again.
“He is a soulless devoted of mine because you left him to be.” The god laughed in his face. The noise rang in his ears and caused his head to spin in a thousand different directions.
“Your own selfish pride killed him. You killed him, Dream.”
“Stop!” Dream sobbed, begging the god to stop.
“It’s almost pathetic. When he was still aware, every time we touched, he would whisper your name like a prayer.” XD taunted. It hurt so bad. He wanted to hear George laugh again. He anted to hold him. He would settle on dying if it meant that he could have the man one more time.
“Then his mind decayed into the thoughtless mass it is now.” He leaned closer, “and its all your fault.”
Dream couldn't take it. He reached for the sword at his hip and sprung forward cutting through the air. “Stop!” He screamed. The weight of the swing threw him off balance as it collided with nothing. Dream tried to breathe.
He looked around for the god, only to be met with the silence of the forest. He had no idea where he was. He was shaking and crying on the mossy floor in the middle of nowhere. He had no idea how to get back from here.
He was stranded. His ankle was hurting from the jerk of the fall. His chest was heaving from the weight of his crying.
Dream fell back to the floor. He didn’t have anywhere else to go. HE didn’t want to go anywhere else. Everything that had once been a reason for him not to give up and die in that cell disappeared. Dream was content to disappear with them.
When Punz finally found Dream, the other man was lying in the moss, covered in dirt. His hands were torn up as if they had scraped against the floor. There were obvious dried tear tracks streaming down his face.
Punz leaned down, carefully checking the other man’s pulse. It was still there, thankfully.
Punz had no idea what Dream was doing in the forest near Kinoko. He silently thanked himself for the compasses he had programed to lead them towards each other. Dream would have died out here if Punz hadn’t found him.
Punz pulled a healing potion off of his belt, carefully popping the lid open. He parted Dream’s lips with his fingers and gently poured the liquid down his throat. It took a couple moments, but Dream’s body soon jerked and a groan left his lips. He didn’t fully wake though. His eyes stayed closed against his cheeks.
Punz sighed. He crouched down, sliding an arm under Dream’s back and knees before pulling him up. The man was still so much lighter than what was healthy. Punz knew it would take time for him to finally get back to what he once was, but it was still sad to feel.
The man did’t stir once as Punz carried him all the way back to their base and laid him in his bed, tucking the blankets around his shoulder. The blond sat in a chair beside the bed, eyes not leaving the sleeping man in front of him.
As the night dragged on, Punz wasn’t able to keep himself awake. His body slowly slipped into rest once he knew the man in front of him was warm and protected.
He would do anything to keep the younger man safe. Dream was brilliant. He was smart and funny. He was ambitious and strong. He was the exact person that turned what Punz thought was a friendship to something more.
He knew Dream would always have his eyes on someone else. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Sweet smile. Punz would never be George. He couldn’t be. He had accepted that not long after Dream had broken out. The man saw him as a partner. Maybe a friend on a good day.
They would never be anything more than that.
Still, there was the tiniest piece of Punz that one day hoped that Dream would open his eyes to who had been right in front of him the entire time.
Hope was a fragile thing though, so Punz never let himself dwell on the thought. He would just be a good friend. That’s all he needed to be.
Dream wouldn’t want him to be anything more.