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Chapter Text

The air in the cave feels heavy on his tongue, wet stone and the faint scent of gunpowder filling his lungs as he takes deep and guided breaths.

It takes far too long for Dream to calm down.

If Technoblade weren't there to practically drag him along kicking and screaming, pushing him down to the ground and shoving his head between his knees, Dream is pretty sure he would have passed out.

As it is, he's only just saved from that fate by Techno's insistence to sit down and breathe.

"The world isn't going to end in a couple minutes," he promises.

Dream relents, taking a moment or twenty to keep his heart from beating through his ribs.

It's only when the episode ends, when the bright-hot fear sinks out of his bones and drips along the floor, that Dream takes a second to remember why he was terrified in the first place.

Dream chokes, scrambling up, and Techno makes a panicked--if inquisitive--sound.

"You're an admin," he whispers, shoving himself on his feet. Technoblade reaches out to steady him when he sways, just a bit.

"You're an admin," Dream says again, staring at the space just above Technoblade's head. A few stray pink strands fly about, even with the wind nearly still inside the cave.

Techno crosses his arms, but his frown makes him look more confused than upset.

"You didn't know," he says, not really asking.

"I didn't," Dream answers anyway.

Technoblade frowns. "I…I thought you knew."

Dream huffs, crossing his arms this time.

"Yeah, well," he says, hugging himself nervously, "Apparently I didn't know a lot of things."

Technoblade meets his gaze, something that makes the both of them squirm pretty quickly, and Dream lets his head sink so he's staring at Techno's boots. They're leather, with tufts of fuzzy white fur popping out the top.

After a moment, Technoblade reaches into the pile of stuff neither wanted to hold and pulls out a small loaf of bread. His friend takes a bite, eyes Dream, and hands him the loaf before taking a few steps back to give him space.

Dream takes a bite, staring at the stone floor of the cave, and turns to look at his friend with wide eyes. Technoblade watches him knowingly, a twitch to his lips. The bread isn't normal, flour bread; it's sweet and tastes faintly of oranges.

Dream hands the loaf back to Techno, and they spend a while sharing bread and breaths in each other's company.

After the bread is halfway gone and they're both tired of it, Techno wraps it and tosses it on top of the pile. Dream would usually protest the end of such a treat, but he's not sure he has any room left in his stomach for even a bite more.

Techno shuffles a few steps back to give Dream space and asks, tentatively, "Is that why you were mad? Because you didn't know they were gods?"

"I wasn't mad."

It would be hard for him to be mad at anyone right now, with his bones still dancing under his skin. His fingers twitch and the tremor in his hands--across his body--feels like if a shiver held a grudge.

"Fine. So you were--" Technoblade makes a face. "--scared of Phil."

"I wasn't scared," Dream protests with a scowl, like their codes aren't still tangled from the space-hop-thing.

Technoblade shoots him a look.

Dream wilts. "Fine. I was a little scared. But he's a God. Of course I was kinda scared."

Technoblade considers him blankly. "Right."

Dream grimaces. "Gods are dangerous," he says, standing straight as his core finally settles in the space of his ribs, "You're an admin, Techno. You know what they do to Admins."

Technobalde's face scrunches up and Dream bites back a snicker at the expression.

"What--what do they do to admins?"

Dream stills, his amusement dropping like a stone. He looks at Technoblade and--even though he's known Techno forever--he's surprised to find his friend isn't joking. He wishes, desperately, that he were.

"They… you know," Dream says nervously, wringing his hands like a dish towel. He doesn't want to have to say it.

"No," Techno refutes, "I don't know, Dream. What do Gods do to Admins?"

Dream screws his eyes shut and takes a deep breath, biting back the newly refreshed distress that threatens to spill out of his codes.

"You--you really don't know?"

Technoblade says, "I really don't."

Dream tries not to let the weight of it sit on him--just how easy it would have been for a God to hurt Technoblade if he didn't even know--and he scoots a few inches closer to his friend.

"Gods don't really like Admins," Dream explains, "and they feed on energy, right?"

After a moment's pause, Technoblade nods so Dream continues, "And Admins are--we're made of energy."

They are, both he and Techno. There's a fluttering to the code, a flicker under their skin that burns and bumbles alight.

"They kill us for our energy?" Technoblade asks and Dream pauses.

"They feed ," Dream corrects, gesturing to the half-gone loaf of bread between them, "Y'know."

Technoblade blinks. He stares at Dream for a minute, making a face torn between incredulous and disgusted.

"Gods…Gods eat Admins?" Techno asks, his lips twitching strangely like he's halfway to a scowl. Dream isn't sure what he's said wrong, so he just barrels on, averting his gaze back to the floor.

"Only if they catch you," Dream says, "but they won't, okay? I'm too fast, and you're too strong. They won't get us."

Technoblade snorts and Dream freezes, hazarding a glance back to his friend. He knows that pigs and Piglins snort for fear, aggression, and dominance. Techno just seems weirdly amused.

"Phil won't eat us," Technoblade says after a moment, "Neither will Foolish or Bad."

Dream, getting ready to refute, short-circuits.

"Bad?" He trails off nervously, "why would Bad…"

Techno cuts him off, "He's a demon, and--I don't know. I didn't want you to worry."

It sounds oddly stilted, like Technoblade's trying to pretend to be Wilbur again.

Dream takes a breath.

"Look," he says, meeting Technoblade's eyes, "I know you trust Philza and--and I'm sure he wouldn't want to hurt you, but Gods…they can't help it."

Technoblade frowns. "What do you mean?"

"We all gotta eat," Dream says, an arm wrapping in front of his chest. "There's only so much energy in the Universe, right? And Gods can't survive without it."

"Even Phil?" Technoblade asks, an eyebrow raised, "Even Foolish? "

Dream swallows.

"I'm sure--I'm sure they don't mean it," Dream says, "but...well, what else can they do?"

Technoblade frowns deeper, clearly not having an answer himself.

Then, after a moment, he asks, "Have you ever seen a God eat an admin?"

Dream shudders, squeezing his eyes shut to drown out the memories of screams.

Finally, once he's caught his breath again, he admits, "Once."

"Are you sure?" Techno asks, looking hesitant.

"Yeah," Dream says shortly, his fists curling tightly. He focuses his gaze on the buttons on Techno's shirt, counting the holes in each of them. When he looks down at his own hands, red drips along his fingers for a split second before clearing away when he blinks.

"I--I don't know why that God ate an admin," Techno says, like Dream hasn't been telling him why this whole time, "but I don't think Philza's going to eat me."

Dream opens his mouth to protest, but Technoblade cuts him off. "If he was going to eat me, why wouldn't he have done it when I was asleep or something? He wouldn't have waited until I got strong."

Dream frowns, but he can't actually find anything wrong with what Techno's said.

"And," Technoblade points out, "Foolish would have just killed you when he met you, before you realized he was a God, right?"

Dream hums unhappily, tapping his fingers together. Still, he nods.

"So, maybe only some Gods eat admins? Or maybe Foolish and Philza and I are special."

Dream pauses, his hands freezing mid-tap. He turns to meet Technoblade's eyes through their masks, his code still half-entangled with Techno's. He follows his own strings until they merge into Techno's, brushing at the source code as subtly as he can.

Technoblade, who jerks immediately, seems to notice.

Dream tries to keep his heart steady, but he can hear it in his ears as he asks, scrambling back a bit when his friend reaches for him, "You're a God?"

Technoblade, a bit frantic himself, points out, "I'm the Blood God, Dream."

"Yeah," Dream hisses, pointing accusatorily, "in tag."

"Don't freak out," Technoblade says, his eyes wide and hands raised in surrender.

"I'm not freaking out!" Dream hisses, even though he's definitely freaking out. The codes still coiled between them tighten and Dream's hands shake even faster than before.

He takes a deep breath, counting the seconds like Puffy taught him to. Technoblade takes one too, and the codes loosen enough for them both to breathe.

"I'm not freaking out," he says again, still freaking out a little bit.

"Okay," Technoblade agrees dubiously.

Dream looks up at the ceiling and then down at his toes.

"You're not gonna eat me," Dream says nervously, pretending like it's not a question.

The air around them shifts, nerves giving way to something hot.

"I'll kill anyone who tries," Techno says, his angry-hungy God eyes glaring at every part of the world that isn't Dream, "God or not."

Dream swallows. "Promise?" he croaks.

Techno nods solemnly. "Pinkie swear."

Chapter Text

Techonblade keeps his vow, snapping at Foolish and Philza with his teeth when they show up later unannounced, keeping a good distance and his own body between them and Dream, his hand on the handle of his sword.

Philza seems surprised, just for a second, but even Technoblade's threat does not make his warm smile waver.

Over the mountains, the sun sets with a soft orange-pink glow, the light illuminating the pink and quickly-purpling splotch growing over Dream's brother's temple.

Dread squeezes at his chest, but he forces himself not to look away from it.

After all, if Philza really doesn't eat him, he needs to know how the Gods deal with weakness.

"Hey," Foolish says, flashing a thing smile at him.

"Hey," Dream responds, half an eye on where Technoblade is whispering frantically with Philza.

The man says something and Techno makes a pained face, his shoulders suddenly tense. The Old God reaches to cup the back of Technoblade's neck and Dream's heart stutters in his chest. He can imagine it, the endless inferno of the Old God's rage washing down his friend's spine and burning at his bones.

He can practically feel it himself.

"It's my fault," Dream blurts, his eyes on Philza and his back to his brother. Foolish is a God, and Gods eat Admins, but Foolish is his brother and he promised he wouldn't hurt him with the voice that means he actually means it. It's not as much of a promise as Technoblade's vow to protect him, but he figures it's enough.

Besides, there's something much more dangerous he needs to focus on.

"Hmm?" the man asks, turning to meet Dream's eyes, "What was that, mate?"

Dream swallows, his throat suddenly as dry as that time he forgot to drink water for a week. Then, louder, "It's my fault. I--I shouldn't have made us leave."

Philza smiles, deceptively kind. His teeth curve like fangs.

"You're not in trouble."

Dream clenches his teeth and Philza tilts his head like one of his crows. "Neither is Techno."

Dream very carefully doesn't turn his gaze to the hand still gripping Techno's neck.

If they aren't in trouble, then why is Techno being punished?

Like he's reading his mind, Philza pulls his hand off Technoblade's neck with a squeeze and lets his arms rest at his sides, watching Dream carefully.

"I know you're afraid," Philza says, his eyes soft like he isn't condemning Dream to a punishment of his own, "but, Dream, I swear that we aren't going to hurt you. Either of you."

The possibilities, the lies, swirl and Dream's chest pulls tight like bands have wrapped themselves around it. His ribs creak as the pressure pulls at them and he snaps, barely aware of the words coming out of his mouth, "Then go away!"

He can hear Foolish shift, just a bit, but Philza doesn't visibly react. Dream's not sure if that's worse or not. At least if he shouted back or even scowled, Dream could be able to tell how much trouble he was in.

"I know you're scared right now, mate," Philza says, his voice calm and cool, "but we're not going to go away."

You're stuck. Trapped.

Dream winces a little bit, but he holds his ground.

"Please," he says shakily, "Please go away."

Philza's eyes soften.

"We're not going to hurt you," he says, and it sinks in Dream's gut with an air of finality.

They aren't leaving, no matter what he says, and they're at least intent on convincing themselves that they won't hurt him, handling him with gentle hands that curl into netherite claws.

---

Dream wants to run.

He wants to feel the world's code flicker like a candlelight beneath his feet, grasses twisting around his ankles. He wants wind to fly through his hair as he finds himself at home in the forest and far away from danger.

But more than that--more than anything--Dream wants to sink into his brother's arms and pull away from the Old God whose eyes drill holes into Dream's soul.

He wants to get away, even though that isn't an option, and it's all he can do to remind himself that they said they won't hurt him.

Even so, their weak promise not to hurt him hasn't delayed their interrogation and Dream feels himself coil in on himself further with every nervous breath.

"No one will hurt you," Foolish vows, followed by a terse nod from Technoblade, but they both fall flat in the distance between them and the Old God at Dream's side.

"Gods--" Dream flinches away from Philza and the Old God's expression tightens, just a bit. The man carries on, meeting Dream's gaze with unnervingly sympathetic eyes, "Gods have a code. It forbids us from hurting anyone for our own gain: players, admins, or other Gods."

Dream bites his lip, flicking his gaze between the ground and the Old God's eyes. "A code?" he asks hesitantly, "Like a promise?"

"Like a law," Philza says, looking determined.

Dream lets the weight of that settle over him, lets the reality sink in and smooth away some of the worst of his terror, but it doesn't help the stifling dread in his chest.

Sure, Philza won't eat him--can't eat him--but that doesn't mean Dream can just mess around and stuff.

The law keeps Philza from eating him for his power, but punishment only helps make Dream better. It's necessary and inescapable, Dream knows, and he's reminded to keep himself in check every time he catches sight of his brother rubbing gingerly at the bruise across his skull.

Even if Dream isn't good at following rules--and he's not, because most of them don't even make sense--he has to try. He can't mess around and get himself hurt…or killed, even, if Philza isn't careful.

Dream holds himself tightly, keeping a bruising grip on his code, and the interrogation draws onward.

"What was his name?" Philza asks, his hands gentle. Dream bites his lip, his teeth scraping the bloodied gouge he's dug into the flesh, and Philza squeezes his arm gently, resting the other below the base of Dream's neck.

Dream freezes, ice burrowing deep in his gut, but Philza just presses tiny circles into the knot of tension above his spine. Dream breathes carefully, spots dancing at the edges of his vision like snowflakes.

"Dream," Phliza says, still gentle, "What was his name?"

He knows better than to lie, but he knows he shouldn't tell the man anything, especially with Technoblade and Foolish listening too. He can't tell them or they'll die, their cores torn from their chests and deep red blood dribbling from their eyes, their rib bones crunching under the weight of--

Philza squeezes gently, cupping the back of his neck, and Dream stumbles, feeling suddenly like the lights have gone out. It's like Philza's wrapped a blanket tightly around his shoulders and settled him close to a fireplace during a winter storm, his mind spinning to a stop.

"What was the God's name, mate?" Philza asks, but it sounds distant and muddled, like the man's talking underwater.

Dream jerks one of his shoulders up in a shrug and mumbles, "I dunno."

"Did you see how his core was tagged?" Philza asks and Dream shrugs again.

"I don't remember," he lies, trying to blink some focus back into his brain. Dream turns a bit and his gaze catches the edges of Philza's frown. He shifts nervously; he's trying to answer the question right, really, but he doesn't know what to say.

He doesn't know what he can say.

The thought of saying the wrong thing, of killing his best friend and his brother, makes his stomach churn.

"That's alright," the God says, smoothing the hand at the base of his neck again.

Dream's vision blurs and the world around him doubles. A whine crawls out of his throat, unbidden, and his knees buckle.

Before he can hit the floor, a pair of strong arms catch him under the arms and he's pulled up against a warm and sturdy chest, feathers tickling his cheek.

He can barely make out the sound of talking, but most of the words slip away from him.

"-hat happened?"

"--'s not used to it, mate. He probably hasn't done it enou--"

Soft tones mix with the peaceful warmth wrapped around Dream's bones, poured in through the back of his neck and cozied up to him long after the hand finally leaves.

Dream settles back against the warm arms holding him, protected and safe and loved.

Chapter Text

Dream wakes up warm.

His bones are lax and heavy, his head tilted against a strong chest. Fingers brush through his hair gently and the faint murmurings of conversation wash over him in droves.

He's so tired and so, so warm, and he knows that the world outside of the arms holding him is cold enough to chill his core.

He doesn't want to pull away, doesn't want to move, but every second he spends sinking into the warmth is another second he has to feel the hungry eyes of Gods he thought he had finally outrun.

It isn't until his memory catches up to him that he can finally put names to the eyes, faces to the void, and he jerks away from the arms carrying him--confining him, trapping him, holding him quiet and keeping him still.

The arms tighten their grip and Dream feels his code flicker and spark, but, surprisingly, Philza lets him go.

Dream bares his teeth and staggers back a few steps.

The Old God, ancient and patient and eternally calm, meets his gaze with a warm smile so soft it feels cruel.

Even on his meanest days, Dream wouldn't pretend to be all buddy-buddy with his food.

Or, Dream supposes he isn't Philza's food, because there's a law and all.

Which, now that he remembers, makes Dream feel even stupider for snarling like that.

Not that snarling would have even deterred Philza if the God did want to eat him, but he doesn't and that's even worse.

Philza's going to have to punish him for that, definitely. The only thing worse than weakness was disrespect, and Dream had successfully nailed both of those at the same time.

He makes himself settle, in his code and in his skin, and he takes a focused breath.

"You're alright, mate," Philza says, eyes gentle.

He's probably lying, but it doesn't matter if he's lying or not because Dream has to pretend like he believes the man unless he wants his punishment to be worse.

"I'm alright," Dream agrees like a distorted echo, doing his best to keep his hands from curling defensively.

The other two, who must have been walking ahead-- leaving him with the monster, abandoning him, betraying him --have circled back around.

They seem surprised to see him awake, and something churns in Dream's gut. Maybe he needs to go back to sleep, to let them do whatever they want to him while he can't fight.

"Are you okay?" Foolish, his brother who would never hurt him but would let the man who hit him hard enough to bruise his face sickly hold him, asks.

Dream, who can't afford to tell the truth, says, "I'm okay."

He's shaking, fine trembles in his arms and his legs, and he tries to tug his code into settling his bones but it doesn't work.

Technoblade, who made a vow and still left him with the enemy, meets his gaze calmly. The betrayal locks something into place in his chest and the worst of the trembling dies as he fights a scowl off his face.

"I thought you were asleep," Foolish says.

Dream, a bit too snappish, replies, "I was."

He barely holds back a flinch at the open surprise on his brother's face.

Philza picks up where the silence leaves off.

"He woke up a bit earlier than I expected," he says to Foolish, watching Dream with an unusual gleam to his gaze. Fortunately, the Old God doesn't seem to have noticed Dream's thrumming fear, or his snappish ire.

Foolish hums, but makes no move to approach either of them.

Dream tries not to let it hurt.

It's not like him coming up to Dream's side would be a good thing; he and Technoblade both made it abundantly clear that their promises were entirely empty. His attachments to them were just weaknesses waiting to be exploited and the moment they'd no longer needed to trick him into complacency, they'd left him. Alone.

Before Dream can get too caught up in his head and his code, Philza says, "We need to talk, mate."

Dream wants to scream. He wants to run further than he could ever hope to teleport, with the wind in his hair and the grass at his feet. He wants to rip his claws through the thick of the man's throat, to hiss and snarl and spit. He wants to tell Philza that they can talk in hell once Dream kills them both.

"Okay," Dream says instead, because he can't afford to do anything else.

Philza blinks, his eyebrows crouching up to his hairline. "Okay?"

Dream swallows the curses that crawl up his throat unbidden. His heart beats beneath his ribs, a twitch so soft he can barely feel himself alive. "If you want."

Philza frowns, his lips twitching down and his eyes narrowing contemplative.

Dream tries not to flinch. He isn't sure he succeeds.

---

Foolish is the one to think up the trade, shuffling off with Technoblade to watch their exchange from the sidelines.

Dream's hurt for a second, upset that his best friend and his brother would leave him to do this on his own, but he shoves all that aside and lets his focus narrow on him and the Old God and the deal between them.

The rules are simple: Dream will ask a question and Philza has to tell the truth, and then Philza will ask a question and Dream will have to tell the truth.

Dream gets the idea; it's supposed to make him think that they're on even footing during the "not an interrogation" interrogation. The only problem is, Philza doesn't have to worry about the punishment for lying, and there's no way he'd actually tell Dream the truth.

But…he does.

The Old God even opens his code up a bit, just enough for Dream to slither through and figure out that he's telling the truth when he promises not to lie to Dream.

"I might not be able to answer everything," Philza warns as he closes his code again, "but I won't lie to you."

Dream nods resolutely. "Me too."

He makes Philza shake his hand like grownups do and calls dibs on asking first.

"What did you do to me?" Dream asks, his shoulders hitched but expression steeled as he bravely continues, "Why was I asleep?"

He knows the Old God did something, after the red-hot rage never came and Dream floated away from his body.

Philza says easily, truth and all, "Sometimes when young Gods don't spend enough time doing it, they can get confused and a little lost in it."

Dream isn't a God, but he's figured out by now that it's a pointless battle to try to correct them. Besides, their conviction about it might be what gives him just enough leeway to keep himself in one piece. So, Dream keeps his mouth shut.

Then, after a tense heartbeat, Philza asks, "When was the last time you were Anchored, Dream?"

Dream blinks.

"The last time I was what?"

Philza's shoulders twitch stiff for a second, his shadow eerily still and tense, before relaxing. "Ah, yeah, linguistical differences. Anchoring's the technical term for tetherment, or a settling link."

Then, at Dream's blank expression, Philza tries, "When another God grabs your Link Point at the back of your neck to thread their emotions to you?"

While Dream's never heard of a Link Point before, he knows what the God's talking about. He nods.

Philza seems relieved.

"I'm worried you haven't done it enough, and that could be why you had such a strong reaction. When's the last time you were Anchored, mate?"

That's the Old God's question, said again. Dream didn't answer the first time even though he promised he would, but Philza doesn't seem too upset about having to wait and explain.

Dream doesn't consider lying for more than a second. He wouldn't. He shook on it, and promised, and--unlike some people--Dream's a man of his word.

"It was before the server," Dream says honestly, looking at the ground around his shoes, "Maybe a year ago or so. It…it wasn't like what you did."

It's silent for a beat too long so Dream looks up, catching the pained expression on Philza's face.

"What was it like?" Foolish asks when the silence drags on, reminding Dream that he and Philza had an audience.

"It, um…" Dream swallows, but admits in a quiet voice, "It was horrible. I'm glad I never had to do it before then."

"What?" Technoblade asks flatly, his expression pinched in anger.

Dream flinches.

"You've only done it once before!?" Technoblade asks through gritted teeth.

"Techno," Philza warns, " take a breath."

"But it's important!" Technoblade insists and Dream swallows nervously.

He turns to the Old God for the dreaded confirmation; he'd rather never have to do that again, though it was kind of nice when Philza did it.

"It's important for growing Gods--" Then, with a pointed look before Dream could consider protesting, "--and Admins--to spend enough time Anchored. But it shouldn't be terrible, mate. Anchoring is supposed to calm you down. It should be like what happened earlier, but not as intense."

Dream frowns. "But…what if you're--the other God is angry?"

"You'd have to try really hard to get aggression across the Anchor," Philza says, "it wasn't built for that kind of thing, mate."

After a moment of stunned silence, and Dream staring at them with wide eyes, Foolish asks, "Did someone use the Anchor to hurt you?"

Dream looks away.

He can't lie, but he's not sure he's ready to tell the truth either.

Chapter Text

Dream can't breathe.

His lungs contract and expand at even intervals like they should, but fear grips him by the throat, a crushing hold on his windpipe.

He opens his mouth to tell the truth and all that comes out is a choked rasp.

He means to keep his word, he really does, but the words shrivel and die like smothered embers before they leave his lips to kiss the air.

It's only by the grace of the Universe that Philza doesn't seem inclined to push. In fact, he and Foolish absurdly seem content to give him space--literally and metaphorically, keeping their hands far from him and their words between each other--as they finish the final dregs of their journey.

Dream slept through most of the extra-quick travel, time swept aside as they walked the ground and sky, but he's sure the Old God's house in the snow can't be far now.

He takes advantage of the newfound space and keeps ahead of the other two, setting the pace for the group. Even when he starts to lag a bit, his brother and the Old God keep a distance from him.

Technoblade seems caught between the two points, drifting to the front of the group to share his silence with Dream and occasionally falling back to the other two.

None of that's particularly surprising, beyond the fact that they're letting him avoid them at all.

Then again, they're sure to pry the words from him eventually and it's not like Dream could run from them. Or, he could, but he wouldn't find himself far before rough hands caught him and held him still.

Dream tries not to think about it.

Predictably, he isn't very successful.

He's lucky, then, that there isn't much time for him to linger in his thoughts before he spots the sloping roof of Philza's Arctic cabin over the treetops ahead.

They make their way through the snow, Dream's shoes distinctly not made for snow. His toes are ice cubes by the time they make it to the front door.

Technoblade shoves his key into the lock and twists, pushing the door open before heading inside to the warmth of the still-burning hearth.

Dream stills, an icy chill much colder than the one in the air gripping him in place at the threshold even after Foolish has kicked his boots off in the entryway and followed in Technoblade's stead, trusting Dream to behave.

Dream swallows nervously, a far-to-familiar fine tremble in his hands, and does his best to remind himself that running is probably one of the worst things he could do right now. It won't fix anything; honestly, it would only make everything much, much worse.

And so, when the Old God closes the distance between them to let a heavy hand rest on his shoulder, Dream buries a flinch and lets the man guide him into the cabin.

---

Dream drifts, swallowed by a darkness speckled with color and warmth, until he settles back into his bones and opens his eyes to the soft light of a lantern hanging from sprucewood logs.

Waking up in the Arctic is a shock, but only for the moments it takes for Dream's mind to whir itself awake and for him to remember.

It almost feels impossible, that everything that's happened--everything that's gone wrong and ruined what he had here in his world--took only a day.

His conversation with Foolish, when everything began to spiral out of his control, feels like it happened a lifetime ago. Teleporting Techno away from the looming Old God feels like it happened so long ago it was only a dream.

But it was just yesterday, and his head hurts when he tries to remind himself that.

He takes a breath, taking stock of the room around him, the bed the Old God had graciously allowed him to rest in.

They hadn't pushed him any more in the cabin than they had during the last of their journey, content to let him linger like a bad ache from an old wound.

They'd let him rest, Foolish pulling him in for a bone-crushing hug that Dream was quick to return in full.

And, now, he was holed up in one of the guest rooms in the cabin of a God so ancient he could probably snap Dream in two.

Philza wouldn't, though. He was a merciful God.

Hopefully, that mercy would extend past whenever Dream inevitably found himself facing punishment.

Dream takes a breath. Then another.

Finally, with all the bravery that could fit into his tiny bones, Dream pulls himself out of bed and walks out to face the day. Well, after making the bed, of course; he knows how to be a good houseguest.

---

To say that Dream is confused would be an understatement.

When Dream walked out into the warmly-lit sitting room, he'd been barely able to hide the shake in his hands. But, instead of asking him then--making him spill his story like fresh blood on stone--Philza and Foolish had handed him a coat and pointed him to a pair of boots before shooing him and Technoblade outside.

"Go play," Foolish had said.

Technoblade, still a bit groggy, had immediately protested the new task. Vehemently.

Philza had just sighed, smiled, and said, "We need to figure out some grown-up stuff, Tech. You'd just be bored."

Technoblade, smelling weakness from a mile away, perked up and pointed at Foolish accusatorily, saying, "He's not a grown-up yet! And I don't want to go outside. It's cold and we'll be alone."

Foolish had almost let them stay in at that, turning to the Old God and rationalizing, "They won't really be supervised. What if something happens?"

Philza had nodded, a mischievous glint to his grin. "Alright, that's a fair point. I think I have the perfect solution for this."

The solution's name, apparently, was Steve.

Dream had never seen someone turn from belligerent to excited so quickly in his life. Technoblade really, really liked Steve, as it turned out.

Still--

"Does a polar bear really count as 'adult supervision'?" Dream asks skeptically.

Technically, Steve was an adult polar bear, but the whole thing was…a little confusing. Or, a lot confusing, actually.

Technoblade snorts.

"Steve would kill anything that tried to come near us," he says, something like pride in his voice. The fuzzy polar bear, settled on his rump in the snow and clearly a few moments from falling asleep, huffs a breath as Techno wiggles onto his lap.

Dream stills.

"Are you sure that's safe?" he asks. Pretty much every polar bear he'd ever seen was only soft and fuzzy while you were a good distance away. Once you closed that gap, the fuzzballs tended to have teeth.

Very sharp teeth.

"It's fine," Techno dismisses, settling in to get comfortable. Then, making a weird expression, he demands, "Get over here."

Dream swallows, watching the bear nervously. "Are you sure?"

"You're shaking," Techno says, "Steve's warm. Besides, there's plenty of room."

That isn't exactly Dream's biggest concern with the situation, but he has to appreciate Technobalde's practicality even as he finds himself shaking in his boots as the massive bear sniffs his face.

Steve settles back and Techno twitches a smile. "He likes you."

"Oh," Dream says, a bit breathlessly, "...that's good."

He's not sure what he would have done if Steve hadn't liked him, if he'd have even been able to do anything at all.

Either way, Techno tugs him down against the soft fur of the bear and Dream slowly settles back into the weirdest sort-of-hug of his life.

---

It's quiet for a while, Steve keeping half an eye on them when they finally pulled away to chuck ice balls at each other from behind their makeshift bases.

Or, they were chucking ice balls at each other until one of Techno's got to close to the bear and Steve grumpily lumbered up and over, sitting right atop his arsenal and probably squishing it to bits.

"Steve, come on," Techno complains, "It didn't even hit you."

Dream bets Steve doesn't even open his eyes, even as Techno pokes at him exasperatedly. He could go over and help, but he'd be leaving his own arsenal undefended and he knows that Technoblde is nothing if not an opportunist.

He'd be done for in a heartbeat and, honestly, it's kind of nice to take a couple minutes to himself behind his barrier.

If he thinks about it, he hasn't really been left alone at all since before yesterday.

It makes sense, considering he did sort of run away with Technoblade. He's a little surprised they didn't lock him in a room inside the house for that.

They still could and, Dream bets that with two powerful Gods they could keep him there for as long as they wanted to.

Dream's chest tightens and he wrings his hands.

He peers over his snow wall to see Technoblade still grumbling and trying to get Steve to move. Steve, for his part, seems completely unbothered.

Dream breathes a laugh. Unstoppable force, meet immovable object.

His humor is quick to die, though, an ember suffocated in the snow.

Behind him, the treeline beckons. The spruce sings, urging him to take shelter, to run again, to go faster, farther.

His code itches to take him somewhere else, somewhere safe.

But, the reality is, nowhere would be safe. He'd have to leave the server if he really wanted to get away, and out there he'd be the furthest thing from safe.

So, even if he ran as fast as he could and hid better than anyone else ever, he'd still be found eventually. The longer it took, the worse his punishment would be.

It wouldn't be worth it to run. The only thing he can do now is keep his head down and do what he's told.

Dream's never been particularly good at any of that, obviously, but what other choice does he have?

Philza has been merciful. Besides, Technoblade's vow might be as moldable as clay, but he doubts his friend would let him get hurt too badly.

Either way, worrying about it will only make it come quicker, in his experience.

So, Dream does his best to put it out of his mind as he winds up an iceball to nail Technoblade right in the back of his head as he pokes the bear irritably.

The game is on.

---

Dream does not , in fact, nail Technoblade right in the back of the head. Instead, his ice ball collides with Steve's head, the polar bear opening one eye to look at Dream. Steve pulls himself standing, a looming figure even from as far as Dream is, and Dream squeaks, ducking back behind his barrier.

Technoblade cheers as his supply of iceballs is revealed to somehow have avoided being squashed to shit, but Dream is too busy reevaluating every life choice he's ever made as the massive creature lumbers toward him.

Dream abandons his base, his feet sliding around inside Wilbur's ill-fitting boots as he scrambles away from Steve.

Technoblade lobs an iceball in his direction and Dream hisses, "Cut it out! Your bear's trying to kill me!"

Technoblade, mercifully, does not throw another iceball as Dream hides behind his barrier, Steve having turned around to come back to them.

"He's not my bear," Techno points out but, again, that's not really the part he's worried about.

Steve stops short of them, Dream practically cowering behind Techno.

Technically, since it's his server, he probably could make Steve leave them alone, but Steve's his own bear and Dream would probably rather be mauled than be mean to one of the animals on his server.

Technoblade seems confused by Dream's sudden reluctance to be next to the massive death machine and points out, "You were fine right next to him for like an hour."

"Yeah, when he was lying down!" Dream says, a little hysterically, "Not when he was running at me! He's trying to eat me! You have to protect me, Techno!"

Technoblade sighs exasperatedly but valiantly picks up another iceball.

"Steve," Techno warns, quickly stepping into his role with a vicious grin, "another step will be an act of war."

Steve, who has clearly had to deal with Technoblade for a lot longer than Dream has, takes a single pointed step forward.

Techno grins. They pelt the beast with iceballs, which seem to be entirely inconsequential to Steve, and the bear gives a mighty roar that sends crows flying from the trees.

Dream might have missed the mark on Techno, but the game is, indeed, on.

Chapter Text

Dream falls back into the soft snow, his heart hammering in his chest as he tries to catch his breath.

Technoblade, who is a freak of nature no one should ever be compared to ever, is completely fine as he watches Dream dispassionately. He won their race by a million years.

Dream missed when they were ganging up on Steve, but apparently even the massive bear could only take so many iceballs before he flopped over to watch them from atop the remains of their newly-fortified snow base.

Dream didn't have an iceball's chance in hell at winning the race against Technoblade in his own literal backyard.

Stupid snow. Stupid Wilbur with his stupid boots.

Actually, now that he thinks about it--

"Where is Wilbur?" Dream asks, "I thought he was back on server again, but I haven't seen him at all since we got here."

"Don't you know?" Technoblade asks, sounding weirdly bitter, "It's Ghostbur now."

"...Ghostbur? Is that some kind of pun?" Dream jokes, but he stops short at the look on his friend's face. "Are you guys okay?"

Techno scowls.

"He thinks that just because he got his form powers first, he's better than me now," he admits angrily, crossing his arms.

"Well, he's not," Dream says, ignoring the bits he doesn't understand to focus on the one he definitely does, "You're Technoblade. You're the best."

It's as true as the server's sky is blue, but it doesn't seem to make Techno any happier to have heard it. He just scowls deeper, and it's like Dream's opened Pandora's Box-thing.

"That's what Tommy said too, but he's only ever hanging out with him now! Like, just because I can't go through walls he thinks I'm not even worth being around anymore! Everybody's just using me! And now that Wilbur's better they're all just leaving!"

"Wilbur can go through walls!?" Dream asks, wide eyes, but he quickly shuts his trap at the hurt look on Techno's face.

He tries to think of what to say, what he might want to hear if he were Technoblade. He doesn't know though, because he's never been Technoblade, so he just says, "I'm not leaving."

Technoblade scoffs. "You would. You're just scared of my dad."

Dream pauses. "I'm not leaving you," he amends.

"You're still leaving, though," Technoblade points out, "It's like I'm just some thing for people to have when they want and then everybody gets upset when I'm not a fan of that. Tommy wants to spar, or Wilbur wants me to help him build something, or somebody needs me to fight off the mobs, or--or--or…"

Technoblade sits down in the snow angrily before lying back next to Dream to look at the sky, snow clumps melting in his hair. He groans, loud and frustrated, and admits, "I don't want them to forget about me. Wilbur--he's got Quackity and Niki, and Tommy has Ranboo and Tubbo, and I'm just…kind of here."

"What about Skeppy?" Dream tries, remembering something about that.

Techno rolls his eyes. "Skeppy's like twenty! He's cool, but he's a grown-up. I can't have all my friends be Skeppy, my dad, and you. That's kind of cringe."

"You're too pog to be cringe," Dream says without thinking about it, before wincing. Tommy has ruined the way everyone on the server talks, Dream swears.

"Still," Technoblade says with a frown.

They lie like that, watching the sky above them while the silence settles over them like a blanket for a while.

Then, when curiosity finally gets the better of him, Dream asks, "What even is a form power?"

Technoblade turns his head to look at him. "Oh. Yeah. Well, you get your form power after you get your domain power."

Then, at Dream's still-confused look, he explains, "Like Wilbur being the God of music and geography? Those are his domains. And like me being the God of battles. And also potatoes."

"…is the 'Blood God' for the battles or for the potatoes?"

Technoblade just smirks, pulling himself up into a criss-cross seat, and says solemnly, "Some secrets are better left untold."

Dream scoffs, but pulls himself up to match and checks, "So you get your form power after your domain power?"

Technoblade hums his assent and Dream asks curiously, "So what's yours then?"

Techno rolls his eyes. "I told you earlier; I don't have one yet."

"But why not?"

Technoblade sighs. "I was supposed to get mine right after Phil helped Wilbur get his."

"Wait, wait, wait," Dream says, "What do you mean Phil helped? Like, he gave Wil powers? Gods can do that?"

"What? Of course not," Techno says, making a face, "No, older Gods just help you connect with your abilities if they think you're ready. So, Phil helped Wilbur connect to his."

Dream hums, then turns to his friend. "So why didn't you get yours?"

A moment of silence stretches between them, pulling longer until Techno finally breaks it.

"I…" He looks to the ground, like he's embarrassed. "I started Unsettling."

Dream blinks. "What--what's Unsettling?"

"Oh," Techno says, looking at him with a weird expression, "Right."

Dream can practically hear him thinking as Techno considers him for a moment.

"It's--when you get older--" Technoblade huffs, "This is kind of hard to explain."

"Oh," Dream says, "Sorry."

"No, just…give me a second. I've never had to teach anybody this before."

Dream lets Technoblade gather his thoughts until he finally explains, "So Gods--and Admins--get stronger when you get older. And your code starts to get bigger because it's trying to decide what it wants you to be, so it's harder to keep it inside of you. That's why all the really important stuff is inside our cores, but sometimes the other stuff spills out, especially since we're younger still.

"But once your code gets too big, you Settle and you get your domains. Technically, I have three because I made a world once, but I didn't know what I was doing and I never added any players before I lost it."

Dream blinks. "Admins have domains too?"

"Well, only if you're a--" Technoblade makes a face. "If you're an Admins and you made your world, you have that world as a domain. And when you get your domains, you Settle. If you Unsettle, that means you're losing your connection to your domains and some of your important code stops being in your core, so you're not centered anymore."

"What happens if that happens?"

"You start glitching, and you get really upset," Technoblade explains, "If you're an Admin and you Unsettle, your whole world could fall apart. That's what happened to mine, right after I settled."

At Dream's distraught face, Techno reassures him, "It wasn't bad, since I'd only just Settled. The longer it's been since you first Settled, the harder it is if you Unsettle and the longer it takes to get Resettled."

Dream perks up, relieved to at least have a solution to this new and horrifying possibility, and asks, "How do you Resettle?"

"You mostly just have to calm down and have someone Anchor you," Techno says and, at Dream's startled look, elaborates, "Anchoring helps keep you centered, and Settled. It's supposed to calm you down and stuff, but it also keeps all your important codes in your core."

Dream makes a face and says, "I'm never Unsettling, then."

His friend rolls his eyes as Dream crosses his arms with a huff.

Then, curiously, Dream asks, "Why does someone Unsettle?"

Techno frowns, seeming conflicted. Then, he says, "If it's right after you first Settle, it's usually because you didn't have someone to Anchor you. If it's later, usually something terrible has to happen. You have to be really upset, and unstable."

"And then you'd have to be Anchored to Resettle?" Dream checks and Techno nods.

Dream asks, "How long would that take?"

"Six weeks," Techno says without hesitation and Dream blinks.

Then, with pieces clicking together in his mind, Dream hesitantly asks, "Is that…was Wilbur Unsettling? Is that why he left the server?"

Techno nods and Dream's heart sinks in his chest. He knows Wilbur Unsettling wasn't his fault , but he probably didn't make it any better, egging him on all the time.

Then, with a realization like a blow to the chest, Dream asks breathlessly, "Was Tommy Unsettling?"

Techno narrows his eyes, his face twisting like he's bitten into something sour at just the reminder of his brother's Exile.

"Tommy hasn't Settled yet, so he can't Unsettle," Techno says, "But if he had been Settled, he probably could have."

Dream lets the weight of it sit on his chest, and it feels like it's going to crush him underneath.

"I really am the bad guy, huh?" Dream asks, a bit shell-shocked.

His friend blinks. "It's not as simple as that," Techno says, which really isn't the reassurance he probably thinks it is.

Then, quieter, he asks, "Why did you do it?"

When Dream looks up, Techno's quick to clarify, "I know he was exiled from L'manburg because he burned down George's house, and because of the war, but…why did you do that stuff in Logstedshire?"

Dream averts his eyes and shrugs, swallowing around the stone in his throat. "They made him the bad guy. Everybody was getting mad at him all the time so I figured I could take him somewhere else so they could calm down and I could teach him how to be good."

"By blowing up all his stuff?" Technoblade asks. It's not accusatory, but Dream still feels it twist like knives under his skin.

"I was just trying to help him," Dream says helplessly, "I thought we were friends."

"Friends don't blow up each other's things," Techno says flatly and Dream feels tears burn behind his eyes.

"Well, I know that now ," he snaps, "But what else was I supposed to do? Just let him piss everyone off until he gets hurt?"

Dream can feel his friend stiffen beside him. "Why would Tommy get hurt?"

"Because he's pissing people off!" Dream says, "And now it's even worse! He's a baby God! What if he pissed off an Admin!?"

"Then they'd be pissed," Techno says, like Dream's being stupid and he's on the verge of angry himself.

"That's not how it works!" Dream snaps.

Technoblade scowls, his fists curling. He opens his mouth like he's getting ready to shout, but the words seem to die on his tongue.

Suddenly, his expression twists into one Dream can't really place and he asks, flatly and faintly hesitant, "How does it work, then?"

Dream takes a breath, slow and deliberate, and lets some of the building tension dissipate.

"You listen to Admins," Dream explains, pulling his knees up to his chest, "You've got to, right? I mean, it's better if you don't have to rely on them, but they'll hold anything over you that they can, even if you're a stranger. They'll take everything from you. And if you don't figure out how to get by without it, you'll be done for."

"Did the Admins--" Techno cuts himself off. "Nevermind. What--what happens if you do rely on an Admin."

Dream swallows, his mouth suddenly as dry as a desert.

"They'll keep you safe," Dream says, because they would, "But, it takes a lot of energy to hide you from the Gods. You have to trade them, so they can protect you."

"Trade them…energy?" Techno asks, clearly confused.

Dream takes another careful breath.

"Trade them power," he explains, "I don't know what it's like for Gods--I don't think the Admins ever protect Gods--but the easiest way is to just let them take it from your core."

Techno freezes, still like something dangerous is close. His eyes are wide and his lungs barely move enough for him to be breathing.

"Your core?" he asks, something like horror in his voice.

"It doesn't hurt," Dream assures him, "They can streamline it too, so you don't have to open your code every time. It connects them to it so you don't even really feel it."

Techno chokes. "I--they make you--"

"They don't make you," Dream cuts him off, "You just trade them, so they protect you."

Technoblade takes a careful breath of his own and asks, his voice quieter than Dream's ever heard, "Do you trust me?"

Dream stills.

The thing is, he shouldn't. Technoblade's proven that his vow doesn't mean what he claims.

But, he's Dream's best friend, and as much as he'd like to say he could shed attachments like old cloaks…

Dream nods, reluctant and more than a little nervous after Techno's reaction.

His friend gives him a solemn nod back and says, "Then trust Phil, at least for now, with this."

"I can't," Dream breathes, a little hysterically, "Techno, I can't. I can't tell him."

"Okay," Techno agrees, "Then let me."

Dream's heart pounds beneath his ribs, but he meets Techno's gaze head-on and gives a jerky nod. For his friend, he'd do close to anything.

So, moments later, Dream watches the Old God with bated breath and does exactly that, peering nervously from behind Technoblade as his friend breaks the news.