Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Disguised Toast is dead.” 

“Really?” Dream asked, shaking the bottle of pills, the brightly coloured pills spilling out onto his palm. “Who did it?” 

“His faction.” One of the Badlanders replied. “It seems that they had a vote, and it was a unanimous decision to kill him.” 

“Brutal,” Sapnap commented. 

“They threw him to the northern beast.” 

Dream eyes blew wide. He whistled through his teeth. 

“Wow.” 

“Holy shit.” 

------------------------------------------------------- 

“So the balance of the market here off…….” Karl pointed down on a piece of paper that recorded information about the market. “‘Offline’ has gone into hiding…….and Corpse is gone, along with…..Jack and Rae….. so everything is off balance.” 

Everyone in the room groaned. Power gaps meant that there would be more rats to clean, and they would have to be on guard more often. Everyone in the Badlands had gathered for a meeting about the current situations of the market. 

“Fucking- son of a B-” Quackity groaned. 

Dream felt like he could die on the spot in the aftermath of recent events. 

A power gap meant more fights for claiming the power gaps, and with power being everything in the market, this was one hell of a prospect to gain power.

But everyone was only thinking about the pain they were going through, defending, fighting and cleaning until someone filled the power gap. 

“Uh- not to make it worse or anything…..” Karl trailed off. “It seems like SBI has lost ‘Willow’” 

Everyone froze. 

“What the-” Sapnap started. 

“I’m sorry,” Dream started. “But what?” 

“YEah…….” Karl started. “ANd I’m ninety-ninety percent sure ‘Angel of Death’ has replaced them with someone better.” 

“.....” 

Everyone was too stunned to speak. 

“It probably also doesn’t help that SBI is slowly gaining power.” 

Everyone groaned again. 

SBI was a mafia. A powerful one too. ‘Blood God’, Technoblade, the right-hand-man of ‘Angel of Death,’ Philza, ‘Theseus,’ Tommy. And then, there was ‘Willow.’ No one knew who they were, no one knew his real name, no one knew what he looked like. But one thing was clear. He was the ‘Brains’ of SBI. 

Technoblade was the fighter, Philza was the influential leader that held them together, and Tommy was the schemer. 

‘Willow’ was the brains. They had planned the downfall of many people, controlling them on strings like a puppet. For example, they had manipulated a don into killing the right-hand man by supplying that the latter would betray him when the left-hand man was going to. And when the left-hand man took the throne, they ambushed them at the weakest point and took their gambling houses and power. 

Everyone could tell that ‘Willow’ was cruel. 

“I don’t know what happened….. But ‘Willow’ just vanished.” Karl continued. “I don’t know what happened.”

“So I assume a power gap opened up?” Silver asked. 

Silver had been one of the few to survive the carnage of Corpse. He had joined Dream a short time after the death of Corpse. They had shot him in between the eyes, but he had survived, but his brother, Than, had not. 

“Well……. For a brief while.” Karl clarified. “‘Angel of Death’ quickly found a replacement. Bought off the auction houses.” 

Dream lamented. He was tired. 

“Welp…..Is that everything, Karl?” 

“Yep!” 

Dream slapped his hands together. 

“Let’s get to work, shall we?” 

-------------------------------------------------------

“This is the place?” Dream eyed the hidden mansion in a birch tree. A scarf wrapped snuggling around his neck.

Winter was coming. He hated the cold. The cold would always bring shivers down his spine, regardless of how many layers he put on. The snow was annoying. It would stick to his hair, and it would stick to his clothes. It would melt and create slippery surfaces. Snow was a pain in the ass for him. 

“Yeah,” Sapnap answered, looking through binoculars. “Karl said that this was where children were kidnapped and tortured by one man.” 

They had gotten a tip from Karl that there may have been a child trafficking ring located in the forests of the far west. 

“......” 

Dream squinted. His eyesight zoomed in, one of the things he got after the government did god-knows-what to his body. He could see closer to the mansion, and there was a load of children being whacked off a cart. 

A fat man dressed in rings and a golden cloak soon exited the house. Dream could see faint bloodstains on the hem of the cape.

“I think we have a pedo,” Quackity acknowledged. 

Dream felt something snap within him. He hated Pedos the most. They were disgusting, having no regard for the trauma they would cause.  

“Those pigs are the worse.” the masked man stood up, coughing slightly. Sapnap whipped his head to Dream in alarm. 

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” Dream spoke. “I’m like this more during winter too.” 

Dream had been an experiment of the government. Lasting effects on his body had a significant impact on him daily. Health was a bigger concern. 

This is especially true when people are subject to the same type of experimenting as you drop dead around the same period. 

“.....You sure, man? You can sit this one out.” Quackity questioned as he dropped his binoculars to his waist. 

“No.” Dream banged his fist into his palm, “I’m not missing out on beating a fucking pig to death.” 

-------------------------------------------------------

“G-get away fr-o-m me!” The fat man screamed, waving his arms around in front of him. 

His guard had been easy to take out. As a result, the security in the mansion was broken and lose. 

Another example of pigs being too high on their egos and being drunk on power. Dream thought as he approached the man, ready to kill him. 

But in fear, the man shoved Dream lightly and tried to run past him only to encounter Sapnap, who had been finishing off the guards. 

“Ha!- You can’t kil-”

The man didn’t even finish his sentence. Sapnap burned the pig alive as he deserved. 

“AAAAAAGGHGHHHH!HH!HH!H!H!!” The man screamed as the flames consumed him until he was nothing but a pile of smouldering dust. 

“......”

“.......”

“You have blood on your mask, Dreamie.” 

“It’s just blood.” Dream wiped the blood with the back of his hand. “It’ll wash off.”

“........”

“Quackity is taking care of the kids, right?” 

“Yeah.” Sapnap replied, “He’s excellent with kids.” 

“Hm.” 

The scent of blood lightly coated the air, making Dream lightly sick. He wasn’t afraid of blood, but some odours at times made him nauseous. 

“You okay, Dream? You look pale as fuck.” Sapnap acknowledged. 

Sapnap knew what Dream had gone through, as the noir was also an experiment of the government. However, Sapnap was fortunate and had only gone through the very beginning of experimenting and was only fused with flames, making him a walking torch. 

“I’ll be fine.” Dream responded as he watched Sapnap pour gasoline. 

They were planning to burn down the mansion, as the children would no longer be reminded of a traumatizing experience they went through. 

The smell of gasoline mixed with the light fragrance of blood. 

Dream closed his eyes and inhaled the smell of gasoline. 

Sapnap loved the smell of gasoline, and Dream could see why. The fumes made you feel drunk, drunk enough to make you forget about all the shite that was happening in your life. 

But then realized that Sapnap had burned the pig to death, meaning that no smell of blood should be around.

“Sapnap….do you smell that?” 

“Smell what?” 

“Smell……..” Dream sniffed the air. “Blood….pine?” 

“Pine doesn’t-” Sapnap started. But he stopped talking as the faint whiff of blood and pine reached his nose, sending his brain into confusion. Pine trees didn’t grow around the west. Blood spilled when they took out the guards, but they were rooms away. 

“Where-” 

Dream peered down at the puddle of gasoline Sapnap had poured. A dripping sound was emitting from the pool,

“.....”

“.....”

Dream approached the puddle. 

He tapped, and a hallow noise rang back. 

“.....” 

“Move.” 

Dream brought his fist down on the wood flooring, shattering it into splinters, and it exposed a set of stairs. 

“The smell is coming from down here….” Sapnap spoke as he ignited his hand into a torch as they walked down the stairs. “Be careful of traps.” Sapnap reminded.

“Hm.” Dream hummed as he stepped down. 

It took a little while before they reached the bottom. Dusty stone floors greeted them, along with pillars made of pine wood.  

“It’s all dust.” 

“.....” 

“Dream?” 

Dream could hear the sound of droplets. The smell of blood became heavier as Dream moved deeper into the darkness.

His boots landed in liquid, and it was dark water upon closer inspection. Or so he thought, upon a closer look, It was blood. 

“Sapnap. Get over here.” 

Sapnap hastened to Dream’s side. 

“Mind lighting up the place?” Dream gestured, to which Sapnap obliged. 

And something greeted them.

It was a man. 

His wrists had been bound over his head, his head ducked, and what seemed like curly brown hair was mangled with dried blood and was a rat’s nest, his torso had red and bleeding slashes, and his knees were bent at an odd angle. Blood covered the brunt.

“Holy shit.” 

Dream gradually stepped closer, only stopping when the man was mere inches from his face. 

Dream slowly raised his hand, checking the latter’s neck’s pulse point. 

“He’s still alive.” Dream stated after a moment. 

“Looks like he was tortured.” Sapnap scrutinized. 

“You think?” 

Dream swiftly cut the ropes that held the man’s wrists above his head. 

“We taking him?” 

“Yeah.” 

The dirty-blond looked at the brunt’s knees. He could see that it was nothing but a mess of bone and flesh.

“His knees are destroyed. Both of them.” 

“Quackity can take a look at him.” 

“Help me here, would you?”

-------------------------------------------------------

Quackity tapped his foot, waiting for Sapnap and Dream. 

The sound of flames soon came from behind him. 

“There you are, what-” Quackity paused when he turned, seeing the limp body that Dream held. “Who’s the guy?” 

“Don’t know. He was probably tortured, though.” 

“Fucking- I can tell. His knees are bent the wrong way.” 

“Man! that pig was fucking inhumane.” 

“Want to do the honour’s Sapnap?” 

Sapnap then proceeded to light the trail of gasoline, his fist turning into flames, the bright orange fastly travelling up the gas before reaching the mansion, where it proceeded to burst with a brilliant boom, the wind blowing from the force of the luminous explosion. 

The three of them watched the flames consume the mansion. A fitting way to end a nightmare. 

“The kids?” Dream asked.

“They’re safe.” 

“We probably need to get out of here before someone comes,” Sapnap commented. 

“Yeah.” 

------------------------------------------------------- 

Little did they know, the man they rescued would cause one hell of an event to happen. 

Chapter Text

“Jesus……” Quackity muttered, washing his hands with a bowl of water. “That pig did a number on him…….”

“How bad is it?” 

“He has blunt force trauma around the area around his left eye, so he’ll probably need glasses. Also, he broke his left arm in three places, and his knees are fucked.”

“Geez… I can never get used to it.” Karl lamented.

“Used to what?” 

“Seeing people that have been….. tortured.”

“........”

“........”

“Yeah. Skeppy was lucky he survived.”

Skeppy was Bad’s partner in crime. He had been tortured once. The torturer had had burning hot metal rods stabbed into his head, leaving permanent dents in his skull. He survived thanks to the diamonds infused into his skin.

Quackity sighed. 

“I’m no doctor, but I’m pretty sure that he might never walk again, and even if he does, he’ll walk a lot more different than before.” 

“......”

“By the way- do we know who he is?” The raven asked. 

“No? Why ask?” Sapnap questioned, playing with his hand, a torch again, orange flames sitting where his hand should be. 

“Dream’s not the type to save anyone. And bring them back to base,” He added at the end.

“He’s been changing ever since he met Sykkuno.”

“Sykkuno died.”  

“... Yeah.”

Sapnap sighed. 

“Dreamie….. you can never tell what’s going on in his mind.”

“.......”

“.......”

“Where is he anyway?”

“I think….. He might be on the rooftop.” 

-----------------------------

“Pst…..” George whispered in the dark, shaking Dream, who still lay on their shared bed, asleep. 

“....” 

“Dream!” 

“Mh……” Dream rolled over onto his stomach, groaning at the disturbance of his precious sleep time.

“Dream!”

“What. George, it’s still dark out.” The blond groaned. 

“Come to the roof with me.”

Dream raised his head from his pillow. Strands of dirty blond hair blocked his vision and covered his incredulous expression. 

“George, it’s dark out.” Dream smashed his face back down onto the pillow, ignoring the splitting headache he had as a side effect of his time as an experiment for the government. Just a mere guinea pig that they did the unthinkable to, and then was tossed away, left alone to deal with the side effects. “Go back to sleep.” he muffled into the pillow. 

“Dream…. Please……” George pleaded in a tone that Dream could not resist. 

Dream groaned. He was going to feel like shite the following day for not resting enough. 

“Alright, alright, ALRIGHT.” Dream groaned, pushing him off the bed, his body protesting and screaming at him to get some rest, to sleep more, to ignore George.

But his mind won over him this time. 

“What is it…..” Dream scratched his hair, sitting up. 

“Meet me on the rooftops,” George whispered, his body disappearing. 

Dream blinked at where his lover had stood a moment ago. It took him a while to process that George wasn’t there anymore. 

Damn. The man thought as he reached for his smiley mask on the nightstand. 

George had powers. He wasn’t an experiment but had them since birth. 

His powers were “Dreaming.” A power that could conjure up illusions from dreams he had. Or Dreams that someone had. It did have some side effects, it would take the brunt sleepy, and as a result, he would or could sleep up to a day after using his gift for more than five minutes.

Dream dragged his groggy body out of bed and stepped into the hallway. Or what he called a hallway, when in reality, it was just a hallway with two dead ends on both sides. 

Dream resided in a temple. An abandoned temple from the “Blood Rain.” 

“Blood Rain” had taken place a while back. It was a turning point in history where the government had decided to eradicate all religious figures. Of course, most were wiped out quickly by the government, but one religious figure and their followers didn’t go down without a fight. 

They were called “Angels of Sin.” They followed the Goddess of Death. 

They fought back. The followers stabbed, killed and shot the agents sent by the government to wipe them out. They had had an advantage over them initially. Their temple was a maze: hidden corridors, hidden spaces, mind-boggling hallways, and hidden traps. Nevertheless, the followers fought bravely to their deaths, all for the Goddess. 

Until, eventually, the government overpowered them. And for once, they decided to be ‘nice.’ They told them that would be spare if they left now. And the once brave followers turned into lambs and ran. They all ran away, ran away from something that they were supposed to be loyal to. They all ran, apart from one man. 

This one-man just sat there, watching his colleagues run with their tails tucked between their legs. Alive. 

But he was dead. 

Being the a-holes they were, the government agents gave him the slowest and most painful death they could, him practically being tortured and being lit on fire alive, along with the temple. 

But once the fire burned out. Philza rose from the ashes, great black wings on his back, injuries were all gone, and alive. The temple rebuilt itself, baffling everyone, as the temple had burned it down. 

The Goddess had blessed him by staying loyal to her.

He became the ‘Angel of Death.’ 

He sought revenge by first killing the agents. Then he hunted and assassinated the former followers that didn’t remain loyal to her. 

This man was Philza. 

The ‘Angel of Death.’ 

Philza moved on after ‘Blood Rain.’ 

He left the temple, abandoning it until Bad showed up. 

The temple had confusing paths, but Dream knew it like the back of his hand. He slowly made his way to the spiral stair, walking up and crawling out of a section of the glass dome that allowed access to the roof. 

A massive dark spread of gleaming stars greeted him. 

Maybe it was worth it waking up while it was still dark out. 

“It was worth it?” George whispered to him, “Waking up this early and being dragged out of bed by me?” 

“......” 

Dream faintly smiled. 

“I guess it was.” 

The two spent the rest of the time it was dark outside on the rooftop, stargazing until the warm rays of the sun began to peek out from the east, rays peeking through the mountains of trash and buildings, the warm glow shining away from the stars that gleamed in the dark. 

The night sky may have been beautiful, but Dream practically fell down the spiral stairs after returning inside. 

“GEORGE!!!” Quackity hollered at the brunt, scolding the man, “I KNOW YOU, AND DREAM GET ALL LOVEY DOVEY AND SHIT, BUT THIS IS GOING IMPACT DREAM’S HEALTH IF YOU KEEP PULLING SHITE LIKE THIS!!” 

“Quackity’s mad,” Sapnap whispered to Karl. 

Quackity huffed, then sighed with a groan. 

The raven pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m no doctor and may only know a little more than the average person on first-aid and shit-” the raven gestured, “but I’m like pretty sure that Dream shouldn’t do that again.” 

Dream had a fever, a little small one, but was still bed-ridden. 

“Sorry….” George muttered as he changed the IV drip connected to the blond. “I shouldn’t have dragged you out of bed…….” 

Dream stared at George through his fever-ridden eyes. 

“It’s fine…….” Dream sighed, heat stabbing his body and pools of ice-cold sweat coating his body. “I enjoyed our time…. Together.” 

George beamed. 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“An idiot that loves your ass.” 

George lightly smacked Dream.

“Go to sleep Dream.” 

-----------------------------

“Dream?” 

Dream opened his eyes. All that greeted him was the sky, no longer shimmering with bright jewels but with pollution and clouds. 

“Quackity has a report,” Sapnap muttered. 

“....... okay.” Dream stood up, smacking his pants to get rid of the dust he sat in, the roof having months of dust and exposure to the elements. “I’m coming.” 

“.......” 

Dream walked past Sapnap and lowered his head through the opening when Sapnap asked him a question. 

“Were you thinking about George?” 

Dream froze. 

“.......”

“.......”

“I was.” 

“.....” 

“I miss Gogy.” 

“So do I.” 

-----------------------------

“WHERE ZHE FRICK DID HE-” 

“HOW THE FUCK-” 

“HIS KNEES ARE FUCKED-” 

Sapnap and Dream walked in, only to a frenzy of people, Quackity at its core freaking out, his ‘mama duck’ instinct kicking in, people and members of the Badlands ran around in a panic. 

“.....” 

“Uh-” Sapnap started. “Did we miss-” 

“THE FRICKEN GUY IS GONE!!!” Quackity screeched at Sapnap, making the man jump and latch onto Dream like the clingy person he was. “I TOOK MY EYES- I MEAN, EYE OFF OF HIM, AND HE JUST FUCKING VANISHES INTO THIN AIR!!!” 

“Did- Hmpf. you say his knees were fucked?” Dream shifted a bit. 

“YES!!!! AND IF HE MOVES AROUND AND WALKS RIGHT NOW, HE’S GOING TO DAMAGE THEM EVEN MORE!!! “ 

Dream blinked as Sapnap got off of him. 

“So he ran.” 

“YES!” 

Dream massaged his head a bit, messing up his hair and tangling it. 

“First of all, calm down.” 

“I HAVE A FUCKING PATIENT ON THE LOOSE!!!” 

“Yet, you declare you’re not a doctor.” Which shut Quackity’s mouth, “Mama bird lost her ducklings?” Dream mocked, to which Quackity flipped him off. 

“I don’t think he made it that far.” Dream continued, snickering at Quackity, “In case you forgot, this place was like a labyrinth. The corridors are lengthy and incoherent, never-ending and abnormal.” 

“.....” 

“So, it’s most likely he’s still inside this temple, trying to find a way out.” 

-----------------------------

Every step he took through the rooms filled with puzzles and traps, sharp pain would shoot up his legs. It was painful to move, and he should have just stayed lying down. 

“Ugh!” 

He doubled over, leaning against the walls for support. 

He had woken up in a strange place and was not going to stick around to what was going to happen to him next. They had treated him for his injuries, but their kindness could have been a facade to break him even more. 

Since birth, he had already been broken and accepted his fate. 

He had to keep moving. 

He kept putting his feet in front of the other, the braces preventing his knees from bending. He suspected that his knees were fucked, and moving around would fuck them up even more, but he kept moving, leaning on the walls for support with his good arm. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” a voice whispered, their hot breath trickling down his neck and bringing chills up his spine. 

His body reacted naturally and swung his good arm right at the person behind him, but the person caught his arm before it made contact with the man. 

The man loomed over him, a smiley mask covering the majority of his face and having messy dirty-blond hair. 

And his legs at his moment decided that it was the best time to give out. 

His legs buckled, and he fell, but the smiley mask man caught him in a hug, his hand clutching onto the black sweater of the dirty blond.

“......”

He felt his blush spread across his face, turning him a bright red. 

“Pft- hahaha.” 

The man just laughed at him. 

“.......”

“.......”

A moment of awkward silence passed by them.

“Look….. I know you don’t trust me.” 

“Hm.” 

“But I think we can both agree that you probably still need medical treatment. Okay?” 

“.....” 

The man with the potentially fricked up knees nodded. 

“And we both know that the government medics are nothing but a-holes, and they mean nothing but more suffering.” 

The man nodded again. 

“And the closest thing we have to a doctor is a Mama duck that’s quacking its head off.” 

“Pft.” The man chuckled. 

“So…… I’m just going to-” In one swift motion, the smiley man picked up the other, being careful not to agitate his knees even more. “Take you back to him. He’s not fucked up in the head enough to do anything to you.” He added at the end. 

“......” 

He should have screamed and fought the man. But he was so tired. 

As he dozed off, he thought to himself, 

I am that touched-starved, huh? 

“......”

The blond stared down at the man.

…..He reminds me of George……

-----------------------------

“WHERE THE FUDGE-” 

“I’m here.” Dream answered, carrying the slumbering man. “He made it to the third door, probably could have solved to the puzzle to get out.” 

“The third door?” Sapnap questioned as Quackity gestured for Dream to put the man down on the couch. “He made it that far? Kudos to him.” 

“Yeah.” Dream commented. “From what I could tell, he solved the other puzzles pretty quickly.” 

“Even the Rubix cube thingy?” 

“Yet.” 

“Wow,” Quackity spoke. 

“This guy’s got some serious brainpower.” 

“And it made it that far with his knees being completely fucked.” 

Chapter Text

Dream was cooking. 

It was as simple as that. 

It wasn't because he was terrible or a prodigy. It was because of why he would cook. 

Dream only cooked when he was having conflicting feelings rising inside of him.

He slammed the knife down through the carrots, along with the cutting board entirely. He would have to scrap the whole thing not to risk anyone ingesting a shard of wood or a fragment of iron, as the knife also chipped at the contact with the pointed vegetable. 

He turned his head to the boiling pot, filled with butter squash, white onions, vegetable stock, seasonings and spices: sage, nutmeg, salt and cracked black pepper. 

He stared them down, observing the white steam rise from the rapidly heating liquid and chunks of vegetables. 

“Stress cooking again?” 

“You have a problem with it, Sapnap?” 

“No,” Sapnap answered, approaching the man more. “I don’t have a problem with food.” he slung his arms over Dream’s shoulders, his chin resting on Dream’s shoulder. 

“Hm.” Dream reached for the pepper mill. The soup base needed more pepper, in his opinion.  

“Dude! Why are you adding so much pepper?!” 

“It needs more pepper.” 

“Dude, no. As much as I like food, you have the strangest taste buds and will literally drown or smother your food in something. And in this case, your smouldering this soup with pepper.” 

“Quit being a baby about it.” Dream grumbled as he twisted the top of the mill to sprinkle out some freshly cracked pepper. “I won’t add as much as last time, happy?” 

“Very.” 

Dream reached over to grab the lid, commanding it to zip right into his hand for him to put on top of the pot. 

“Did you follow a recipe?” 

“Nope. Made it up on the spot with whatever ingredients we had laying around.” 

“So should I expect to find a dead rat in here?” 

Dream threw a kitchen towel at Sapnap. 

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” 

---------------------------------------------

“........” 

“.......”

“For once, this soup isn’t smouldered in pepper for once, and I’m happy about it,” Karl spoke in between mouthfuls of soup. “Good soup.” 

“Good soup,” Quackity repeated, devouring his portion of soup. 

“Thanks.” Dream responded as he handed Sapnap his portion. “Bat?”

“Right here.” 

Bat, or Bates, was once a former member of Corpse’s faction. After the slaying of Corpse, the remaining people, once loyal to Corpse, turned to Dream, as he and Corpse had a good relationship with one another. 

“Take this to the rest of the guys.” Dream plonked down the large pot filled with butter squash soup. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Oh, right.” 

Dream shoved a pouch into Bat’s hands.

“Take that.” 

“!” 

“It’s Fried Salmon skins.” Dream turned his back to Bat, strolling over to the couches arranged into a circle. “You’ve lost weight, after all.” 

“Thanks.” 

Bat grabbed the pot and slowly walked out to the rest of the Badlanders so that they could consume the remains of the soup Dream stressed cooked. 

“Someones being nice~~~” Quackity teased. 

“I’m not.” Dream coldly responded, pushing his spoon through his amount of butter squash soup. “I’m just paying him.” 

“For what?” 

“Following Corpse’s last order.” 

“?” 

“Corpse ordered Bat to sell him out.” 

“Whoa.”

"’ Offline’ killed over half of the faction." Dream continued. “And turns out, Bat is a little too soft for this line of work.” 

“.......” 

“So you’re worried?” Karl teased.

Dream shot him a glare. 

“No.” 

“You are.” 

“No.” 

Yes.” 

“Want your organs to be harvested? Karl?” 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Sapnap pointed with his spoon. 

The group soon fell into a comfortable silence while consuming their butter squash soup. 

---------------------------------------------

“Oh yeah- Dream, did he tell you anything about himself?” 

“?” Dream looked at the duck hybrid, confusion written from behind his mask. 

“The dude with the fucked up knees.” Quackity elaborated. “Cause he’s still out.” 

“No.” 

“Bummer.” 

“Why ask?” 

Quackity gave Dream a look. 

“We know jackshite about him.” 

“True.” Dream groaned. “Can’t Karl look into this?” 

“I have,” Karl answered. “There’s nothing.” 

“Nothing?” 

“Nothing,” Sapnap confirmed. 

“There has been no missing person’s description that matches him,” Karl continued. “There are no wanted notices of him, and certainly, there’s no suspicious activity from anyone that would indicate which factions he’s from or if he’s even in a faction!” 

“Does he have tats then?” Sapnap asked. “Tats are one way to identify a person.” 

“I don’t know,” Quackity answered. “He may have some on his left arm, but there was so much blood I couldn’t even tell.” 

“Hm.” 

“........” 

“........” 

“So…..was he just a nobody?” Karl questioned, scratching his head, clearly confused by the whole ordeal of things. 

“No.” Dream answered. “We don’t know who he is, but we can probably assume he’s from some sort of place or faction that has power over something or someone.” 

“What makes you say that?” 

“The pig that we slaughtered as known to kidnap powerful enemies of his, or just allies, or just even people with the slightest relation to his enemies. And Sapnap here-” Dream jabbed his thumb at Sapnap. “Was the first to discover that torture room that he was in. And people just don’t torture others without a good reason.” 

“They could just like seeing others in pain, or they just torture” people for the fun of it.” Quackity pointed out. 

“True.” Dream sighed, leaning backwards and running his hands through his hair. “My head hurts just from thinking about it.” 

This raised several alarms with the three other men. 

Quackity surged forward, ready to run off to grab Dream’s medication if needed. 

“How bad does your hea-” Quackity started, worrying immediately. 

“It’s a fucking expression I’m using.” Dream cut off. “I’m fine.” 

“.....”

“You sure?” Sapnap cocrenrly asked. “Your health has been taking a nosedive recently, you just stressed-cooked and seeing how Valkyrae and Jack died from th-

“ I’m fine, Sapnap. ” 

“......” 

“I’ll be fine.” Dream swung his head up. “It’ll take more ‘that’ for the government to kill me.” 

“.....” 

“So what should we do about ‘him’ now?” 

Karl shrugged. 

“I guess we wait for him to wake up now.” 

---------------------------------------------

“Wow. He’s still out of it.” Karl spoke. 

“Yep.” Quackity sighed. 

The man in question was still asleep, completely still and unmoving, hooked up to IV drips and blood. 

“I don’t even know if he has brain damage or not….” Quackity grumbled. “And it’s not like I can go into a hospital to request a scan of his brain or anything. The government only has the hospital for the kiss-ups they have.” 

Karl patted Quackity on the shoulder. 

“Well, you’re doing the best you can right now.” 

“Thanks.” 

Then, there was a light tapping on the door. 

“Yeah?” Quackity called out.

“It’s Bat,” Bat spoke through the door. “We have a situation where some junk fell onto some people.” 

“Jeez…..” Quackity grumbled, “we should really stabilize those junk piles more.” 

“Dream and Sapnap went out to do that.” 

“Did they-” 

As Quackity and Karl stood up to leave, they were completely unaware that the man’s right eye snapped back open when they stepped out of the room. 

He was awake. 

Chapter Text

He gradually sat up. 

The sunlight peeking through the curtains dimly lighted the room. The space he was in was lifeless with faint echoes of footsteps travelling to his ears, and the tips twitched in anticipation.

He listened until the footsteps merged with silence. 

It was quiet. 

Too tranquil. 

He examined the room that surrounded him. 

There was, of course, the bed he was sitting on, medical supplies, a first-aid kit, a nightstand with bottles of prescriptions, along with a casino chip with a “:]” engraved on it.

There were also blood infusions, along with IV drips sticking into his veins, wrapped tightly but not too tight in the crease of his elbows. 

It reminded him of his childhood. 

His childhood had been a complete mess, and it was no different now. 

The last thing he recalled was making his way down the corridor after solving enigmas before a smiley masked man caught him. 

And he was in bed again. 

As much as he would like to stay underneath the warm sheets of the bed, he had to GO. He had to MOVE. 

He once again had no idea where he was. He only knew that he was no longer in the pitch dark basement and somewhere else. But as far as he knew, this could have been just a setup, one where they would make them feel safe and then fling that sensation out the window just for him to suffer again. 

He tried to swing his legs around to touch the floor, but they were weighted down. At first, they thought they were chained down to the bed to prevent him from escaping. But upon closer inspection, it was just cast. Casts on his legs, going from the bottom of his feet to the middle of his thighs. 

He rocked his legs back and forth before continuing. 

He slowly swung his legs around, the casts dragging across the sheet, taking it with it. 

When his casted feet touched the floor, he tried to push himself off his feet, but he could not straighten his legs to stand due to the casting around his legs. And to begin to topple over. 

Shit. 

He shut his eyes, waiting for the floor to smack him, but it never did. 

Strong arms wrapped around his stomach. 

“.....”

“.....”

They slowly opened their eyes, the floor carpet greeting him along with strands of dirty-blond hair. Then, slowly, they turned their head to the right, where they could feel the presence of a man next to them. 

The same smiley mask greeted him. But he hadn’t heard any footsteps. 

“....”

“.....” 

“That’s the second time I catch you endangering your own life.” 

“.....” They shot him a look. 

Dream sighed. He then proceeded to lift the man back onto the bedsheets. 

“!” They tensed up in Dream hold, even after Dream landed him back on the fluffy bed. 

“Relax, I’m not going to try anything.” Dream pulled the sheet over the casted legs. “I may be in the black market scene, but I don’t like to play dirty.” Dream began to pull back from the personal space of the mysterious man. “Meaning I don’t attack the injured. Only scum pulls that shit.” 

“.....” They eyed Dream with a suspicious look. 

“Why I’m helping you? Is that what you want to ask?” 

“.....” 

“Because you're going to get an eyeful from Quackity, he’s going to bite your head off once he finds out you tried to stand.” 

“WHO THE FUCK TRIED TO STAND??!” 

“Shit.” Dream muttered. “Hi, Quackity.” 

Dream could tell Quackity was not amused at what he overheard without twisting his body to face him.

“When did you get here? I just glimpsed you exiting with Karl.” 

“Well!” Quackity started, storming forwards towards them. “I overlooked my casino chip, and I decided to circle back seeing how Sapnap gifted it to me! And then….. I overheard this lovely back-and-forth about STANDING UP???” 

Both men in question were on the verge of getting both our their asses kicked by the mama duck. 

“.....” 

“Well,” Dream turned to face Quackity. “I decided to get some painkillers.” 

“Why?” 

“Because in case you haven’t noticed Quackity…… I am dying over here. My ribs are killing me. Since I’m stupid and made some wrong moves while stabilizing the junk piles we have.”

Dream tossed his head to the side to get the stray strands of dirty blond hair away from his mask. “I came in here since you took the med-kit, and this guy-” Dream pointed at the brunt. “Was just sitting up, and I was giving him a warning about how you would fuck him up if he attempted to stand.” 

Quackity scrunched his face up, glaring at Dream, shooting daggers with his eye, staring through the souls of Dream and said, impaired human. 

After minutes of death-glaring, Quackity’s body language finally relaxed. 

“Alright….” Quackity spoke with a dash of skepticism, “I believe you for now.” 

Quackity extended his hand to the nightstand, reaching for his casino chip, grasping it in between his fingers before tossing it in the air, the golden highlights twinkling in the dim lighting. He glanced at the brunt. 

“Hey.” 

“......” 

“If Dream here- does try anything, holler and I’ll fuck him up.” 

“Really?” Dream questioned. “I can easily dropkick you, Quackity.” 

The brunt's eyes began to drift from Quackity to Dream, then to Quackity and Dream again. 

“Oh? You shouldn’t threaten someone that knows your medical history.” 

“I thought you had higher standards. You said that you would never fight someone “medically.” 

“Really? Are we lecturing about standards now?!” 

“You have SOMETHING to comment on?!” 

It had escalated quickly. With Quackity at first, terrorizing Dream, but now both humans were at each other's throats, throwing insults at each other, all while the poor and bewildered brunt watched on. 

“......” 

“So WHAT IF I have standards?!” 

“I’m just saying-” 

Unnoticed by the arguing men, a small but noticeable green portal had opened, with swirls spilling out from it. 

“QUACKITY!!!!” a voice screeched out from the portal. “WHAT’S TAKING YOU SO LONG?!?!?!?” 

“I’M ON MY WAY!!!” Quackity screamed at the portal. 

“WELL, HURRY UP BEFORE I LEAVE YOUR DUCK BUTT!!!!”

“OKAY!!!” Quackity turned on his heel and stormed out. He shot Dream a look before closing the door. “Don’t try anything on him. He needs bed rest for how his knees were broken backwards.” 

“.......” 

The door closed with a deafening bang. 

Dream turned his attention back to the brunt, who just blinked. 

“.......” 

“......”

Dream sighed as he pulled up a chair and sat backwards on it. 

“.....” 

“.....” 

It was awkward. Both had no idea how to communicate since they knew crud about each other. 

“.....”

“.....”

“This is awkward.” Dream commented. 

“......”

“.....”

“Are you a hybrid by any chance? Your ears are elongated more than the usual human.” 

The brunt nodded shyly. 

“Don’t like the fact that you are one?” 

The brunt nodded once more. 

“Hm.” 

“.....” 

The brunt stared at Dream. 

“Am I a hybrid?” Dream asked, clearly reading the facial expression of the brunt. “Is that what you want to ask?” The brunt nodded.

 “It’s complicated.” Dream replied. “A lot more than you think.” 

“Do you have a family? Or a faction you belong to?” 

The man in question gave him a suspicious look. 

Dream held up his hands. “Look, I’m not trying anything. You heard Quackity, he’s going to fuck me up if I try anything, or at least, he’s going to try to fuck me up.” 

“......” The brunt turned away from Dream, glaring at the wall ahead of him, a washed-out gray. 

He seemed mad, or maybe even resentful. But Dream detected a slider of betrayal and despair in the eye that was unbandaged. 

“Alright, touchy subject, won’t question you about it anymore.” 

“.......” 

“......” 

“Can I know your name, at least?” 

“......” 

The brunt opened his mouth, and nothing came out, but after closing it and gulping, a sound came out, croaking and crackling. 

“ Wilbur .” 

Chapter Text

“How the fuck is he walking.” Quackity deadpanned. 

It had only been three weeks. They found a man in a basement with grave wounds three weeks after encountering a man in a basement. And yet, somehow, somewhere and in some tarnation, he had fully recovered. 

Fully recovered. 

From the abrasions to his face. 

From the open cuts that littered his body. 

And from said fucked-up knees. 

Which, in a sense, is not what a standard human can do. Sure, there are insane people out there that can heal faster than the “regular” human, but even though there were people with faster healing processes, there was no way that you could recover from severely damaged knees just straight to walking again. 

“I think he holds some sort of power? Or gift even?” Karl remarked as Wilbur whacked one of their own with a tie rod, whacking lightly, knowing he was being scrutinized. “I don’t believe he’s a hybrid, though?” 

“Is he, though?” Dream oppugned. “His ears are elongated, and he recovered swifter than a regular human.” 

“He’s not telling us crap about his biology,” Quackity verified. 

“Any faction or family he belongs to?” Sapnap commented. “Because, if he is, we are fucked.” 

“Nope.” 

“Did he have any tattoos?” 

“He might,” Quackity answered skeptically. “I think he might have some on his left arm, but I couldn’t tell because of the blood loss. I could only quickly give him a couple of half-hazard stitches before I dressed it up.” 

At that moment, using his left arm, Wilbur tossed a metal scrap from up high in the pile of junk that he was scavenging through. 

“Seems to be healed.” 

“What do you think about him? Dream?” 

“......” 

“Dream?"

Dream wasn't paying attention. Instead, he stared at Wilbur. 

He watched as he stuck his tongue out at a man who had been screaming his head off about how Wilbur had intentionally thrown a metal rod at him. 

With profanities tearing through the air, the only thing that Dream heard the loudest was Wilbur’s laugh. 

“.......” 

And then Dream noticed three lives goggling at him, each with a gleaming light in their eyes. 

“What?” 

“DO I see adoration???” Sapnap sang cheerfully. 

“It’s not.” Dream answered firmly, rolling his eyes and his stiff shoulders. 

“Sure…….” Sapnap smuggling smiled. 

“Sure it is…….” Karl repeated a mischievous look in his eyes. 

Dream shot them a glare. 

“.....”

“So, is it safe to say that Wilbur’s not a part of anything or anyone?” Quackity spoke, breaking the tension. 

“I guess.” Dream muttered, going back to staring. 

“Does he have anywhere to go?” Karl asked, “an apartment, home, place, a base?” 

“Nope,” Quackity replied. “He said that he, quote, ‘don’t belong anywhere anymore’” 

“Hm.” Dream grunted in response, “was he kicked out?” 

“Didn’t tell, not telling a zip,” Quackity replied. “Very closed off, yadda, yadda, yadda. He just said he doesn’t belong anywhere anymore.” 

“We double sure he isn’t the government or an undercover one, right?” Sapnap asked. 

“Yeah.” Karl spoke. “I took a look through the records of the government, and there was no picture that matched him, nor was there a name that matched.” 

Quackity whipped his head to face Karl upon learning that Karl had access to government records.

“You mangled your way into the records of the government.” the winged man deadpanned. 

“Yep.” Karl replied calmly. 

“Isn’t that practically impossible?” 

“Nothing is impossible. It’s just that nobody tries or gives up easily.” 

“Why did you look through the records of the government anyway?” 

“Well….” Karl snuck a glance at Dream and Sapnap. “You know…….” he trailed off, not wanting to finish, see at how both Dream and Sapnap’s facial expressions darkened, their mood soured. 

“Right, shit. Sorry.” Quackity gritted. 

“.......”

They watched as a man head locked Wilbur in a friendly manner, tussling up the curly brown locks, laughing and smiling. 

“......I…..” Karl whispered, barely being audible. “I wasn’t able to finish anything….. On…. you know, Corpse, Valkyrae or……….” 

“Hm,” Sapnap grunted. “Those shitters destroyed what was left when Corpse liberated our experiments.” 

“Wanted to “save face.” They didn’t have much of it in the first place, though.” Dream added. “I’ll be impressed if you do find anything, though.” 

“......I do want to find something,” Karl muttered. “Since…….there’s no tell how much time you have left…..and how much Sapnap has left.” 

“.......yeah.” 

“.....” 

The four of them stood in silence. 

All of them knew that Dream didn’t have much time left. As the hours and days ticked by, Death was starting to grip tighter around Dream’s neck, declining health, powers damaging his organs every time he used them, and the stupid cycle of getting injured minorly. Only for it to turn into a significant wound, his body unable to provide the cells required to heal and kill off any pathogens. 

Sapnap’s time was undetermined. Sure, at the moment, he was healthier than Dream, but how long would that last? Theoricitly, Sapnap, at any given moment, could kneel over and die. But, his powers also had a weakness. His abilities could burn him severely, so there was a chance that he could burn himself to death. 

After all, all the others experimented alongside them had either passed away, been murdered, or killed themselves. All because of the government. 

Whatever they did, it changed them. 

“Haahahahhahaha!” 

But there were still the little things in life that would shadow over that period. 

“I think we should stop them before they give Wilbur another concussion.” 

“Yeah, we should.” 

---------------------------------------------------------

A hand slammed down onto the marbling of wood on a desk. 

“What. The. Fuck. Do. You. mean.” 

“I- I-,” a grunt tripped over his words.

“What. The. Fuck.” a different man with curly blond hair and an emerald was hanging around his neck as he repeated the words. 

“......” the grunt was hesitant to answer his leaders. 

“Repeat what you just said.” another different man replied, one with a golden chain earring, an emerald dangling on the end of one of the chains. 

“We…. tracked him down…. To an m-mansion in the forest-t.” 

“And?” 

“The mani-ison was gone- burn-ned to smothering, an-d one of his found this.” 

And there, the grunt held a necklace with small blue gems, an emerald at the center of it, the necklace damaged by fire and covered in soot. 

“.....” 

The grunt was nervous. He had messed up. 

The man from behind the desk stood up and began to circle the desk, making his way over to the grunt with fists clenched. 

“!!!” the grunt began to back up, hands in front of him, forgetting about the necklace as it dropped to the wine-coloured rug. 

“I-I-’m Sorry- ple-” 

The grunt didn’t even finish as the man clenched his face. 

“I- I- I-” 

“ Quit your blubbering, you piece of SHIT. ” The man harshly ordered as he crushed the grunt's skull, making the grunt scream out in pain. “You had one job. ONE FUCKING JOB.” 

Then, the man began to laugh, one gloved hand still gripping at the skull, the other supporting his face as he laughed into his hand. 

“Oh my GOD!!!” the man screamed. “YOU HAD ONE FUCKING JOB. Guess what that job was? IT WAS KEEPING AN EYE ON “WILLOW” AND MAKING SURE THEY DIDN’T GET YANKED BY AN OUTSIDER! AND GUESS WHAT FUCKING HAPPENED?!?!?!?” 

“GUESS!!!” The man shook the grunt, hand still firmly on the skull. “THEY GOT FUCKED YOINKED!!! AND THEN, YOU FAILED TO REPORT TO ME OR THE OTHERS UNTIL MY FUCKING YOUNGEST WENT TO LOOK FOR HIM!! SO GUESS WHAT HE FOUND??!?!?!?”

“!!-” The grunt was unable to reply, the pressure around his face and skull becoming too much as he gripped his dons arm to make him stop. 

“HE FOUND BLOOD, A RUINED DESK, PAPERS EVERYWHERE, AND SIGNS OF A FUCKING KIDNAPPING!!!! AND WITH THAT DELAY OF NOT REPORTING HIS DISAPPEARANCE, WE COULD HAVE HAD THEM BACK!!!! AND NOT POTENTIALLY DEAD FROM A FIRE OR SOME SHIT???!?!?!” 

The don breathed heavily through his nose. 

“You know what?” He spoke sickeningly. “A person like you shouldn’t be in my faction.” 

Even more, panic spiked in the grunt, he opened his mouth as a protest, but no words came out, the pain of his skull becoming too much. 

“Chat.” The don ordered. “ Attack. ” 

The moment the word “Attack” was spoken, all the shadows lit by the shined chandelier moved towards the grunt. 

When the man with pink hair blinked, the grunt was gone. Blood splattered everywhere, on the dark walls, on the wine-coloured carpet, on the ceiling chandelier, and the don. 

The don breathed heavily in anger. 

“......” 

“Is Willow dead?” the curly blond whispered. 

“......” 

“I’d let not to think that.” the don replied.  “The blaze at the mansion, the grunt mentioned beforehand, was started by someone. Someone killed the charred bodies before being burned. Suggesting that someone had passed through the mansion and into that basement where ‘Willow’s’ necklace was found.” The don sat back down onto his chair, not caring about the blood he was spreading around. 

“So “Willow’s” missing.” 

“........” 

“Let’s just hope that they're still alive and kicking.” 

Chapter Text

Uh- Hi-

Sorry for being ded.

Like really ded-

School has just been- yeah- not that great-

;-;

I haven't abandoned this fic, just don't quite know how to proceed with it???? like, I know the plot, but I don't know how to write it out?

lmao, I can english gud XD

Anyways, sorry if I'm ded for a little longer, schools just been a pain, but summer is nearly herelakjslfkjaslkjgalskjgalksgj

I just need to survive :D

-SakiSakura14

Chapter Text

Uh hi.

It's been a while.

So um.....

Yeah.

The news of Techno just came out.

And I'll be honest.

Im not really comfortable continuing this fic. For a while at least.

I'm sorry.

He was my favourite content creator. The potato war brought me laughter.

Rest in peace Technoblade.

And fuck cancer.

Fuck cancer.

Chapter Text

Okie so, I have decided I would be continuing this fic.

But I don't know if my mind is in the right place, my mental health and family issues (again) drop down to a low, and whenever I hear of Techno or see and media of him, I get sad.

I hope things get better from here.

Updates will vary, as this is really just a fic from the main one I am working on.

Chapter Text

Dream abhorred alcohol. 

He hated how it stank, its fume trying to seduce you into tasting its venom. He hated how people would function after drinking, drunk and egotistical. Fights were sure to break out after people had ingested the poison. Sure, he knew that, in a way, it was slightly better than doing any type of hard drugs and that alcohol was like the elixir to ease one's pain, making the consumer forget their pain and trauma. 

It probably didn’t help that Dream knew this from experience. 

Sapnap, Quackity and occasionally Karl did drink, but they were mindful that Dream loathed alcohol and would not typically drink around him. But that didn’t stop them from dragging out Dream, accusing him of being a “lurker,” and headed towards a bar, and he didn’t have a choice. 

Dream slumped in a corner, watching the sea of people, some intoxicated, some drunk, and some just getting started with the night. He had been here for a bit, probably a couple of hours by now. The three lovebirds had disappeared a while ago, probably to eavesdrop on some conversation, as it was Karl's job to sell all sorts of knowledge, and bars were a hot spot with poison loosening lips. 

The blond hair man sighed. The chatter of all the people made his head ache; he would assumably have to take some of his capsules later. Attempting to distract himself, he stared at his drink. One that he hadn’t touched in a bit. 

A bead of water travelled down his drink, a drink that the bartender called “New Moon,” a drink they described to represent someone trying to turn a new leaf in their life, cutting off alcoholic things and alcohol from their diet. They then proceed to rant about each ingredient in the drink, how it was inspired by how the people in the far east would make their alcohol, except that the glass itself didn’t have any. The drink must have had some sort of sweet grain in it, Dream noted, noticing some petal-like bits lurking at the bottom of the glass.

“You doing okay there?” Sapnap questioned, appearing out of the crowd. His breath smelled like alcohol, Dream noticed.

“I’m fine. I’m having the greatest time of my life.” Dream grunted, banging his head against the worn-out wood. “I want to go.” 

“Oh, come on,” Quackity butt in. “It’s still early.” 

“It’s morning already.” Dream muttered, audible for them to hear.

“Well, it’s better than closing yourself indoors.” Karl pointed out.

“This is not better than sealing me indoors.” Dream restated, raising his head.

“Still, you look like a ghost, like, you've barely been in the sun.” 

“Is there any light here? There literally nothing but smoke here twenty-four seven.”

That fact was partly actual. 

At times, the sky would be covered in a haze of greys and black, blocking out the sun. The smoke came from god knows where, but most knew it was from burnings, houses, and evidence of any crimes. Arson-ed places and, of course, dead bodies. So you couldn’t reprimand anyone for not being the “right shade” of skin colour and being pale. 

“Lighten up. This is better than being indoors.” Quackity huffed, taking a sip of his drink, a light blue colour. It was probably some sort of Thornberry drink. 

“Ah, yes. I love being in a place where people get drunk, where a-holes who can’t control their dicks and hormones, where people get into bar fights and where people fucking die.” 

“........”

“.......”

“Well, someone is a party pooper.” Sapnap remarked, enticing Dream to slam his head back onto the table, making his drink rattle along with the table.” 

“........”

“.......”

“Plus, knowing you, you would have left ages ago, Dream,” Karl commented. “So what’s keeping you?”

Dream frowned as he looked up. Then, for a brief moment, his eyes landed on Wilbur after scanning the crowd for a while.

A couple of his factors came with them to the bar, one of them being Wilbur. Wilbur wasn’t doing much, sipping his drink, listening to the chatter and chuckling. The brunt wore a tight turtleneck, sleeves that only reached slightly above his elbows, his left arm still bandaged. To top it all off, he wore light cargo pants and dark brown high boots. Dream breathed in the sight of him. 

But he might have stared for a little too long because Quackity whistled.

“Someone has a crush~~~” he piped.

“I do not.” Dream scowled, turning back to them.

“You do.” Karl joined in.

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” Quackity bantered.

“I do not.” 

“Yes, you do~~~” Karl sang.

“Shut the fuck up.” Dream snarled. 

“Guys-” 

“You do have a-” 

“ Shut the fuck up. ” Dream glared, from behind his mask, not that Karl could see his eyes at the moment, but Dream knew that Karl knew that he was telling Karl to be quiet.

“.........” Karl clamped his mouth shut, his eyes wide. 

“That was a little far, Karl,” Sapnap commented.

Karl pouted in annoyance.

“You always take his side,” Quackity muttered, finishing his drink. 

Dream felt something inside him being thinned out. 

Typically, Dream considered himself calm, managing to keep a relaxed face for the most part, but sometimes he would just explode. All the raging lava and smoke would burst from him, drown him, and he would sleep while the great rage overtook him. But, of course, this would only come if the people he cared about were hurt or bad-mouthed if he was attacked and lost his cool. 

And his patience was being tested tonight. One, he was in a place he did not want. Second, there was the teasing, when, in his opinion, he DID NOT have a crush on Wilbur, the same man that he and Sapnap found in a basement weeks ago, and Third, that little comment about how Sapnap always took his side.

It was true that Sapnap would mostly take Dream's side, but that was mainly because Sapnap knew Dream better than anyone else. So he knew not to piss Dream off, and signs of where Dream was started to lose it. 

It would take one minor thing for all the lava to come out now. 

A man then proceeded to harshly shove Sapnap from behind, causing the raven's drink to slosh over and spill all over the floor, his front and his shoes. 

“Watch it, jack-ass.” the man grunted, his words slurring, clearly either drunk or highly intoxicated. It seemed like he had been unable to resist the poison this time.  

That was the thing that drove Dream over the edge. 

The next thing he knew, he was standing over the man, who landed in a pool of his blood. Splinters and parts of a table were scattered around him. Glass and the white liquid that Dream had ordered lay on the floor, scattered and discarded. 

It was clear that Dream had thrown the same table he had been sitting at the man, who had been caught off guard. 

He looked at his hands, partly gloved and tucked away, the faint scars on his hands reminding him he had lost control. He was not proud of himself. 

He recognized that he might have had some anger issues, as it most likely stemmed from his childhood, one filled with another different type of poison, distinct from the one that alcohol offered.  

The chatter around him had stopped. Instead, all eyes were on him at his sudden outburst. 

Dream snapped his head up.

“ What? ” he growled. 

Many held up their hands, clearly not wanting to pick a fight with him, and soon enough, the chatter around him continued, although, this time, it was more serene than ever. 

Dream ignored the dirty glare that he was receiving from the staff. The bartender probably would have ended him if looks could kill. 

“I’m going to the toilet.” Dream huffed as he stormed, watching the mouths of his friends open, but he heard none of it as he stormed into the washroom and headed for the sink. 

He let the cool water run as he yanked off his mask, tossed it aside, and splashed his face with the water before looking at himself through the mirror.

Most people would see their faces, ones their DNA gave them, but all Dream saw was a pitch dark void with two glowing green eyes. A doctor told him that it was some sort of mental thing, something that was based on trauma. 

So indeed, he recognized that he had a lot of problems. 

He sighed. He wondered if he would feel better if he rammed his head through the mirror. 

He was so tired.

But the click of the door threw him from his train of thought. 

“Hey, Drea-”

Wilbur had been the one to have opened the door, and he froze, sucking his lips in. 

For a split second, Dream didn’t understand why Wilbur had sucked his lips in, but then he remenbered that he had torn his mask off. 

“Sorry- Sorry- Sorry-” Wilbur stammered, covering his eyes with his free hand and turning to the right as Dream scrambled for his mask. 

“It’s fine.” Dream sighed as he strapped his mask back into his face. “I know it wasn’t intentional.” 

“Can I look now?” Wilbur asked. 

“Yeah.” 

Wilbur turned back to him. 

Dream found a pair of chocolate eyes staring at him, the same pair of eyes that George had. The eyes were gentle and kind but on guard. Dream found himself staring again. Wilbur’s elongated ears twitched before the latter opened his mouth.

“Are you okay or?-” Wilbur nervously asked. “You kinda- went to town on him and beat the living shit out of him.” 

“........” Dream debated for a moment. 

He didn’t know why, but a part of him was screaming at him to open up, tell Wilbur all the shit and fuckery that he had been through, to open up, to call, to cry and let all the trauma out while the other part whispered at him to say that he was fine. 

Deciding not to trauma dump the poor man, consider how the man also had some trauma, as Dream had witnessed him jump into the air, startled by the clinking of chains. So, he listened to the part that whispered to him. 

“ I don’t want to talk about it. ” Dream responded, knowing that the delay in his answer would cast doubt on Wilbur. He expected Wilbur to push and ask what was wrong, but to his surprise, he didn’t. 

“Okay then.” 

Dream threw him a questioning look.

“You don’t want to talk about it, so I’m not going to push you,” Wilbur spoke as his hands slipped behind his neck. 

“.......?” 

“It’s called boundaries, Dreamy,” Wilbur smirked. “Everyone has them.” 

And if that nickname didn’t send a wave of butterflies into his stomach. 

Dream noted that he needed to take his pills once he got back. His body was shutting down on himself, and this stomach getting his weird wave of a fluttering was most likely, he thought, a sign that something was going bad inside his body. 

“We might wanna head back.” Wilbur jerked his head towards the door. “Saw Big Q practically moulding with stress over you.” Wilbur smiled once more. 

When both men stepped out of the washroom, the bar had returned to its original volume, which Dream wasn’t sure if he liked. The chattering was like a swarm of flies buzzing next to his ears, hurting his head. 

Man, he needed his pills. His body decided it was the best time to break and shatter under everything today.

As he made his way over to the three that he had abandoned earlier, he overheard something that he should not have overheard, three people, crowded together, in hushed voices, talking about something. 

“Hey…. did you hear about S.B.I?” 

“You mean how- they-” 

“Yeah.” 

“ Sbi has replaced ‘Willow’” 

Dream eyed the three out of the corner of his eyes before turning back to Wilbur.

His long ears were fidgeting again. 

---------------------------

The news spread fast around the black market as more and more information was leaked; the infamous S.B.I organization had replaced ‘Willow.’ Sure, it was a little cruel by all standards, considering there was another rumour that they had been the oldest biological son. Yet, no one had seen him in the flesh and bone before, so that had yet to be confirmed. 

It was a cruel and harsh world that they dwelled. One that would swallow you whole, rip the bones out of your flesh, and consume you alive, giving you one of the most painful ways to go out of this forsaken world.  

So justifiably, S.B.I had made the right move. 

But some sympathizers disputed that it was an insensitive move, ‘Willow’ serving the S.B.I for years with respect, with a willingness to gamble it all away, just for the group to achieve even more prestige points, outstretch their wings and aim for the government, to torch it all down. After all, the group was anarchists. 

But it was the underground. The lowest of the low. A place where at times, nothing mattered. 

Morals were different for everyone. Ones that grew up in war would think it was customary to fight and slay for reserves that would only last for so long. It was what they did virtually every day, while those had been spoiled rotten and had been on top of the globe since they breathed their first whiff, the atmosphere of the corrupted place they dubbed their motherland.

Things like this happen every day. One moment was a hot scandal about how a mistress slayed their lord for the wife, how they and the latter were in love and tearing down any marks of the lord they had left behind, and next, well, the case of S.B.I.

Karl was currently moulding or trying to ram himself through a solid piece of rock. 

Dream guessed that Karl got it from him since Dream had rammed his head into the table days before.

“Karl?” Dream asked, after observing the man banging his head against the wall for the last couple of minutes. “Are you okay?”

Karl shot Dream a glare. 

“What do you think?” Karl growled.

Dream held his hands up in surrender. 

“Sorry, it’s just been complicated with people breathing down your neck wanting current updates of existing events.” 

“Eh. I kinda got pissed at you in that bar a few days ago, so I deserved that.” 

Karl groaned. 

“I wish I wasn’t here. I wanna sleep.” 

Dream tapped his medical bottle for more pills to spill into his palm.

“ Don’t we all? ” 

Chapter Text

Hi Y'all!

I'm Sorry to do this, But Tortured Soul is going to be on Hiatus! 

I am working on some other Fics that I have not posted yet,

Thank you for your understanding!