Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a genius plan in Dream’s opinion. He’d struggled to get himself to glitch through the layer of bedrock, risking suffocation for this. And this, hopefully, would work in his favor. With a grin, he looks out onto the flat bedrock surface, listening to the George, Bad, and Sapnap grumble about how he was being annoying and that he should step through already and accept his defeat.

He rolled his eyes.

Honestly, those four should know better by now.

Well, it wasn’t as if they didn’t have reason to be confident. They’ve gotten extremely lucky up until this point with crazy good armor and close calls (thought the close calls were a thing that happened pretty regularly.) But to even entertain the thought that he would be obedient and step out like that?

Hah.

Dream could hear their taunts from his communicator, and he answers back with easy commentary, busy as he builds the second nether portal. He can already imagine the faces of disbelief that would paint his friends faces with his latest 9000 IQ stunt, as they’ve taken to calling these sorts of moments.

“I’ll come out,” Dream ‘concedes’ with a huff. “Just make sure that you’re nowhere near the portal.”

“Okay, of course,” Bad replies, sarcasm tinting his words. “Like, we’re not actually anywhere near the portals. You can come out.” And as if he couldn’t make it more obvious- “No, we’re like 500 blocks away.”

Dream, finally done with the last minute construction, almost barks a laugh at the obvious lie. Really, what could he do but call the man out on it?

“You’re probably right next to it.” Bad’s laugh is smothered, but still audible.

“N-no, we’re not.”

 “You’re probably- you’re probably literally standing next to it.”

Digging out a flint and steel from his pockets, he lights the portal. The fire turning from red to a swirling, mesmerizing purple. Listening to them trying to convince him, it takes almost all he has to hold in the laugh as he says “okay… I’m coming out.”

The clinking of armor on the other side gives him the image of four figures, standing in front of a useless portal, waiting fruitlessly for him to step through as they ready their weapons. It’s entirely too amusing, really.

“I’m gonna come out~”

He steps out into sand.

“We are so far away, it’s crazy how far we are-”Bad tries once more, and yeah. It really is crazy how far away they probably are from him. The beauty of unrealized double meanings- unrivaled in its hilarity. With a laugh, he starts walking towards some random spiders.

He pulls up his coordinates, with a victorious smirk, cutting off whatever else the four were going to say next.

“I’m at 1450, -20.”

For a single moment, there’s silence on both ends of the line. A slight rustle as one of them probably raised their communicators to check just where they stood.

“Wait, there’s no way,” Bad says in disbelief, and Dream has seen his confused face enough to know he was probably squinting down at the numbers that definitely didn’t match the ones Dream had just freely given. Dream laughs, knowing the realization would hit in 3…

Another rustle.

2…

And then came the panic.

1.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sapnap says. “He’s actually in the Overworld!”

The jumble of voices as they rush to check the compasses they all held.

“Track him, track him, track him!” Sapnap urges.

“Wait, what? He’s like 800 blocks away!”

“How?”

“How did he get that far?”

“Did he build another portal?”

“He had to have.”

“You said -20?”

“Yeah-”

Waving off the shouting and confused questions, Dream decides to finally speak up, tapering off in his laughter.

“I’m ready to fight. Come and fight me.” Dream smirks. “I’m ready to fight you.”

“That’s like 800 blocks away,” Bad repeats once more, exhaustion coloring his voice as the realization of what they had to do hit him. “Are you kidding me?”

“Yeah, come fight me.” He swings his diamond axe around with vigor. “Come fight me, I’ll be waiting.”

The other four react accordingly, voices one on top of the other as they start making their way towards him, but Bad, like the dad of the group, speaks over them.

“So then, what else could he have gotten that he could kill us?” Silence as the other three hunters pause to think, because that was the question wasn’t it. They'd all gained enchanted armor, while Dream had been mostly busy in the nether with barely enough time to really obtain much in the way of weaponry and armor like theirs. “Is there anything he could have?”

“One thing,” Dream can’t help but answer. “Confidence.”

“Confidence?” Bad scoffs playfully. “Okay-“

“Ohh.” And the sass in Sapnaps response really just makes it all the better honestly.

“Okay that’s it, you’re going down mister.”

Dream looks up at the sky with another laugh. God help him, these bunch are just so entertaining. What would he do without them? He waits, listening to the background commentary as they sprint their way over. Soon enough, he hears-

“Ooh, there’s a portal! I see it, I see it.”

He zones out the rest of the probably hilarious commentary they continue to provide. He can check back later in the recordings if he wants to. For now, he looks around him, trying to see if he could spot the ragtag bunch.

And there they are in all their glory, running straight for him like maniacs, jumping into the river between them in a desperate attempt to reach him faster.

“Nevermind, I-I don’t want to fight anymore,” Dream says, walking backwards into the portal. “I don’t want to fight anymore!” he repeats, voice raising an octave.

He listens to them screaming at him as the teleportation magic work its charm. Strangely though, it isn’t working nearly as fast as normal, and Dream can feel actual panic rising in him as they close in on him- but now Dream isn’t sure whether he’s panicking at them, or panicking at the suddenly malfunctioning portal. Maybe making a portal on top of nether was a bad idea after all.

“Wait guys-“

Dream’s pretty sure something must have shown on his face despite the mask because all of a sudden Bad, Sapnap and George are speeding up- his best friends since however many years ago. He can’t blame Antfrost for not realizing that whatever was happening was now real- he hasn’t hunted with them long enough to realize the switch.

Before he teleports, a hand lands on his arms and-

They fall.

Dream wakes up to the strange taste and feeling of grass in his mouth. It’s not exactly the ideal way to wake up, though it’s not the first time it’s happened. The Manhunts last days after all, and if he doesn’t have a bed, well. You don’t need a bed to sleep.

With a slightly practiced routine, Dream pushes himself up, strangely sore, and spits out the earthy greenery invading his lips. But the feeling of arms sliding down and off him register, and in a half a second, he’s standing up right, staring down at the people who he calls his best friends. His best friends who look just as worse for the wear as he feels.

“What- what the fuck?”

As sudden as a dam cracking under pressure, the memories wash over him. The playful looks as they chased him turning to confusion, then horror. The sinking feeling in his gut when the teleportation doesn’t work as it’s supposed to, and the nausea that slammed into him when they started falling (falling? Why falling? They were supposed to land-)

The distant memories of a bedrock floor.

And oh fuck. Did Dream break the server? His own server? By trying to put a portal on top of the Nether, a place which shouldn’t have existed at all?

George, Sapnap, Bad. Why weren’t they waking up? They should have woken up already. Are they... are they even breathing?

“George? Pandas?” he tries, going to kneel next to them and giving them a soft, too soft pat on the cheek. “Bad?” His voice cracks, but he couldn’t care less because his friends are-

“Dream?” a groggy voice interrupts his spiraling panic. “Dream, what the hell is going on.”

Before another question could be asked, Sapnap is tackled back into the grass, groaning at the sudden loss of breath. “What the fuck?” Sapnap opens his eyes at the feeling of warm tears trailing down his neck. More awake, he puts a hand on the green hood of Dream’s sweater, twitching at the feeling of the other shaking.

“Dream,” Sapnap whispers, dragging the both of them up into a seated position. “Dream, why are you crying? Wait, shit, are you okay? What do I- Bad’s usually the guy to go for this, I don’t-“

 Sapnap wraps his arms around him, and Dream practically crawls into his lap.

“I- I thought you-“

“Hey no, look, I’m fine, okay?” In a moment of indecision, he pushes Dream’s head against his chest. “You could, you can hear my heartbeat, right? I’m fine. I’m alive. Besides, if I died, I’m pretty sure I would have respawned anyways.”

Dream wants to tell him that not all worlds allowed for respawning. That if you died in some servers, all they left were bodies. That he had no idea where they were or if they could leave because he was too busy wondering if he’d just killed the people he’d come to consider family. Instead, he takes this moment of reprieve to listen to the steady, if slightly elevated thumping in Sapnap’s chest.

“What the hell is with this massive headache?”

Sapnap looked up to see George sitting up with a hand to his head, face scrunched in obvious pain and his goggles skewed towards the left. He was so obviously disoriented that Sapnap couldn’t help but snort.

“Stop laughing at my pain Snapmap.”

“I told you to stop calling me that-“

“Snapmap, Snapmap, Snapmap. What are you going to do about it?”

“I’ll-“

“Can you muffins quiet down?” Bad interrupts their very important (childish) argument, yawning and stretching out. “I have a migraine- please.” And like scolded children, they do as he asks, though they don’t hesitate to stick their tongues out at each other in playful spite.

After a moment spent in silence, Bad finally blinks with awareness at Sapnap and George and-

“Oh muffins.” George looks at Bad, then follows his eyes to-

“Dream?”

Sapnap remembers just who he had in his arms, and slowly unraveled them, giving way to Dream, whose mask had fallen off at some point, teary-eyed and asleep. With gentle hands, he strokes the Blonde’s hair back. He’d almost forgotten Dream had decided to grow his hair out long enough to tie it into a small bun.

“What happened to him?” George asks, forgetting about the petty argument. “Is he alright?”

Bad, who quickly made his way over to the blonde, reaches out a hand to press against his neck with a quiet sigh of relief, before trailing his way up to wipe at a stray tear and up to his forehead. Sapnap, still as a rock, whispers quietly.

“Is he okay?”

“Don’t worry you muffins. He’s perfectly fine.” George huffs in relief before standing and making his way over to the rest of his friends, and Sapnap relaxes, tension leaving his shoulders. He resumes stroking through wavy blonde strands. “It looks like he’s exhausted, but with enough rest, he’ll be alright.”

“Okay. Right, that’s great. But do any of you know where we are?” George asks voice unusually quiet.

Bad and Sapnap share a look with each other, then down at the figure sleeping in the latter’s lap, and then at George. It’s clear none of them have a single clue as to what happened, and the only one that may have some sort of explanation is currently dead to the world, snoring softly away in Sapnap's lap. 

“Right, we could hash this out later, you muffin heads.” Bad looks up at the rapidly darkening sky. “Let’s go back to the basics for now. We’re in the middle of a forest with no way out and it’s almost night. That means mobs, and that means we’re going to need some sort of shelter.”

“I can go get some wood and dirt. We’re in a forest, and it’ll be a quick shelter anyways,” George says, making his way to a nearby tree. “Sapnap, go find some coal to make some torches. We don’t need mobs spawning on us.” For a minute, the other looks ready to argue about being told what to do, but both of them turn to Dream, watching him shuffle uncomfortably in his sleep.

He sighs.

“I’ll go and try to find some wool too.”

Bad nods to both of them, smiling.

“I’ll keep an eye on this muffin here, and make sure he stays safe. We can’t afford to get sick right now after all.” With that, Sapnap turns Dream over to Bad, resting the blondes head in the hybrid’s lap. With a groan, he stretches his legs and arms out.

“Wow, Bad, what a slacker,” Sapnap laughs suddenly. “Not doing anything and using Dream as an excuse?”

“What? No! Of course not Sapnap-“

George catches on with a snicker.

“BadBoyHalo, how could you? Treating us like we're your little bitches.” George covered his mouth dramatically. “How evil could you get?”

“Oh my goodness, language!”

They both guffaw as they go their separate ways to get the items needed, leaving Bad to splutter while trying not to wake Dream up.

“You! You- you muffin heads!”

He shakes his head in mock despair and turns on his communicator to listen to their idle humming as they work.

In complete honesty, he can’t help but feel grateful to the two, because Bad knows what they’re doing. Joking as if nothing was wrong and allowing him a sense of normalcy in the confusion. He appreciates it, really- if not for the crude ways they delivered it.

With a sigh, he positions both himself and Dream more comfortably, resting his hand in the younger man’s forehead- an easy way to monitor him- while keeping an eye out for any mobs nearby. The future might be looking a little bleak at the moment, but he was sure they’d get through it, whatever this was.

Bad is sure of it.

Chapter Text

Tommy wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he decided to go traveling deeper into the woods. Maybe he wanted the illusion of privacy for however long he could have it. Away from Dream and his pseudo protection and friendship. Just away. From everything.

He definitely wasn’t expecting this shitty little thing one could just barely call a shelter in the middle of nowhere, barely even 3 blocks wide with a single torch above the crude looking door.

Now, Tommy considers himself smart. He’s a big man capable of making his own decisions. And to be quite honest, this was probably the best source of entertainment he’s had in what could be considered days. With his sudden (not so sudden) exile, and Dream being the only source of company he’s had, well. It doesn’t take a genius to know he was pretty close to losing it.

So without another thought, Tommy opens the door.

He wasn’t expecting anyone to still be in this trashy thing anyone else would’ve missed at a glance.

That was Tommy’s first mistake.

“Holy shit- what the fuck,” a deep, familiar voice echoes from inside the dimly lit room, groggy with sleep. It was barely a rumble, but it set off something in Tommy that made him unsheathe his sword and point it at the group of people in the center of the beds, barely enough to fit them all.

A head pops out from the end of the right side of the pile, followed by a body.

Was that… was that-

“Guys,” Sapnap- holy shit that’s Sapnap- calls out, an urgency in his voice that begs for the others. “Guys wake up.” When he doesn’t get a response, he tries again, warily staring at the feral looking 16 year old boy. “Guys, wake up, wake up, wake up- come on.”

“Oh my god, Sapnap, shut up,” an unforgettable and undeniably British voice snaps. “Some of us are trying to sleep.” And this irked the other, who angrily throws his pillow at the Brit, though it seems to be somewhat playful in spite of the situation. And Tommy really can’t wrap his mind around what the fuck is happening.

“I swear to god Snapmap I’m going to kill you.” George finally opens his eyes blearily, rubbing away the sleep from them. He turns towards to glare at Sapnap, but snaps to look at the intruder in their shack whose weapon is pointing in their direction. “Oh shit-“

“Who the fuck-“

“I don’t know! Wake them up, George-“

“I’m trying, shut up Snapmap.”

“Well do it faster!”

“Oh my god, help me then you idiot!”

“BAD! BAD WAKE UP!”

“Dream- c’mon Dream I know you’re tired but we need you right now you stupid admin-“

A black figure suddenly snaps upright, looking exhausted and ready to snap.

“CAN YOU MUFFINS GET ANY LOUDER?!”

Tommy is pretty sure he’s getting whiplash from the conversation, and could this mess of voices and screaming even be considered a conversation? He’s regretting even stepping foot into the forest, because now he’s surrounded by last people he wants to see in the server. Sapnap, George- and he’s pretty sure that one is Bad, who looks different here- not that he’s paying much attention to the small details.

More importantly, he’s pretty sure George just said Dream.

Oh, speak of the devil.

“What the hell you guys.”

Tommy can feel his insides freeze at the too-familiar voice of the person who had wormed his way into his life like a parasite. The one who he’s pretty sure is manipulating him, but can’t help but want to be friends with because that’s what manipulation does. The one who comes around every once in a while just to destroy his stuff and push every button he has.

A green hood slowly pushes its way up from under the covers, and Tommy is half prepared for the inevitable, in which Dream either tries to ‘make nice’ with him, or to yell at him to toss his minimal items into a hole again. The other half is just about ready to collapse into a panic attack because he’s raised his sword in their direction. It’s a punishable offence, he’s sure.

He’s made good on his face so far, but it crumbles so fast, he’s not sure what to do when his body doesn’t obey and the sword starts shaking, still stuck pointing at them.

So Tommy wasn’t expecting to come face to face with a- with an actual face.

It occurs to Tommy, distantly, that this is the first time he’s seen Dream’s face, and it’s both exactly how he imagined it, but so different. Blonde hair, strangely shoulder length, crowns his face, making the rest of him look softer. There’s a couple of scars that decorate his face, but none of them serve to make Dream look any harsher.

His eyes are what catch Tommy off guard the most. Twin emeralds stare back at him, exhaustion lurking somewhere behind its depth and are more expressive than he had imagined the other would look. Dream is pretty; pretty in the way one would look at a diamond or a flower and call it pretty. Tommy finds it somewhat unfair.

Dream looks soft- nothing like the monster he’s always made himself out to seem like and Tommy can’t help but hate it.

Hate the fact that Dream looks human.

The light breeze shuts the door with a soft click and interrupts the staring, and he’s suddenly aware of the suffocating silence that had descended upon them as they stared at each other. He’s pretty sure Dream was searching for something in Tommy, just like Tommy had done to him. And judging by the underlying tension in George, Sapnap, and Bad’s shoulders they weren’t sure what to do but stare at the duo.

Then, Dream finally speaks.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Wh-what the fuck?” In surge of anger washes over him as memories flood his mind- of all the times Dream had fucked him over one way or another. Had somehow managed to turn so many people away from him- to turn Tubbo away from him. Of every day when he had come to visit and fool around, just to come back another day to destroy his stuff and wreck him to pieces again.

“What do you mean ‘who the hell are you?’ huh? Y-You don’t remember all the times you would come and- and blow up my stuff for fun? Every time you would-would laugh in my face while you destroyed everything I’ve worked for?” Tommy can’t see or feel anything but a red hot anger that surges through his veins and invades his vision. “Every time you’d pretend to be my friend and make me rely on you? And every single time it worked?”

“You don’t remember how you got me exiled?!”

The anger disappears with the words spat and he’s left with stomach dropping disbelief and the singular, resounding thought of ‘I’ve been forgotten’. Because Tubbo and the rest of them had yet to visit after the initial visits, and despite everything, he’d come to rely on Dream remembering him. Had come to appreciate every second spent with the horrible man because it meant he wasn’t alone. When had he fallen so low?

The sword drops from his shaky grip. He’s barely aware of the way it sinks into the dirt at his feet, because tears are spilling and he doesn’t- Tommy can’t afford to show any sort of weakness in front of Dream of all people. He doesn’t look up when footsteps make their way towards him. Tommy wonders when he had given the man the power to destroy him so thoroughly with just a few words.

Tommy startles harshly when warm arms wrap around him, vision invaded by a too familiar lime green, and struggles against the other weakly.

If he pays attention, he can vaguely hear the other three calling for Dream, saying something along the lines of “-not safe, Dream!” and “You’re going to scare him-“. But something else registers in his mind, when his hands reach up ready to either grab hold or push away, he doesn’t know which. While the shade of green matches, the style of clothing doesn’t- not in the slightest.

The Dream he knows always hesitates to show any ounce of skin- the most being his hands. And even then, the man is known for wearing fingerless gloves. He’s always recognizable from a mile away because of his iconic mask, something he’s never taken off in front of them, and the thick, too-large green hoodie Tommy has never seen him without.

A green hoodie that reaches just below his hips.

This man in front of him, who Tommy is pretty sure is still Dream, is wearing a green, worn out crop top hoodie with a thin crop top turtle neck underneath, exposing his belly in a way he’s sure the Dream he knows wouldn’t be caught dead in. The baggy pants that hangs from his hips is also something Tommy is pretty sure Dream wouldn’t hesitate to burn because the man has been known to be surprisingly picky with his clothes.

And his appearance.

Dirty blonde hair- shoulder length? That’s not something you can grow out in a mere couple of days, and Tommy knows Dream chops it off because he’d told him once it would get in the way with how often he ended up fighting. It was an inconvenience, and Dream doesn’t do inconveniences.

But his mask- his mask was the piece that made the rest fall into place.

Dream has never taken off his mask for anyone but his closest friends, Tommy being no exception. In fact, the only time Tommy had almost caught a glimpse of his face was an accident, and Dream had almost fallen off the edge of the cliff he was on to put his mask back on. He was willing to risk his lives to make sure he wasn’t exposed.

This person covering him from his friends- because that was what he was doing, was making sure that his friends couldn’t see this intruder cry in front of strangers- had approached him with an open face. And while he must have been at least a little bothered without it, he didn’t put it on.

As Tommy said before, he considers himself fairly smart.

And this- this is something even a toddler could put together.

“You’re not Dream,” Tommy mumbles, taking in a shuddering breath. He doesn’t return the embrace, letting his arms hang dead by his sides, but he does release just the slightest bit of tension. “Or at least, you’re- you’re not the Dream I know.” The arms tighten around him.

“I-I don’t know the other- the other me? I don’t know what he did,” this Dream mutters. “But he sounds like an asshole and-and like he needs a fucking beating for what he’s done. I’m sorry for what he did to you, kid.”

“Language!”

The other three must have gotten up at some point, because when Tommy looks up, they’re no longer in the beds, and standing a good couple of feet away from them. Bad looks miffed at the cuss while Sapnap and George groan.

“Oh come on, Bad. They were having a moment,” Sapnap complains, elbowing the hybrid lightly. “Read the mood, man.”

“I get that they’re- they’re helping each other, but he doesn’t have to use such offensive language to do it!”

“Oh my god, Bad. They were having an important moment,” George adds with a roll of his eyes. “Couldn’t you leave it be just once?”

“Just stop using the word!”

“Stop trying,” Dream interrupts with a chuckle. “Bad wouldn’t be Bad if he didn’t try to stop us from saying things like fuck. Or shit. Or-“

“LANGUAGE!”

“Bitch.”

The group all look towards the teen who had been released from Dream. Tommy’s eyes are still puffy, but he looks just a little amused at the sudden commotion. He picks up the sword and sheathes it before any of them could respond.

“Oh my goodness, you’ve already tainted him. Look what you’ve done-”

Dream couldn’t do anything but wheeze, holding his stomach as his body punches the air out of him. Sapnap and George have already started making a game out of how many more cuss words they could say before Bad really explodes, and Dream straightens himself out after one more breathy laugh.

“It looks like you know our names, but what’s yours kid?”

“Name’s Tommy, big man.” Tommy pauses. “And I’m not a kid. I’m a man.”

Dream grins toothily, turning towards the other three who continue to bicker, vile words continuing to spill from Sapnap and George’s lips. Bad looks just about ready to bury the two 6 feet under.

“Looks like you’ll fit right in with us Tommy.”

“OH MY GOSH YOU MUFFINS, LANGUAGE!”

This time, Tommy laughs with them.

Chapter Text

“There’s a lot of things here that probably aren’t the same wherever you came from Big Man.”

Dream pauses in his current work at the moment- in the middle of breaking down another block of dirt from their lovingly dubbed shit-shack. (With some complaint from Bad of course.) Dream knew they would have ended up talking about it sooner or later; about how Dream and his friends ended up so far from home, and just what living there- wherever they are, would mean.

It was to be expected really. If not from Tommy, then from Sapnap who has been eyeing him with poorly concealed worry since they’d cleared up the misunderstandings. Obviously, the moment between them hasn’t been forgotten, and Sapnap is nothing if not stubborn.

“Yeah, I guess we should talk about it,” Dream says after a moment, shaking away the thought, and watches the others gather themselves, a little guiltily when they catch his eyes. None of them have ever been good at eavesdropping.

In a matter of minutes, the rest- George, Bad and Sapnap- have gathered themselves, leaning against the trunks of some dead trees nearby. Tommy stands awkwardly in front of them, sword subconsciously placed between him and Dream and his friends and poised for easy escape. Dream expected the caution. A hug can’t magically fix all lingering problems after all, but his heart still twinges bitterly at the reaction.

Maybe this talk should’ve happened earlier.

“It’s something we were planning on talking about anyways,” Bad says, breaking the tension if only slightly. “So, relax, er, Tommy, was it? Don’t feel bad, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure,” Tommy mutters. His shoulders relax minutely, and Bad beams. “Anyways, I was planning on telling you about the way this server works. I thought I should start with the unbroken- currently unbreakable rule. Proven and all. The life system.”

“What the heck are you talking about?” George cuts in. “You mean like hardcore worlds? One death and you can’t access the world anymore? Or like, being banned from the server?”

 “Wh- what the fuck are you on about? Worlds? Access?” The leather sheathing the sword groans in protest, clenched in Tommy’s shaking hands. And Dream knew it was a possibility, one in a million but still an option. “Fuck no! I mean death. Real death. Everyone has three lives total. No more, no less. And when you die, you die! You turn into a ghost or you- you vanish I guess.”

“What?” Sapnap looks at him in pure disbelief. “You’re- you’re joking right? It shouldn’t be possible. Worlds and servers don’t work that way. There’s hardcore and banning, and some who can code their world’s so nothing can be touched, but real death? That- that isn’t a thing. Is… is it?”

He looks at Bad in frustration and desperation. “I mean, c’mon Bad, he’s joking around, right? Lying?”

But the silence is enough of an answer, and Dream can recognize the grim realization that’s made a home on Bad’s face. Sapnap turns away from him, denial still spilling from his lips, hands flinging up and eyes wild.

“Dream? Come on dude. You don’t really believe in this- this bull-“

“Sapnap, that’s enough.”

“But- But George! They-“

“Sapnap. Look at them.”

He does, helpless eyes swiveling towards his friends.

“And look at Tommy.”

This, they all do. Tommy looks smaller than before, seeming as if he can’t bear to look them in the eyes. There’s underlying frustration and jealousy written in the way he shields himself from their gazes, and Dream knows that Sapnap can see it. He’s always been better at reading emotions.

“This isn’t a joke.” George says with a damning finality. “Is it, Dream?”

They all turn towards him, sans Tommy. His heart shatters at the looks they bear and the newfound weight resting on their shoulders. The way George is paler than before, and the way Sapnap’s hands are shaking, just barely.

“No. It’s not.”

Tommy gives them some time, letting them settle down once more. George and Sapnap are huddled together a little closer, and Dream and Bad stand next to the two in guard-like fashion. Tommy fidgets to himself glancing once or twice at them and occasionally at Dream’s still bare face.

“Why don’t you put your mask back on?” Tommy asks suddenly, uncomfortably, an obvious attempt at redirecting the conversation. “I know it makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it? You keep touching your mask.”

Dream freezes, hand pausing its brushing against the porcelain mask hanging from his hip, frozen like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. It’d always been a habit to brush against the mask to make sure he had it on. It was like fidgeting with a ring or a necklace. It’s a source of comfort that he can’t get rid of and a habit he doesn’t think he can break.

He should probably answer Tommy.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I guess? You, you freaked out when you saw my face- I’m guessing the other me hasn’t taken off his mask at all, the freak.” Tommy chuckles. It must have been one hell of a thing to hear coming from someone who looks and sounds exactly like the person they were shit-talking.

“I guess I don’t want to be anything like him if I have the chance. And if keeping my mask off makes you more comfortable then, well. It’s- it’s a small sacrifice, I guess.”

“Oh my god, Dream. That was so sappy-“

“Are you implying something, Gogy?”

“Shut up Sapnap, stop making everything about you-“

“Oh my god, why are you three always like this?”

“Three? Bad, I- I literally did nothing but be try to be comforting!”

“I think that’s where you went wrong Dream-“

“Damn, I think Sapnap is on his toxic arc.”

“I might have to agree.”

“Wh- George! Bad! I am not on my toxic arc!”

“Are you guys always like this?” Tommy cuts in smoothly. His head is cocked to the side, like a confused dog. They had almost forgot that he was there, caught up in their bit in trying to distract themselves. “It’s not a bad thing,” he reassures, when he sees the defensiveness in the other their postures. “Just. It’s different, I guess?”

“Yeah, they’re always like this,” George answers first, gesturing at the other three. “Always laughing and bickering about the stupidest things.”

“Like you can really talk George. You and Sapnap are literally at each other’s throats like- literally I would be gone for five minutes and when I, when I come back you guys are beating each other up.” Dream huffs.

“And they have a tendency to use language they really shouldn’t.” Bad eyes each of them carefully, before slumping his shoulders in defeat. “Not that they’ll ever stop.” He eyes Tommy carefully. “And not that I think you’ll mind. Especially after-“

“What happened in the shit-shack? Yeah, no. He shouldn’t care. Do you?”

“You muffinhead- I just. I just talked about language!”

Sapnap laughs at Bad, before addressing Tommy once more.

“Dream was right, you know?” He throws and arm around said man’s neck, dragging him down and nearly choking the other in the green crop-top sweater he wore. “When he said you’d fit right in with our bunch.”

Tommy slackens his grip on his sword, in shock and slowly turning the cogs in his mind as he processes the implications behind easy spoken words.

“What- what are you talking about?”

Dream catches his slightly glazed-over look and grins crookedly, teeth on display. “What? Did you think we were going to leave you here? Just like that?’ He shoves Sapnap one more time, straight into George with a laugh. He ignores their complaints when he turns to look at Tommy again. “You said you were in exile before. Do you have someone waiting for you? Or a friend that visits?”

“Well. No? Dream- um. The other guy- he, he visits sometimes?” He stares unseeingly, a foreign feeling welling up in his chest somewhere- a place that hasn’t stirred in however long it’s been since he’d been exiled a second time. “And uh, Wilbur? G-ghostbur?”

“Wha- we’ll, um. We’ll talk about this Ghostbur later.” Bad helps steady George and Sapnap on their feet as they unfold from their sudden embrace, to put it lightly. “But other than him and the. The not-so-good Dream, there’s no one else, right?”

The questions leave Tommy a little taken aback. His foundations feeling more shaken than he had braced for. It isn’t that he doesn’t have an answer. He has an answer, and that’s the problem. It hit him so quickly, he was left almost lightheaded.

Because it’s true isn’t it? He’d only had one thought when he left Logstedshire while stuck under Dream’s thumb with the only form of other contact he had was with an amnesiac ghost who followed people around mindlessly. And that thought was that he wanted out. He didn’t want to be there anymore, stuck with two beings he could never connect with, never really talk to.

That he wanted to leave because there was no one telling him that he should stay.

The only person to really visit, other than his dead, once brother-figure, is the person who’s tormented him and his friends. That brought war upon him and all the people Tommy’s cared about. But it doesn’t matter does it? Because even those he had fought alongside had abandoned him in the end.

More than that though, was the striking thought that the person Tommy give his upmost trust to betrayed him.

It’s not something he likes to think about in depth, because that means thinking that Dream was not completely at fault for his misery. That at least half of that responsibility and decision rested on his best friend. Because it means that, pressure from Dream be damned, it was ultimately Tubbo’s choice.

Tubbo had spat words about how childish Tommy was being before the decision, hadn’t he? And while some of it might have been true, he’d placed Dream’s threats above him- above Tommy. He’d given up so much for the other and he had ended up with nothing. Less than nothing.

Tommy wonders if this, this realization was a long time coming. He feels a little hollow inside, a hole in him that was carved out with jagged edges and clawing nails by Tubbo’s hands. It’s bleeding and it burns something inside him that makes him want to curl up and cry.

But the grief is muted, and acceptance which is usually slow coming, is already there.

It makes sense, Tommy supposes.

He knows he’s been in denial for ages and anger is an emotion he’s always been intimate with. He’s already tried to bargain more that he cares to admit, and depression is no longer a phase but a lifestyle.

It’s a little relieving, Tommy thinks with mild surprise. There’s nothing holding him down anymore. No lingering thoughts of Tubbo that makes him feel guilty enough to stay. No more anxiety about how everyone would react to him leaving when they left him first. It’s freeing.

He looks at the small friend group, equal parts joking around and planning, while also glancing back at him with a concern that he’s no longer used to. The only thing holding them back from hovering over him is Dream’s slight eyebrow raise every minute or so that so obviously screams ‘don’t touch’. Tommy doesn’t know how he even mixed up this person with ‘his’ Dream when they’re practically opposites, similar voice or not.

“No. There’s no one else.”

Tommy watches the four startle, whipping around to his out-of-the-blue answer. It’s a little satisfying, knowing that he could make these four people that he’s always found terrifying jump at his voice.

“There’s no one else waiting for me back there.”

With another crooked grin, Dream sticks his hand out, fingers curled into a fist and hanging in the air.

“Welcome to the team, Tommy.”

With a grin, he fist-bumps the other man and the hole in his heart soothes, just a little more.

Chapter Text

It doesn’t take long for the Dream Team, Muffinteers, or whatever the four are calling themselves to pack up their minimal possessions, and it should only a minute for them to tear down what Sapnap had declared was the “Shit-Shack”. Tommy, in the meantime, sits to the side and watches them work. There isn’t much for him to do other than awkwardly stand there and fiddle his thumbs.

It’s a bit of a strange sight- the four of them together.

Tommy had to take a few minutes to realize just how different they were in comparison to the rest of the server, himself included. There’s caution in their stances, making sure they have each other’s back from all angles, but there’s a certain bounce to their step that Tommy vaguely recognizes from the times before the wars.

The way they freely talk to one another, jokes bouncing back and forth like a ping pong ball, not to mention the near ridiculous amount of skin contact. It’s like looking into a snow globe from the outside. A little world that revolves around them that no one else could touch without breaking. And maybe, just maybe Tommy could admit to himself that he’s a little bit touch starved. And maybe he could also admit that he’s more than a bit jealous of their dynamic.

“Hey kid, we’re just about done,” Dream calls out to him, and Tommy gives him the finger because Fuck you Dream, he’s not a child. He quickly puts his hand down because shit- this is Dream, but the other just laughs at him and returns the favor. “Just making sure you didn’t fall asleep on us already.”

“Whatever, Big Man.”

That’s probably something that’s going to be talked about Tommy muses with resignation. The way that Tommy reacted to Dream is anything but normal, and the unsubtle glances from all four of them means nothing good despite the good intentions.

He perks up slightly when they all wipe their hands clean and start making their way to him.

Tommy stands up, a hand placed lightly on the sword on his hip. It’s just a comfort, he tells himself. He can’t really excuse the tension that starts building up in his shoulders for anything other than what it is, but it’s infinitely better than he usually is around others. Dream and his group stand a bit away anyways.

Tommy is silently thankful.

“Are we ready then, Big Man?”

“Just about,” Dream answers, opening his inventory with a swipe of his hands. “We don’t exactly have enough materials for a trip. Or enough food to last us longer than a week at most. Right Bad?”

“Yep,” Bad replies with a thoughtful hum. “We have the armor from the villagers, but that’s all we have for protection. And taking into account the number of lives we might be limited to, we can’t afford to be careless anymore.”

Tommy winces slightly at the mention, watching the other two; George and Sapnap, clench their fists a little tighter, faces going carefully blank. In that moment, realization hit’s him like a truck. They others continue talking but suddenly Tommy is drowning in a sea of thoughts and hard truths. Because he realizes that as soon as Dream- Bitch Dream realizes that Tommy is gone, that he’ll be chasing after him in a heartbeat.

Bitch Dream, in all his netherite and overpowering weapons will eventually catch up to him because he always does, and he always finds a way. But that also means putting these four- Dream, George, Bad and Sapnap- in the crossfire. They haven’t had to learn the hard way yet, what dying in a server like this does to you, and he fears the day they might have to.

But they’re genuinely nice, something that so few people are now. More importantly, they’re nice to Tommy, and the only other kindness he’s known in the past months is from a dead man’s wandering soul. They deserve to know, don’t they?

But Tommy is selfish. He desperately, selfishly wants to cling to this kindness that contradicts the servers’ ways. He wants to be a part of their close-knit group.

“There’s- um. There’s something else you should know,” Tommy starts, before he can back out. They deserve to know; they deserve to know. He repeats it in his head, like that’ll calm the storm that his mind has become.

He thinks he might drown sooner in the guilt if he didn’t.

He can feel their stares, however gentle, bore into the back of his lowered head. “Dream- the other Dream. He- once he knows I’m gone, he’ll. He’ll chase after me. And that means he’ll chase after you. He’ll… He’ll kill you, you know?”

It’s silent, and the silence is terrifying. Tommy wonders when he’d gotten so used to the banter. It’s only been a few hours since he’d met them. Still, he wonders if he’ll have to familiarize himself to the silence again.

There’s a hand in his head, ruffling his golden locks as if petting a dog, and Tommy startles himself upright. There’s a gentle smile on the still unfamiliar face, a warmth coming from the calloused hands still stroking Tommy’s hair and his heart settles a bit. He takes a moment to stare at the cropped green hoodie to breathe.

“We thought about that already, and we’re willing to face the consequences.” Tommy glances up into green eyes, then beside him where the other three stand a few feet away. It’s reminiscent of the scene from this morning, but the friends have locked hands, and in Dream’s he holds Tommy. “We’re not gonna leave you behind. You’re a part of the team.”

“Oh,” is all Tommy can manage. He swallows thickly. “Okay.”

The hand lingers for a little longer, before retreating and Tommy nearly asks for more before deciding he should retain whatever dignity he had left. He fixes his hair with an amused huff.

“We do actually need to get going soon though,” George says, releasing his hands from Dream and Bad to swipe a hand over air, materializing his inventory. “We’ll have enough food to last us all a few days at least, and we can always get more on the way.”

“George might be an idiot, but he’s right,” Sapnap agrees, ignoring George’s (very sharp) elbow in his gut. “Let’s go guys- and we have to get you and the gremlin some armor and weapons sooner or later.” He nods towards Dream before focusing on Tommy’s weapon, still strapped to his hip. “That sword isn’t gonna last either.”

“Then let’s head out boys.”

“Wait up child!”

“I’m NOT A CHILD. I’m a BIG MAN!”

Calloused fingers run through his hair once, and Tommy can’t help but grin up at the unfamiliar familiar man, ignoring the mask still strapped to the right of him and starts running ahead. He can hear four pairs of footsteps running behind him, Bad calling out for all of them to “SLOW DOWN YOU GUYS”. But for the first time in ages, Tommy dares to think that he feels a little free.

Tommy chops down a few trees as he reminisces over the past few hours they had spent running and chasing and killing a few cows and pigs. For the short amount of time he’d spent together with these four, Tommy thinks he’s learned more about them than they had about him. At the very least, he think’s he’s got their strange friend dynamic figured out.

Sapnap, despite his fierce personality, strength and personality, is a fun guy to hang out with. He has some helpful tricks and doesn’t hesitate to join Tommy in annoying Bad and George with long running commentary. They have a mutual love of pushing people’s buttons and they acknowledged it properly with a handshake not even ten minutes after the initial chase. It’s great.

Bad is like the father figure among the group- Tommy figured it out within the first hour. Whenever fights would break out, they immediately go complaining to Bad. I mean, can you imagine? Three grown ass adults bickering and whining to another man, not that much older than them while the actual not-adult (he’s still not a fucking child thank you very much) laughs at them.

George, ignoring the initial quietness that followed the sudden understanding of possible death, is loud, sassy, and quite frankly, a child. Like, the man can obviously be serious when he needs to be, but Tommy also saw this man scream near inhumanely after goading Dream into chasing him.

And of course, there’s Dream himself.

He tosses the stone axe into his inventory along with half stack of logs. The man in question is a few trees away, axe disappearing from his hands and, presumably, into his own inventory. The mask is still stuck to his hip, fingers brushing over it, but Tommy focuses on the face that he’s slowly becoming accustomed to seeing.

Dream is still terrifying. The amount of knowledge that he can store in his dirty blonde locks is amazing to see come into play, especially with all these little tricks he’d apparently picked up from other people in a previous world. (Tommy still can’t wrap his mind around servers and worlds where death isn’t-)

Dream’s parkour is also next to none. Tommy doesn’t think even Technoblade could catch him if Dream was trying, watching as he bounces from tree to tree. Tommy even convinces Dream to teach him too, and follows behind him, bouncing on sturdy branches. It’s exhilarating, and he can easily see why Dream loved this so much.

But- and Tommy is a big man so he would never admit this, but Dream is a comfort. The way his fingers would occasionally find themselves in Tommy’s hair, leaving him feeling slightly warmer is comforting. The way he wheezes at all their stupid jokes is comforting. Dream as a person is just… warm.

Tommy doesn’t exactly want to put a solid label to this tentative almost, not quite friendship, but Dream is just a very comforting person. He can’t help but wonder if this is how brothers are supposed to act. He locks that thought away.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Tommy startles, turning around to come face to face with George who quickly flicks him between the brows. He glances behind him and realizes that he must have been in a daze if Dream walked off without him noticing. “We’re about to have a group talk. Stop looking constipated and let’s go.”

Tommy tests his luck by slapping the British man as revenge for the flick and chases after Dream, who’s slowly making his way towards Bad and Sapnap, head still in his inventory.

“Wait up Big Man!” Dream slows down, allowing Tommy to catch up and use him as a shield against George. Dream just laughs and ruffles his hair quickly before Sapnap and Bad join their little group only moments later, coming together in a disfigured circle.

“So, do any of us know where were actually going?” Sapnap starts off with a raised brow. “We don’t have a map and we left after saying ‘yeah, we have enough to survive’.”

“Well, uh. No.”

“Wow, Dream. Really helpful. Splendid, wonderful,” George drawls sarcastically, and earns a punch in the arm for his theatrics. Before things could get out of hand though, Tommy interrupts with a very firm clearing of his throat.

“We’re going the opposite way of… of L’Manberg.”

“L’Manberg?” Bad questions innocently. Tommy flinches.

“It’s my- the um. The place I was exiled from. All your evil twins live around there, including Bitch Dream… probably.” Tommy makes a face before laughing slightly. “Actually, I’m not sure if he even has a house to be honest with you fellas.”

A hand finds it’s way to his hair and Tommy allows the strokes to drain the sudden tension in his shoulders. The laughs are better than the memories of explosions and war and exile. Infinitely better.

“If we go out far enough, there’s a chance that we go far out enough that people won’t know where to look,” Bad suggests, letting the somber mood melt away. “It might not be a permanent solution, but we can settle down after a while and think of something better.”

“How far are we talking about? Actually,” Sapnap nudges Tommy slightly, and Dream releases Tommy from the comforts of his head rubs. He’s tempted to complain, but he does need the focus. “How far do you think we should go?” How far until you feel safe? The unasked question that lingered.

“I would say forever, but” Tommy hesitates. “Maybe like a week’s worth of travel? Or farther until we find decent land. That’s how it works, right?” The four nod at one another. There isn’t anything wrong with the plan. It’s a decent start compared to the flimsy barely though-out plan they’d taken off with.

“Alright you little gremlin,” George hands Tommy an iron axe, and he takes it, a tad bit cautious. “But you’re in charge of killing more cows and pigs. Dream can help you since he doesn’t know anything about collecting resources or building houses.” Tommy thinks he hears something that sounds suspiciously like “once a speedrunner, always a speedrunner” under George’s breath and chuckles to himself.

“The rest of us will take whatever else we need on the way then,” Bad nods along happily. “We should also kill a few sheep and make a few more beds for when we need them.”

“A new shit-shack each night! Wooooo!”

“Wh- Sapnap, you muffin! We’re absolutely not calling it-“

“Why not? I happen to think it’s a wonderful name. Shit-shack.”

“Tommy! Stop that you muffin!”

“You know, what does muffin even mean? C’mon Bad; what does muffin mean?”

“Oh my god, Bad. Are you cursing us out every time you call us… muffin.”

A slap was delivered squarely to the back of Dream’s bun and George’s head. Bad sighed, though he couldn’t stop his lips from twitching upwards.

“Let’s go you muffin heads.” Bad starts dragging the two by their wrists, and neither resists all that much. “The suns going to set soon, and we need to cover as much ground as we can before the mobs start spawning in.”

Sapnap and Tommy trail behind the trio, snickering to themselves at the misfortune Dream and George had gotten themselves into. Sapnap ruffles blonde locks with a snicker.

“You’ll be alright Tommy.”

For a moment, he lets himself bask in the banter between Dream, George and Bad while Sapnap threw in a few quips from Tommy’s side. And he thinks, yeah. Maybe he will be alright.