Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Niki stepped into the familiar well-light room, short pink hair swinging and cheeks flushed, a collection of notebooks and papers stacked in her arms. She hurried over to the table that her friends sat at, dumping the books onto the polished circular table before sliding into her chair.

“Hello,” Niki greeted the others cheerfully after taking a moment to catch her breath. Her arms ached – those books were heavy, damn it!

“Hi, Niki. Long day?” Philza asked with a sympathetic smile, his clawed, black-tipped fingers drumming on the table. His sleek ebony wings were folded behind him; one of them was still bandaged. That seemed a bit concerning. It had been months since it had gotten injured, right? Niki was pretty sure that it should have healed by now, but she wasn’t an avian and didn’t know all that much about them.

“Yeah,” she confirmed, pushing the thought away. Maybe later. “I was researching Kinoko Kingdom today and even got Karl to lend me a couple of his books on it. It wasn’t very hard; he seems pretty eager to spread the word of his place.”

“Karl seems pretty nice. If he’s willing to tell people a lot about his kingdom, I don’t think that he could have much to hide,” Ranboo added, fidgeting slightly. His slender black-and-white fingers clicked together as he spoke.

Niki nodded. That made sense, after all, and it fit with her assessment of Karl. He didn’t seem the type to deceive people; he appeared too earnest for that…

“Or he might have a lot to hide and he’s trying to overcompensate,” Phil pointed out.

Then again, appearances could be deceiving. Niki knew that well from Wilbur, from everything that had happened with the server.

“That’s definitely a possibility, but we shouldn’t just assume that that’s the case. Either way, at least we know something, even if it’s just surface level,” Niki explained.

Techno nodded. “We’d love to hear what you’ve found out, Niki. Are you willin’ to take up the lead tonight?”

Niki’s face lit up. She still wasn’t used to being an actual member of the Syndicate; in all the groups she had been in in the past, she was treated more like a sidekick than anything else – if not immediately, then eventually. She didn’t dislike it, of course, but it was still a bit unfamiliar. 

“Yes.” Despite her somewhat complicated feelings about it, Niki wasn’t going to pass this opportunity up. “Thank you, Techno. I’ve got some blueprints and a map I drew up myself. Let me just get this out–”

“Of course,” Techno replied. “Take all the time you need, Niki.”

 Niki beamed before spreading her papers and the map across the table and flicking the books open to the relevant pages. Ranboo quickly leaned over to help her organize them, and she flashed him a smile. He really was a nice kid, if a bit nervous and forgetful, and he seemed to be getting better on both of those counts.

Once everything was in order, Niki opened her mouth to start explaining. She didn’t get the chance to do so though, as a sudden sound interrupted her.

Niki froze, her head snapping up toward the ceiling. The noise, a thud, sounded awfully like someone or something landing (though not as loud as she would expect if that was the case). That was…concerning, to say the least.

“What was that?” Niki asked nervously. She was pretty sure she hadn’t imagined the sound; the others seemed just as freaked out as she was.

“It was probably nothin’…” Techno offered. “A mob or somethin’. I can go check–”

“I’m sure it’s fine, mate,” Phil interrupted. “We can go investigate that after the meeting is over, but we should still wrap this up first.”

“Yeah, sure. Sorry, Niki, go ahead,” Techno ceded, gesturing for her to continue.

Niki didn’t have any idea of what was going on, but she didn’t question it and instead turned her attention back to the books and blueprints laid out before her. She glanced up again when smaller, fainter thumping noises continued to sound from above.

Once the sounds stopped, Niki went to speak again, but the moment of stillness was short-lived.

A splash echoed outside the meeting room, somewhere further down the tunnel – the all-too-familiar sound of someone entering. The group immediately were on their feet, blades in hand.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!” Techno demanded, his sword raised.

There was a beat of silence before the light patter of footsteps. Niki waited uneasily, continually readjusting her hold on the hilt of her sword, nerves swirling in her stomach.

Someone appeared in the doorway after a moment. Punz, Niki realized. The server’s mercenary. Them. She had never paid much attention to them; they had never seemed very relevant or important. She’d only now realized that it had been a mistake, and a massive one at that.

“You have exactly one minute to explain yourself, Punz,” Techno stated, his voice monotone and promising violence.

“I needed to talk to you, Technoblade. Still do,” they said, blue eyes scanning the room before flicking back to the man in question.

“Then why break into our meeting room? Why not just go to his house?” Phil inquired, brow furrowed. “And how did you even find us in the first place?”

“Because I needed to talk to the whole Syndicate, not just Technoblade here,” Punz answered. “As for your other question, the more you try to hide something, the more obvious it is. Once I figured out that something was up and took another look, this place wasn’t very hard to find.”

“Talk? Or fight?” Techno asked. He lowered his sword but still held it tightly. “Look. We know you’re a mercenary. How do we know that this isn’t some sort of distraction so whoever your employers are can ambush us?”

Punz swallowed, glancing between the individuals they were faced with. They looked a bit nervous, understandably so, but it seemed like more than just that. Some sort of suppressed desperation, if Niki was reading them right. She wasn’t sure that she was, though.

“I came here alone,” Punz said. “You can check – there’s no one else here.”

“I’ll check,” Phil announced, and disappeared down the tunnel. Niki watched him go for a moment (it seemed dangerous for him to just go alone, especially when the avian only had one life, only had ever had one life) before turning her attention back to Punz.

Techno glared at Punz. “Why do you even want to talk to us?”

“I feel like I should wait for everyone to be here to explain that,” Punz responded.

“Why?” Niki inquired. She felt the need to clarify. “Why do you need everyone to be here?”

“I just don’t want to have to repeat myself, okay? I’d prefer to avoid that,” Punz replied, a speck of impatience creeping into their tone. “I don’t know about you, but I think that that is perfectly reasonable.”

Techno huffed but didn’t say anything.

“Uh, not to interrupt or anything but…Punz’s been pretty nice to me and all that. Just saying,” Ranboo added.

“Thanks for the recommendation, Ranboo,” Punz responded smoothly. “And I feel like I should remind you, Techno, that I helped save your life, back with the Butcher’s Army. I wasn’t the only one involved there, but I was the one who got directly involved and put my life on the line to save yours.”

Phil reappeared, emerging from the darkness of the tunnel. “If there is anyone else, they’re expertly hidden. I couldn’t find anyone.”

“Okay. So now we’re all here, you can finally tell us why you came, Punz,” Techno prompted.

“Right.” Punz took a deep breath. “I’m here to ask for your help, essentially,” they stated.

“Why?” Phil asked. “And why would we help you?”

“That’s what I’m getting to,” Punz replied, their irritation at getting interrupted apparent in their voice. “I need you to help someone else. To get him out of a bad situation. As for why you would help me, you’ll help if you have any semblance of humanity,” Punz paused for a moment to calm down and regain their composure, “and because you owe him a favor.” A favor? Niki was pretty sure that the only one that Techno or any of the others owed a favor to was Dream, and, well, Punz betrayed him. They were the reason that Dream ended up in Pandora’s Vault, after all.

“Who’s he? Who needs our help? Who do we owe a favor?” Ranboo asked, confusion clear in his voice.

Punz sucked in a deep breath, hands tensing and relaxing slightly. “He’s Dream,” they stated, voice a forced neutral.

Niki…didn’t know how to respond to that. Her mind had stopped working, her thoughts repeating over and over again, a neverending cycle. Punz had betrayed Dream, right? Didn’t they get Dream locked in the prison? Then why were they trying to get him out? That didn’t make any sense! Did it?

“The conditions of that prison are…horrible. Inhuman, to be honest. And, just to make it all worse, Quackity’s been torturing him.” Niki’s stomach turned and she paled. “Why?” Punz shrugged, the motion almost casual despite their venomous tone. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter why. All that matters is that it happened, and is still happening, unless someone does something to stop it. So that’s why I’m here, everyone. Happy?”

Niki’s face was an ashy white, all the blood draining away. She…she…that couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be. No one would do something like that, right? Yes, she had heard awful things about Quackity, but even he wouldn’t do that, right? Right? 

(Niki wished she was a better liar so she would believe the words she told herself)

But people had done so many horrible things in the past…they might, just might, do something like that. And with the way Punz talked about it…she could tell that they weren’t lying.

It had to be true. The realization made Niki sick to her stomach and she felt like she was going to throw up. How–how did someone even do that to another person? 

Niki glanced over at Ranboo. His expression matched her own, horror and nausea and a bit of disbelief mixed together. It made her feel a little bit better, that she wasn’t the only person feeling this way and that she wasn’t crazy or something, that her reaction was legitimate and correct, but not much.

Phil’s face was unreadable but his azure eyes were alight with a fury that made Niki want to shy away, but she felt frozen, unable to move or speak or do anything, anything at all.

Techno looked beyond disgusted, eyes wide and hands curled into fists. “That bastard,” he growled. “I knew he was willing to stoop low but I never expected anything that far. Next time I see him, I swear– it’ll be worse than a pickaxe through his teeth, to be sure.

“And don’t tell me to calm down right now, Phil,” Techno snapped. “I know you’re thinking about it, but don’t. This isn’t some small thing that I can ignore, Phil; I’ll kill him, I swear I’ll kill him–”

“I’ll help with that, given the chance,” Punz added, voice even and neutral, no emotion showing.

“Sure you will,” Techno muttered. “Why do you even care? I know you and Dream worked together in the past, but are you really that close?”

“It doesn’t matter how close Dream and I were or whatever. I betrayed him, for Prime’s sake!” Punz exclaimed before lowering their voice. “Yes, I know that was a mistake now, and regret it, after seeing the consequences, but I still did it. What matters is that someone is getting fucking tortured,” the mercenary hissed, their irritation clear. “And that’s why I’m involved in all this!”

Techno raised his hands in surrender. “I get it, all right? I understand. You don’t have to get hissy with me.” He sighed. “So, what should we do about this?”

“Break him out,” Punz stated. “Just break him out.” They sighed, rubbing their temple, their previous anger melting away and being replaced with weariness.

Niki found herself nodding. Breaking Dream out was definitely the solution. Yes, killing Quackity would solve the main problem, but it wouldn’t fix everything, so breaking Dream out it was (and probably killing Quackity sometime afterward, but Dream first).

The problem, though, was actually getting Dream out of Pandora’s Vault. It was considered an impenetrable prison, impossible to get into or out of without permission, and for good reason. Getting Dream out was absolutely easier said than done, and everyone knew it.

“Okay, but how do we get started on that? I don’t know if you’ve heard what I’ve heard–” Techno started.

“I have the blueprints to the prison, okay?” Punz interrupted, their impatience boiling over. “We can use those to get in, but, for the love of Prime, please don’t ask me how I got them.” They managed to cool down relatively quickly and, fortunately, had everything under control by the next time they spoke. “Alternatively, one person could pose  as ‘bait’ to get Sam to let them in and steal his keycards, and they could let everyone else in.”

“The first requires a lot more planning and resources, so the second is probably the better option. Walk us through that,” Techno instructed.

“One person messages Sam, convinces him that they are in trouble and that they need help, and ambushes him once the portal’s open – I’ve perfected a sedative that can knock someone out for a full hour; we can use that. We knock Sam out, maybe kill him, get his keycards, go into the prison, grab Dream, and run,” Punz explained.

“That doesn’t sound too hard,” Niki noted. It really didn’t, but she knew that it would be more complicated than that.

“It’s easier said than done, to be sure, but that sounds…possible, at the very least,” Techno contemplated.

Phil nodded. “But who would get it all started?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Probably Ranboo or Niki,” Punz replied. “We need someone that Sam trusts, first of all, and I don’t think anyone knows that those two,” they gestured to Niki and Ranboo, “are working with you, so he, and everyone else, probably wouldn’t suspect them.”

“It can’t be me, sorry. Apparently, I’ve done some stuff involving the prison when I was enderwalking, so he doesn’t trust me anymore. So, uh, I can’t do it,” Ranboo concluded, fingers fluttering nervously.

“I can do it,” Niki volunteered. Four pairs of eyes turned to her and she almost wilted under the attention before catching herself. “A lot of people underestimate me and think I’m the same person that I used to be, so he’ll probably fall for it too. Plus, I don’t really care about people finding out whose side I’m on. If I go into that place and Dream gets broken out right after, people are going to get suspicious, and you, Ranboo, already have a lot of people in your life you have to take care of, people who would be furious if they knew you were involved in this. But there aren’t many people I’m connected to, basically just Jack, so I’ll do it.”

Punz nodded. “Good. That gets one thing figured out, at least. Now just for the rest.”

Chapter Text

Niki glanced nervously up at the obsidian walls in front of her and then back at the communicator in her hand. She was…taking a chance by doing what she was about to do, to say the least. Niki wasn’t going to back down from it, of course, but she only started to realize exactly how dangerous it all was.

If she messed this up, she wouldn’t get another chance. If she messed this up, she would probably die. It wouldn’t be her last life – in fact, it would be her first – but she still didn’t want to die (would anyone, not including the Syndicate, care? Would they question it? Would they even notice?).

No matter what happened, Niki’s cover would be blown. Even if Sam ended up dying, he still had other lives. It was unlikely that the Syndicate would be able to reach him once he respawned before he told anyone about what had happened and Niki’s involvement. So people would know. Niki felt less worried about that than she had expected. It wasn’t like all that much would change, really. As she had told the rest of the Syndicate and Punz previously, she wasn’t close with many people outside of the Syndicate (it only really was Jack, and maybe Tubbo if you were pushing it, but she was pretty sure that Jack wouldn’t hate her because of this), and, besides the loss of trust, there weren’t many drawbacks to revealing whose side she really was on. It would probably make people a lot  warier of messing with her if they knew she had Technoblade on speed dial, at least.

Okay, that was enough musing. She had a job to do here. Niki quickly typed out a message, the message she was here for, on her communicator, and, after a moment of hesitation, she pressed send.

Niki: SAM

Niki: SAM HELP

Niki: I’M OUTSIDE

Niki: LET ME IN

Niki: PLEASE

Niki’s fingers came to a rest. That…should be enough, right? She…she just had to wait to see if Sam was going to take the bait.

She didn’t have to wait very long. Soon, the portal before her began to glow, violet particles swirling, inviting her to join them. Niki only glanced back once before braving the storm and plunging into the purple light.

All she saw was bright, vibrant purple, for a moment before it abated. Her head spun, dizziness all but overcoming her. Portal travel…wasn’t fun, to say the least.

When Niki’s sight returned, she immediately knew that she was in the prison, even though she had never been there before. There was only one building in the entire SMP made completely of obsidian, after all. The dark, not-completely flat stone floor dug a little bit into her skin from where she had somehow ended up on the floor. But she couldn’t dwell on that right now. She had a job to do, and this is the one place she could do that job.

Niki stumbled to her feet, letting out a small sob. She swayed unsteadily, breathing heavily.

“NIKI?!” Sam somehow appeared out of nowhere and caught Niki before she could fall. Her skin crawled a little bit at the contact (she didn’t want to be touched), but she pushed the sensation away, instead melting into the embrace despite her reservations. “Are you okay?” Sam slowly lowered her to the ground, his eyes scanning her for any injuries.

“What happened? Is everything alright? Are you hurt?” Sam asked, a bit of frantic energy inching into his voice. Rough fingers roamed over her face. Niki wanted to push them away, to get him to stop touching her. She let the syringe slide into her hand, fingers wrapping around the handle.

“Niki?” The girl in question slowly slid her hand toward Sam’s neck. She couldn’t let him notice what she was doing; she couldn’t give him the chance to stop her. “Niki, are you okay?”

Niki gave him a small smile; she didn’t know why she did it, but she did it anyway. “I’m fine, Sam.” The time for subtlety was gone; her fingers shot forward and injected the syringe into his neck.

Sam didn’t seem to notice, somehow. “You are? Are…you fine…Nik…” Niki stared up at him, watching the sedative start to take effect. She hadn’t expected it to work that fast, to be honest. It had only been a few seconds, after all.

“I’m fine.” Niki pulled away from Sam, trying to maneuver her way out of his hold. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Wha…” Sam’s eyelids fluttered closed, the tension draining out of his body, and his body slumped forward, all but trapping her under his weight. It punched the breath out of her lungs, and she lay there stunned for a moment before managing to wiggle her way out. Sam was heavy, Prime; there was no way that she would be able to push him off of her.

Well, that was taken care of, at least. Niki stood up, careful to take the syringe with her (Punz made it very clear that they were simply loaning it to her and wanted it back, along with a report of how it worked and how quickly it took effect), and brushed some non-existent dust off of her clothes. She stepped closer to the levers for the portal, but, before she could get closer, her gaze was drawn to the unconscious body in front of her.

Niki had…mixed feelings about Sam. Before, before she found out about everything, she didn’t really have much of an opinion about him besides her faint dislike of authority and everything (and everyone) authority-related that had emerged during the whole Manburg situation and just grew stronger with New L’Manburg and especially the Syndicate. Despite that, though, Niki was a bit more…generous than she should have been; she thought that he was doing something important, essential, and his actions hadn't really affected her much.

But now, knowing everything that she did now, it was more complicated. Punz didn’t say that Sam was directly involved with…with…with the torture, Niki couldn't dance around it anymore, but he had to be allowing it, and they said that things were already bad before that all got started, so that sure didn’t reflect well on Sam.

Niki sighed and pulled her gaze away from the hybrid. She hurried over to the counter and pulled the center lever, the one that would open the portal, according to Punz.

The portal began to shimmer, springing to life in a flash of purple. Niki pulled out her communicator and typed out a simple message.

Niki: You can come through now. It’s done.

Chapter Text

Niki watched with tired eyes as a flood of messages immediately lit up her communicator screen, the device pinging with each missive. She tried to ignore the sound echoing off the empty space surrounding her.

Ph1lza: Are you okay? Is everything alright?

Techno: Did everything work out? Niki? Are you there?

Ranboo: You okay?

Niki: Yeah. I’m fine. It’s all taken care of.

Techno: Good. We’ll come through in a minute.

Just like he said, figures emerged from the shimmering portal within moments. The sight provided some much-needed reassurance for Niki. She wasn’t alone, there were people with her that would stand with her, that valued her for who she was, and that helped calm her rattled nerves.

Techno was the first to move, starting toward Niki and scanning her for any injuries. “You’re okay?” He blocked her view of the body slumped on the ground, she noticed.

Niki nodded, somewhat shakily, and offered him a smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of movement but ignored it. “Yeah. I’m fine.” She glanced away. “What now?”

“We kill Sam,” Punz stated. Four heads turned toward where they stood next to the creeper hybrid, but they didn’t back down. “It would be a liability not to, get in the way of the whole thing we came here from, so we should just do it now.” After a moment, the mercenary added, “He’s not even on his last life. He’s just going to respawn anyways.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. We can do that, but we need the warden keycard first, y’know, to get this done in the first place,” Techno responded.

Punz nodded sharply, the motion giving away their opinion even when their indifferent expression did not. “I know.” They raised their hand. In between their fingers sat the keycard. “That’s why I have this.” An eyebrow raised.

“Uh, well, that’s good, so, um–can we get going?” A voice spoke up from the back of the room. Ranboo stood fidgeting nervously, his tail curled around his legs.

Techno nodded decisively. “Yes.” His eyes narrowed, flashing red for a moment but the tint quickly disappeared. “Do you want to or should I?” he asked Punz.

“I’d prefer to keep my involvement in this,” Punz gestured vaguely at the prison around them, “a secret as long as I can, so you should.”

“I get that,” Techno responded. “I can’t promise anything, but we can try.” He stepped towards Sam, and Punz took a step back, face blank.

Niki glanced away, and, in doing so, noticed Ranboo doing the same. He was still standing near the portal, his fingers clicking together nervously. She started towards him, trying to make as little noise as she could. It seemed…appropriate, somehow.

Niki bumped Ranboo’s shoulder to get his attention. “Hey.”

“Hi, uh, Niki,” he responded with his usual awkwardness.

“How are you, Ranboo?” she asked.

“Well, I feel like I really should be the one to, uh, be asking you that, y’know, with all this stuff going on, but I’m fine,” Ranboo answered.

“That’s good,” Niki said, smiling, but it felt wrong to in a place like this, waiting for the guillotine to fall on somebody’s neck so they could face the consequences for all of their waiting.

“Yeah…” Ranboo rubbed his neck. A loud thud sounded behind them, and they both flinched.

“Done?” Niki asked, twisting around in time to see the signature gold shimmers of canon death, though not the red of a last life, fade away.

“Yeah. Let’s get going.” Techno swirled around in a flash of red fabric and started down the hallway, Punz hot on his heels – almost by his side at this point – and Phil following behind them. Ranboo shrugged and started after them as well with a slightly apologetic smile aimed toward Niki and she got going as well.

As the group was walking toward the end of the lobby, heading towards the main cell, Niki made sure to flick the lever down, closing the portal behind her. That would be a ridiculously large oversight to keep it open, after all - the whole point of the endeavor was to not have anyone notice what they were doing.

Once they left the lobby, Niki found herself in a maze of obsidian tunnels, careful to not get lost in her surroundings and fall behind the rest of the group. If she did that now, she probably wouldn’t be able to find them again, at least not for a while. It was hard to not stare at the dark, intimidating walls and passages, making her feel small and trapped. 

The others didn’t seem to encounter the same problems, though. She knew that Ranboo had been there before, but he kept his eyes down and shoulders hunched. Niki was pretty sure that the other three hadn’t (well, she was pretty sure that Techno and Phil hadn’t, but she really didn’t know about Punz - anything was possible with them, after all), but they were more focused on getting through this as fast as possible than anything else.

A dark metal door rose up in front of them, and Punz stepped forward, pushing Technoblade back and quickly slotting the keycard into the right place. The door slid open smoothly and the mercenary briskly hurried through with the others trailing behind them, Niki included.

Punz led the way, flicking through the levers, flashing the keycard wherever it was required, indicating for Techno to splash the five with the appropriate potions to get through each part of the prison. Their face was blank, but the tension clear in their body undermined the impression of indifference. The whole time, Niki noticed, Ranboo’s eyebrows were furrowed, evidently confused, but he didn’t say anything while they were still moving.

The next time the group had to stop, the enderman hybrid pulled Niki aside. “Uh, from what I remember of going through here – Sam did – Punz is doing exactly what Sam was doing – like, Punz somehow knows exactly what to do to get through here. And – well, that’s just kind of weird, y’know?”

“I understand what you mean, Ranboo,” Niki reassured him. “That is a bit suspicious. But they’ve probably been here at least once before if we’re going off what they said, so that could be why, and, either way, we can deal with it later, not right now. Not with all this stuff going on,” she added with a nervous smile.

Ranboo nodded. “Yeah, I…I know. We’ll talk about this stuff later, I guess.”

“Mmhmm.” The others started moving again, the more comprehensive identity check completed. “I’m sure it will be fine.” Niki shot Ranboo a comforting smile before going to catch up with the others. Ranboo semi-reluctantly followed after her.

Not long afterward, the group found themselves face-to-face with the wall of lava that marked their objective. Niki could feel the all-but-sweltering heat of the flickering molten rock even from where she was at the back of the line. The glowing orange-red curtain bathed the room in light, the obsidian’s signature purple tint visible for once.

Punz slipped to the back of the room next to the all-important levers, leaving Techno as the leader of the group. He turned around to face the group, hoisting the bag in his grasp and pulling out several fire resistance potions. “Hopefully we won’t actually need these, but we don’t want anyone falling into the lava and dyin’ or anythin’.”

Niki nodded. Phil said, “Exactly, mate.” Ranboo murmured, “Uh, yeah.” Punz simply inclined their head, not saying anything.

“So, here. Have ‘um.” Techno handed the others the potions, keeping one from himself and drinking it. Niki unscrewed the top of the bottle, and, closing her eyes, drank the liquid, grimacing a little at the sharply tangy taste. Potions had been made to be effective, not taste good, after all. A warm, tingling sensation slowly began spreading from her chest to her entire body.

Niki opened her eyes, putting the now-empty bottle away. Just about everyone had also drank theirs, it seemed, and Techno turned towards Punz. “Let’s get goin’.”

“Of course.” And, with that, Punz pulled the lever, and the lava began to fall.

Chapter Text

Niki took a deep breath to try to steady herself, the air warm and stuffy, almost suffocating. It didn’t work very well. The wall of lava was falling slowly, all so slowly (why wouldn’t it speed up so they could get this over with–). Niki saw Ranboo stiffen in the corner of her eye, back straightening.

A moment later, the wall of lava had dropped completely, and Punz cleared their throat, drawing the group’s full attention to them.

“To get across without having to deal with this,” Punz gestured at the lava, “someone’s going to have to stay behind. The bridge will only go across once; it won’t be able to bring us back by itself.”

“I can,” Ranboo immediately offered.

Punz shrugged. “Sure, you can do that. Someone’ll tell you when we’re done, and, when that happens, just pull that lever.” They pointed at the one next to the lever they had just pulled. “It’ll send the bridge back over.”

“Uh, okay. I can do that,” Ranboo said, claws clicking nervously.

“Good.” Punz pushed themself off the wall and started towards the rest of the group. “We should get going.”

“Uh huh,” Techno agreed. “Ranboo, go and pull that lever. Yeah, like that. Everyone else, time to get on the bridge.”

Niki moved almost automatically, managing to get there just in time. Somehow, the four of them managed to fit onto it, but at least they weren’t falling into the lava. That was good.

The lava surrounded them, all but encasing them in a shimmering cocoon of yellow-orange. Niki could feel the heat radiating from the molten rock, could hear the pops and hisses becoming some strange static filling her ears. She tried to ignore it, resisting the urge to shift nervously. It was just lava. It wasn’t alive, it was only going to hurt her if she messed up and touched it.

As they approached the cell, Niki found herself surprised. Despite the bright, bright lava surrounding it, it was as dark as the void, and she could barely see anything in there. Even so, she couldn’t stop herself from staring into the darkness, trying to make something out. Despite that, she still couldn’t see anything. Maybe that was the best, at least for now.

A sudden movement caught her eye. Punz’s hand made a tiny, almost imperceptible twitch toward their sword - they didn’t even seem to notice it, staring straight ahead, face blank, but Niki had. She just decided to ignore it, because they had reached the cell. That took precedence over whatever going on with the mercenary. She could deal with that latter. They had to deal with this now.

Niki stepped off the platform, careful to keep her balance. She could see a bit better now, but it still was hard to see, between the glowing, blinding orange of the lava and the darkness of everything else. 

Her companions had joined her by the time she got a chance to look around. With four people, the small c–box – because it was a box, it was, she didn’t have to force herself to think that it wasn’t – was cramped and claustrophobic. The whole situation wasn’t helped by the overwhelming heat emanating from the lava behind her, constricting her throat and making her sweat bullets.

Niki’s eyes were slowly adjusting to the weird lighting situation, and, as she did, she started noticing things. The walls and floors were all made of obsidian, of course, but she started noticing the red tint coating the dark purple. That…that was concerning. Very, very concerning. She felt almost numb, her mind trying to shy away from the possibility that she had already been told that it was the truth, that was almost certainly true.

Niki would have to be blind to ignore the most concerning part of this grisly tableau. Dream - it had to be him, even if her mind couldn’t recogonize this person as the same one who had destroyed her home not just once but twice - was curled up against the far wall, facing away from them, covered in blood. She wanted (needed) to look away, but she couldn’t, she couldn’t, she couldn’t tear her eyes away, couldn’t stop them from seeking out all the details, the white streaking his hair, the missing fingernails and fingers, the blood everywhere, how was he even still alive– No, no, focus, Niki needed to focus and just look away, but she couldn’t, she had just let this happen - they all had - and she had to face it. Her stomach turned - Prime, how had this happened, how did nobody realize that this was happening-, and she felt like she was going to throw up. She still couldn’t look away. (And that was all without even being able to see his face–)

Techno stepped forward, towards Dream, and that was what finally broke the twisted spell that Niki had fallen under. She glanced away, but she didn’t find anything even close to reassurance in the harsh, blood-coated walls.

Techno checked Dream’s pulse, pressing one finger to his neck. “He’s alive,” Techno declared, turning back to the rest of them, “but just barely. Phil, could you hand me a—”

“We can do that later,” Punz interrupted. Their voice was cold, clipped, professional. It was so far away from the complicated mess of emotions and revulsion and pity and anger and how did this happen who did this that Niki was undergoing that they might as well be on different planets. “We just need him stable.” Technoblade glared at them. “We can’t waste time here.” There was no anger or bitterness in their voice, just cold, rational calmness. Niki would of honestly preferred anger, fury, anything like that; would of preferred any slight show of humanity, any sign that she wasn’t alone, wasn’t overreacting, but how could she be about something like this —

“Fine,” Techno ceded. Nevertheless, he pulled out a potion - the color hard to make out in the strange lighting, but Niki thought it was safe to say that it was probably healing or maybe regen  - and unscrewed the top, pouring it onto some of the worst injuries. After that, he picked Dream up carefully. Even Niki, on the other side of the place, could see that he was trying to avoid the man’s many injuries. “Let’s get going.”

“Good,” Niki hissed. She was glad to get out of this place: out of the darkness constricting them all; out of the heat stealing the very breath from her lungs; out of the blood staining every inch of the obsidian. She pulled out her communicator and quickly typed out a message.

Niki: We’re done, Ran. Can you send the bridge back over in a minute?

Ranboo: Sure. On your cue

Niki put the device away and straightened. She stepped towards the edge and back onto the bridge, trusting the others to follow her lead. She didn’t feel like talking right now. Niki didn’t feel like doing anything right now, or at least anything besides screaming into a bag, but she had to. She couldn’t slow the others down.

The metal shuddered beneath her feet, and the bridge started moving again, back towards the safety of the lobby. Niki didn’t look back (she didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see what had been going on, what her and everyone else’s inaction had caused, and she knew that she had to, later, but not right now, she didn’t think she’d be able to handle any more).

They managed to reach the other side, despite the bridge’s worrying shudders, and there was Ranboo, standing there. Niki didn’t know what she looked like, but it must have been bad, because Ranboo started to reach for her, to ask what happened, before pulling back as if burned. She found that she honestly didn’t care. They just needed to get out of that place and she needed to get the chance to calm down and get her stuff together. Until then, it could wait. They just needed to get out.

And they did. All five of them managed to get out and leave that place behind - start heading home - and, only then, Niki was able to finally let out a deep breath and relax. They were out - this part was over, at least - it was fine. She could calm down now.

Chapter Text

Niki couldn’t stop herself from glancing over her shoulder toward the couch where Techno had set Dream down, even as she busied herself with pulling out potions and bandages and anything else they might need. He was still out of it, still unconscious, which made things a bit…easier, but it wasn’t helping to quell any of their multitude of concerns, her own included. Their journey back had been far from a gentle one, and, even though they did their best to prevent it from irritating his wounds, it definitely couldn’t have felt good for him. And, despite all that, Dream was still completely out of it. If it wasn’t for Phil’s constant reassurances and Techno’s furious refusal, she might even doubt that he was still alive.

Niki forced herself to look away, to focus on what she was supposed to be doing here. Healing potions…Good, there was some regen too. They’d need those, to be sure. She might not be a doctor like Ponk, but she knew when someone was in critical condition and was just barely holding on to life. This was one of those cases.

Niki wished they could use gapples too, and she wished they didn’t have to just use splash potions, but she knew they couldn’t, not until it would stop endangering their patient through an unresponsive gag reflex and an unprotected pharynx. That’d just have to wait until after Dream woke up. Until then, they would have to make do with potions and traditional medicine.

(Niki really wished they didn’t have to)

Healing, healing, healing, regeneration, healing…It didn’t matter what type they were; Niki grabbed them all. (They’d need them all) She twisted around and handed them to Ranboo, hovering nervously at her side, his thin, clawed fingers going click-click-click; the sound almost reminded her of the ticking of the hands of a clock. She handed him the potions she found as well, and the bandages and everything else. They had to pull out all their stops for this; they couldn’t let someone just die, especially when that person was on their last life. It didn’t matter that it was Dream. You had to try, no matter who it was or what they had done. Unfortunately, it seemed that an unfortunate number of people on the server didn’t even have that basic understanding.

Ranboo took it all and hurried away, heading towards the couch. Phil was hovering over there already and took the potions gratefully, immediately turning back to Dream. Punz stepped forward as well to help, taking some of the supplies and getting to work alongside the avian. That raised Niki’s hackles a little - she didn’t trust them, not one bit -, but there wasn’t much she could do about it, and it would probably be fine anyways. Dream needed every speck of help he could get, and it was far from Niki to try to stop him from getting that based on potentially unfounded suspicions. It was fine.

Ranboo stood there for a moment afterwards, clearly hesitating, before Phil noticed and directed him to do something - Niki couldn’t hear quite what it was. Once that was done, Ranboo eagerly stepped away and disappeared through one of the doors.

Niki turned back to the chest that she had been going through, not surprised when she found it almost empty. She thought she had been pretty thorough. Either way, she grabbed what was left and turned, about to go into one of the other rooms to get more supplies, when she came face-to-face with Technoblade.

“Oh, hi, Techno,” Niki greeted, her face brightening,

“Hullo. He’s still alive?”

“I think so.”

“Good. We don’t want the homeless green Teletubby to die on us,” he commented, stone-faced. Niki’s lips quirked upwards at that particular nickname and its deadpan delivery, but she had heard it enough to not laugh like she used to. Even if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t now, not in these circumstances. Right now, even the thought of humor felt sacrilegious, profane, disrespectful. It wasn’t appropriate. Niki didn’t know how Techno could stand it. Speaking of him, he nodded his head towards the potions crowding both of their arms, and he spoke again. “These should be enough, so let’s get going.”

Niki nodded and the two made their way over towards the couch and their companions hovering over it, their hands already splattered with red from their ministrations. She could reasonably guess that their hands would be coated with blood by the time they were done.

“How’s he doin’?” Techno asked bluntly as a conversation starter.

“Not good, mate.” Phil grimaced. “Potions aren’t going to be enough for this, I’m pretty sure.”

“They’ll still help,” Punz commented, still detached, still professional. There was no trace of antagonism or argument in their voice. Niki had managed to calm down a little from before (the way back had taken some time, something they all wished wasn’t true but might have been slightly helpful, at least for Niki’s temper), so she didn’t quite know how to feel about them. “Either way, there’s a bunch of broken bones that need to be taken care of, and he’ll definitely need stitches for some of this.”

“We can do that,” Techno replied.

“Good. Prime, this is a mess – Techno, mate, could you please go get me some thread, silk if we have it, and a needle? Oh, and some water too; rubbing alcohol if we have any. This is probably going to take a while.”

“Actually, I can,” Niki interjected. “I think you might be a bit more helpful than I could over here,” she explained with a slight smile. She wasn’t a doctor, even if she did have some basic first-aid knowledge. Admittedly, Techno wasn’t either, but he had a few hundred years of hard-earned medical knowledge on her.

Techno shrugged. “Sure.”

“Thank you, Niki. I don’t know what we would do without you,” Phil said, smiling gratefully. Niki was just happy she could help. There had been too many times where she hadn’t gotten that opportunity, and, fewer than those but still significant, times where she had the opportunity and passed it up. Even worse, she had chosen not to help in some of those.

Niki ignored her thoughts, her regrets, all that she had done and what they had all done, and just smiled and turned to leave, to help. It wasn’t a betrayal. It was just to help.

***

(After she left the room, Niki heard lowered voices behind her. The first one was familiar, and so was the third (she could guess that they were Phil and Techno respectively), but the other was unfamiliar - assumingly Punz.

“Nice, isn’t she?”

“I suppose.” Niki could tell that they followed that up with something else, but she couldn’t make it out.

“Sure; it’s not a bad idea.” The voice shifted. Nothing changed about the words themselves, or the tone, but she could tell it was time to stop going around and get done to business. “So what do you think we’ll have to do?” By then, Niki had gotten far enough away for the sounds to become indistinct, inaudible. She didn’t mind)

***

Niki hovered by the couch again, back from the depths of the compound, and occasionally glanced down at Phil’s steady, unflinching hands, the needle held between those fingers just quick, silver flashes. It wasn’t that the subject matter itself disturbed her – you couldn’t afford to be squeamish here –, but it was the circumstances. Niki had to either stop reminding herself of the whole horror of the situation or do something about it. She hadn’t figured out which one she was going to do yet, and, as a result, kept jumping between the two, which was probably worse but she still didn’t know what to do. 

To do something, to– accept this, that meant she had to confront the fact that they had all messed up, that they had allowed this to happen, and that someone would even do this in the first place. That this was the world she was living in. These were the stakes. This was a possibility. At least one person besides the perpetrator allowed this to happen, knowing exactly what was going to happen, and managed to justify it. That someone, someone on this server, someone who she might know and count as a friend, might be able to look at what was going on and say it was okay. That they might just look the other way. 

(But wasn’t that what they all had already done? Just looked away because it was easier and because it was prettier? Because the grass was greener and there were flowers blooming over there?)

(Niki wished she could tell herself that nobody would ever be that blind but she couldn’t. She knew how willfully ignorant the server could be)

Or, even worse, they wouldn’t be blind at all and, aware of everything happening– aware of the atrocities, they would look them all in the eyes and say that he deserved it. No one deserved that. Niki knew that, and she thought it was rather obvious, but she could see the server disagreeing with her on that for whatever stupid reason they could come up with.

But she couldn’t just ignore the situation. It would be the absolute worst decision she could make, and she wasn’t going to do it, but even if she wanted to, it was far too late for that. Either way, Dream was owed people trying to help him and not overlook his plight.

Niki’s communicator rang, ending her train of thought and bringing her back to reality. She glanced down at it and saw the words Jack Manifold: Accept Call? flash onto the screen. Shit. She was busy, but it was probably serious if Jack was calling, and like hell was she going to push him away even more than she already had. Not her best day, admittedly, but she was trying to make it up to him. She didn’t do that stuff.

“If you guys don’t mind, I’m just going to go outside for a minute…” Niki started before being interrupted by the communicator’s buzzing. “Actually, I might have to take care of some stuff, so, if I have to leave and do that, bye.”

Nobody moved to stop her or seemed to mind – Phil even absent-mindedly bid her goodbye, looking up from his patient for just a second to do so. Niki decided to take her leave and make for the door, her mind already grasping for an answer to why Jack was calling. Please don’t let it be about the nukes, she prayed. Please don’t let it be about Dream. And with a little more hesitation: Please let it be about Tommy.

Chapter Text

Quackity sighed and picked up his glass, watching the amber liquid swish around. Sam was still blowing up his communicator with messages, but Quackity ignored them. He already knew what they would say, and he already knew that he was fucked. He didn’t need to know any fucking more than that.

Dream escaped and Sam lost a life and Niki had something to do with it, but did Quackity really care? No! Dream was out and that was the most important thing because it meant Quackity was going to end up dead one way or another! That was the important thing here, not whatever weirdness was going on with Sam.

(Sam had one fucking job and he still didn’t manage to do that much!)

So, Quackity knew he was going to die. The details didn’t matter, especially after six shots of Scotch. He didn’t accept it, oh no, but it was hard to argue with the facts. At this point, he was just trying to drown himself in booze and waiting. Yeah, not the best idea, but could you really blame him? Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong, and there didn’t seem to be a lot that he could do about it.

Quackity raised the shot glass to his lips and knocked back the whiskey. The alcohol burned as it went down. Prime, his head hurt. He hated everything. He wanted a cigarette. (He wanted those rings around his neck to mean something besides bitterness and heartbreak. He wanted his fiances back)

The sound of glass shattering broke Quackity out of his thoughts. Wide-eyed and rattled, he spun around to look for the source of the noise, coming face-to-face with Technoblade.

Fuck.

The hulking man wore his signature skull mask beneath a golden crown, a netherite axe swung across his back. His red cape billowed out behind him, and Quackity was suddenly reminded of his title: the Blood God. He certainly looked like one.

It all just made Quackity angrier. How dare Technoblade show up now (when he had all the reasons in the fucking world to), when Quackity was this much of a mess, when everything was already so horrible. (Because the Blade was always the herald of Quackity’s destruction, of pain, of death, of the worst moments of Quackity’s life)

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Quackity snarled. Well, that was an unexpected turn of events, and not one he was partially happy about. (He needed a way out. He needed to get out of here. He wasn’t going to die again)

“I thought I might pay you a visit.” Techno shrugged. The avian could tell he was grinning under that mask of his. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Ah. So it was going to be like that. (With all his past and all his mistakes shoved in his fucking face) Well, there was no way Quackity was going to put up with that. “Oh, really? To what do I owe the pleasure?” He spread his hands mockingly, dipping into a half-bow.

“I think you already know why,” The Blade answered, purposely glancing at the communicator lying abandoned on the table.

Quackity did, of course. He wasn’t the sort of idiot who would see [Awesamdude was slain by Technoblade using The Axe of Peace] and not put two and two together. Of course, Techno was coming after him. He already knew that would happen.

(It still didn’t quell his fear, the instinctive panic running through his veins, from his last confrontation with the Blade. The scar over his eye and half-darkened vision was proof enough that it hadn’t gone well)

But Quackity didn’t say any of that. That wouldn’t get him anywhere. Just keep talking. He was stalling, fighting for time, even if he didn’t how that’d get him in a better fucking situation. (He didn’t want to die; he didn’t want to die again, for a third time)

“Oh? Is that so?” Quackity asked, forcing his tone into smooth, cold professionalism for a moment before abandoning it to his anger. “Would you care to enlighten me?” he growled.

“Nah. I think it’s pretty obvious, and, if you don’t, too bad for you,” Technoblade responded.

“And you think you know everything going on here? Really?” Quackity questioned. Keep talking. Don’t let anyone see that you’re scared, and you might as fucking well not be.

“Eh, it seems pretty clear-cut to me. Seems like you’re projecting a bit there.”

“You think I’m the one projecting here–Okay, whatever.” Quackity stepped back a little, ignoring the urge to rub his temples or reach for his now-empty glass. Keep a cool head. Don’t freak out. No matter what you do, don’t panic. “If you’re so sure about it, good for you.”

“Well, it seems like we’re on the same page then,” the Blade commented, casually pulling his axe off his back.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Quackity protested immediately, “we don’t have to go there.” The yet went unsaid. “I’m just trying to make small talk here. To be nice.”

Technoblade rolled his eyes. “Yeah, we all know how good you are at that.”

Quackity didn’t know why, but that broke something in him. He blamed all the alcohol from earlier, the bottled-up rage boiling within him, the fear coursing through his veins. “You don’t get to fucking say that,” Quackity snarled, stabbing his finger at Technoblade’s face. “You don’t get to say that after what you’ve done. You don’t know me, and don’t. Pretend. To.”

The Blade scoffed. “I doubt there’s a single person on this server who actually knows you, Quackity. That’s the problem. But enough with that,” he remarked with a lazy smile. “You were going to say something about what’s actually going on?”

Quackity despised Technoblade. His easy grace, his casual power, the way he was toying with him. Maybe that was what loosened his tongue. Maybe that was what made him stop deflecting. Maybe that was what made him confront what they both knew was the reason any of this happened. “Well, you seem to think it’s a pretty open-and-shut case. Maybe you should look into it a bit more. Doesn’t it seem a bit suspicious?”

“Eh, it’s kinda sus, but everything here is,” the Blade dismissed. It just made Quackity angrier.

“Oh yeah? What, Punz just found out what the hell we were up to and ran straight to you?” Quackity asked.

“Why’d you think it was Punz?” Technoblade responded, his eyes narrowing through the slits in his mask. “Could be anyone really. Hell, we could of just figured it out ourselves.”

It was Quackity’s turn to laugh. “Yeah right. The timing’s way too convenient for it not to be them who told you.”

“Yeah?”

Quackity couldn’t stop talking, even though he knew he had to, that he was saying too much, giving too much away at the sight of the littlest piece of bait possible. “A jailbreak the day after we got them involved? Yeah, it could totally be fucking anyone.”

“Let’s say you’re right and it was Punz. So what?” Technoblade asked casually. “Why does it matter?”

“How did you think they knew about it? That they just snuck in one day or some shit? We invited them in. We told them what we were doing. Better yet, we showed them what we were doing.”

“ ‘We’?” the Blade repeated, eyes narrowed.

“Me and Sam, duh. What, you thought it was just me?” Quackity asked flippantly. If you thought you did, you’re an idiot, and you killed him anyways, so you obviously don’t think that. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. But what does matter is that I can bet there’s a couple things Punz didn’t tell you.”

“And those would be?” Technoblade questioned. That was enough of an invitation for Quackity.

“Did you think they just sat back and watched?” Quackity laughed at the Blade’s expression, or at least what he could gather from those few exposed portions. “Of course not. I handed them the sword, the shears, everything, and they took it. They could of said no, but they didn’t.”

“They wouldn’t,” the Blade stated, like it was obvious, simply unthinkable, completely impossible. Like people would never do that, no matter what. Well, he was in for a rude awakening if he thought that.

“They did,” Quackity responded triumphantly. “They did, and I can betcha that they didn’t tell you about that, did they?”

“Why should I believe you?” Technoblade asked. “Sorry to inform you, but you haven’t had exactly the best track record with telling the truth, and I’m pretty sure Punz wouldn’t tell me the same story if I asked them.”

Quackity rolled his eyes. “Of course. Well, I guess the only course of action would be to ask Sam - who you can’t because you killed him - and, y’know, the recipient of it all.”

“If you are seriously suggesting asking Dream–”

“Why not? He seems like the only person who knew what happened that you would actually trust, Techno.” Quackity shrugged. “So why not?”

“Do you even realize what you did to him–” the Blade demanded.

“Yes! That’s why I fucking did it, Technoblade! That’s why I did it! Of course, I know!” Quackity took a minute to steady himself. “Of course, I fucking know. Why did you think I did it?”

“I thought you wanted the Revival Book,” the Blade responded, tone neutral. Emotionless. Sensible. None of this was sensible. None of it had ever been.

(Quackity was just starting to realize that he might have drunk too much)

Quackity scoffed. “I did. But you don’t understand how fucking impossible that is. I figured that out halfway through and kept going because I liked how it felt. I liked having that power. And what’s so bad about that?”

“What’s so bad about that is that you tortured someone, Quackity,” Technoblade responded, stressing his words. Quackity hated how he was talking down to him. He knew what he did; he didn’t have to have someone explain that to him with tiny words.

“And could you really say he didn’t deserve it?” Quackity inquired.

“Yes,” the Blade hissed. “We’ve both done so much worse than Dream ever did. Hell, most of the server has! And do you see people running around cutting everyone else open? No!”

“Oh Prime, don’t be like that,” Quackity snapped. “What I did was a fucking public service, and if you don’t agree with that, fuck you.”

“I think you’re forgetting who’s the one with the axe here, Quackity,” Technoblade stated.

Quackity laughed at that. “You’re just proving my point, Techno. The only way to get anything done here is violence. After all, the only universal language is violence, right?”

“Don’t throw my own quotes in my face, it’s bad form. Come up with your own trademark already.” The Blade rolled his eyes. “Oh, I guess you were a bit too busy for that.” His disgust was palpable.

“Don’t say it like you wouldn’t do it if you had to,” Quackity commented.

“But that’s the thing – you didn’t have to. You could of just not done any of it. No one was forcing you to, Quackity,” the other man growled.

Quackity rolled his eyes. “Somebody had to, and I decided to be that person. Fucking sue me.”

“I can’t do that, but I guess your life would work instead,” the Blade said simply.

“That’s fucking unnecessary, Technoblade,” Quackity snapped. “Put that axe away.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“If you wanted to do that, you should of done it earlier,” Quackity hissed, trying to stay calm and failing. Panic was running through him, keeping him talking. He wasn’t in control here anymore. He had to get out of here, talk the Blade down from his murderous intentions, not die.

(And wasn’t that what he was good at? Talking and lying and convincing people to do things they knew they shouldn’t? Not dying, or at least not staying dead. Always getting back up when he really should just stay down)

“Maybe I should of. Maybe I wanted to see what you’d say. Maybe I wanted to hear how you’d justify it. Maybe I just wanted to catch up a little bit with my good friend. ” The irony in the Blade’s voice was thick as molasses, poisoning the air around it.

“Well good-fucking-y for you, you got that opportunity.”

“I did. And maybe I’m done with that now. Maybe I’d like to stop talking to you now.”

“You can! You fucking can! You don’t have to–” You don’t have to kill me.

“I do,” the Blade responded casually, examining his fingernails. His eyes drifted up to meet Quackity’s. “And that’s the whole reason I came here, so I think I should get that over with right about now. I don’t like letting debts go unfulfilled.” 

And, with that, Technoblade raised the axe and exploded into motion, a red blur speeding towards him. Quackity opened his mouth (to say something, to refute that, to protest, to beg) and that was the last thing he ever did.

Everything went black.

Chapter Text

Punz idly brushed a strand of hair away from Dream’s face, watching him carefully. No sound burst the bubble of stillness surrounding them, even though they knew that Philza was upstairs taking care of something. Then again, the winged man was the only one besides them still in the house after Niki’s taken leave and Ranboo’s hasty exit, so maybe the silence made perfect sense with that in mind.

Technoblade was gone too, and Punz could guess why. Sam still had a life or two left, and they hadn’t done a damn thing to Quackity yet, so both of those things would have to be remedied. Punz appreciated it. They needed those two taken care of (there needed to be consequences; they couldn’t just do what they had done and get away with it), and they didn’t have to show themself obviously or create a paper (or communicator) trail this way. They could still keep their cover up. (Dream would appreciate it)

Speaking of Dream, Punz and Phil had managed to get him stable, at the very least; they’d done the most they could, but it was still a gamble. Until he woke up, they couldn’t be sure.

Of course, that wasn’t as much of a probably as it could of been. Dream knew the risks. They knew something like this could happen. They had a failsafe. (Punz was the failsafe) Still, Punz hoped it wouldn’t come to that. They didn’t want the Syndicate to know about that, not if it wasn’t necessary. They didn’t need to know.

(They didn’t want anyone else to find out. They didn’t want anyone to get suspicious and put the pieces together. And, almost even worse than that, they didn’t want to see Dream die, even if they knew that it wouldn’t be the end)

After Phil and Punz had finished doing the most they could, they’d carried Dream into one of the spare bedrooms and went about putting everything away: empty potion bottles, unused bandages, the needles and thread they’d used for the stitches. Neither of them was comfortable with leaving Dream alone, so Punz settled down in the bedroom while Phil went off to make sure everything was okay.

(They wouldn’t want it the other way around – Punz never had any particular bad experiences with Philza, but they hadn’t had many good ones either, and they didn’t get this far by trusting every person who crossed their path and whose goals momentarily aligned with theirs. If they had a choice in the matter, the angel of death would never be alone with Dream)

Dream was still unconscious but seemed relatively okay, though Punz was still on edge (they were in someone else’s house, at someone else’s mercy, already having to reveal too much and offer too many puzzle pieces, and so was Dream, and that terrified them, just a little bit), and that meant Punz didn’t have anything to do. That meant they had time to think. (That meant they had time to worry)

Punz carefully examined Dream’s face, not quite sure what they were looking for. They saw the white scars (old or healed; they were betting on the second option because he sure as hell didn’t have those the last time they’d met up and from what they’d seen it seemed pretty likely that his minders didn’t have the patience to let things heal on their own, too impatient and chomping on the bit to create more) crisscrossing his skin and the faint but still visible freckles, the pale blond hair – now more platinum than the sun-kissed color, second only to gold in its vibrance, they remembered so well – resting on (not sticking to) his face (because they had worked most of the blood out of it already). It was a small thing, they knew, but it was the least they could do.

Punz leaned back in their chair and sighed, wondering, just for a moment, how it had come to this. They jolted up when they heard a soft gasp and came face to face with wide blown-open (panicked, desperate) green eyes.

“Punz?”

“Dream? Are you okay?” they asked, reaching forwards for a moment before he flinched away and they pulled back.

“I’m–I’m fine. Where are we?” Dream was tense, eyes darting from place to place, swallowing nervously.

“We’re at Technoblade’s house.” The Syndicate was formed after Dream was put in Pandora, so Punz decided not to make things more complicated for him. “After– that happened, I went to Techno to get his help breaking you out.”

Dream relaxed a little bit at that. “Okay…So we’re out? You’re fine?”

Punz nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine. I–they didn’t hurt me.”

“Good,” Dream whispered, mostly to himself. “Does anyone know you’re involved?”

“Technoblade does, obviously; so does Philza, Niki, Ranboo, ‘cause they helped too. Sam and Quackity probably suspect that I was somehow, but I don’t think that’ll be an issue. Technoblade went off to take care of them.” Dream laughed softly at that, wincing a little. “Nobody else should know, and–”

“Does anyone know that you’re working with me?” Dream asked urgently, leaning forwards towards them. It looked painful, and Punz pushed down on his chest lightly.

“Don’t strain yourself. You’re already hurt enough,” they told him. “And, no, they don’t. I just told the Syndicate – that’s Technoblade, Phil, Niki, and Ranboo, by the way – that I found out what was going on and went to them.”

Dream lay back down. “Fine.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Thank you. For–for not telling them.”

“Of course. I’d never tell them that.” They’d put in far too much time and effort and pain to give up the charade now.

“So. Um, tell me if I’ve got something wrong: you showed up, you left, you went to Techno, he and his friends broke me out, and now we’re both in Techno’s house,” Dream repeated.

“Just about,” Punz agreed. That was about right. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Dream stated, his face empty, void of any emotion.

Punz raised an eyebrow. They’d been expecting that answer, but it really wasn’t helpful. “On a scale of one to ten, how painful is it?”

Dream scrunched up his face. “Four?” he guessed.

If Punz had to guess, and they did, a four from Dream meant a six or seven from any regular person with pain receptors, but they knew his pain tolerance was extremely likely to have been upped during his stay at Pandora’s Vault. Either way, a four was bad. “Yeah?”

Dream curled in on himself a little bit. “I mean, I don’t really know–”

“No, it’s okay, Dream. It’s just…a bit concerning, that’s all,” Punz reassured him. “Where does it hurt most?” they asked (even though they knew it was irrelevant, that they already knew the answer from what they had seen, that they didn’t want the answer because they didn’t want to be reminded that they had hurt him too).

“Um, ribs and left leg,” Dream answered, shifting slightly.

“Okay,” Punz responded. “Phil and I did the best we could do, but potions can’t fix everything.” They didn’t add what they were thinking, that they had seen how many potions were used in one day and could only imagine how much Dream had been exposed to over the course of what seemed like many visits, and they knew that extreme potion use could create a tolerance to them or a dependency on them. They didn’t want that to happen to Dream, but it was a pretty fair guess that it was too late.

“You did what you could.” Dream closed his eyes and hummed. They couldn’t keep dancing around the elephant in the room, and Punz knew Dream wouldn’t bring it up, so it would have to be them.

“Dream, Dream, I’m sorry–”

“Don’t be,” Dream snapped. “You did what you had to do. Hurt anyone who you have to, including me, remember? And you did that, and you kept yourself safe. That’s what matters. It was the only option.”

Punz rubbed their face. “But I still hurt you, Dream. I still hurt you, man.”

Dream reached out and grasped their wrist, grip weak, hands shaky. Punz let him pull their hand down. “It was the only thing you could do. If you didn’t, it would of just made everything worse. You did the best you could.” Dream’s expression hardened, the earlier panic-anger-fear wiping off his face as it became a mask once again.“If it was my choice, I would of done the same thing.”

That moment, Punz realized it was a losing battle. They didn’t want to have to deal with this right now. The wound was too fresh, for both of them. “Yeah. I’m still…sorry that it had to happen. That the situation happened in the first place.”

“Fine,” Dream agreed, eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry too.” They could tell he was swallowing back protests, ways that it was good that it happened, that it helped them in some twisted way, that this whole horrible farce was worth it, but at least he was trying to meet them halfway.

He was trying, and that was enough for Punz. They nodded. “We’re both sorry.”

Neither of them said anything for a moment before Dream pulled himself upright and said, in an urgent (almost desperate, his intentions so obvious and vulnerable to the both of them and they knew how much he must hate it) voice, “Punz–what’s been going on? Tell me about it. Just–just do it, please. I want to know.”

Punz knew he just wanted to talk about something, anything, else. They still indulged him. No use pushing now. It was fine.

“People are grouping up again. I already mentioned the Syndicate, but they’re basically an anarchist book club hanging out and keeping an eye on all of the governments on the server. There’s also Snowchester – which is run by Tubbo, and they have fucking nukes, if you can believe it–”

Chapter Text

“How’d it go?” Phil asked as Technoblade stepped through the door. “Got everything taken care of?” He grinned.

“Close enough,” Techno grunted as he brushed snow off his cape. “Where’s Dream?”

Phil’s smile dimmed a little at that, and that meant Chat automatically began yelling at Techno. Their emotional attachment to Philza was getting concerning, honestly.

sad birdy :(

Stop being so mean!

Dadza!!!!!!!!!!!11!!!111!

The bird is here!

“Dream’s in the spare bedroom,” Phil informed him. “You know the one.” Techno did, and he stepped towards where he knew the room was, but Phil apparently wasn’t done. “He’s with Punz.”

Those three little words shattered the fragile calm Techno had been keeping up to that point. He’s with Punz. Excuse him, who the fuck decided that? “What, did you think they just sat back and watched?” What if it was already too late and it was just some trap and everything they had all done was for nothing because he was already dead–

oh no he’s quoting the roast duck

Snap out of it! Dadza knows what he’s doing!

I mean, I think it’s pretty clear that Quack Quack lied, so it’s really nothing to freak out about

Has fucking nobody here actually watched Punz’s stream? Or Quackity’s or Sam’s or anyone’s?

we were busy! did you?

No, but–

Glass houses and throwing stones everyone!

“Thanks a lot, Chat,” Techno muttered. They did help distract him from his spiraling thoughts a little. Little benefits, but that was what mattered. Also thankfully, Phil only raised an eyebrow when he heard Techno talking to himself. This whole situation was normal for them at this point.

Techno sighed and shook his head a bit. “Thanks, Phil. Chat was just being a little rowdy.”

“It’s fine, mate,” Phil reassured him. “You gonna go say hi? Talk to our new roomie?”

“Yeah,” Techno agreed. He couldn’t make any conclusions about anything if he just stood around moping about that what ifs and probablys and could bes. He had to get going. “Thanks for telling me, Phil.”

“Anytime, mate,” Phil responded, smiling.

Techno left Phil where he was and started down the hallway to the spare bedroom. It didn’t take him long to get there, and he was about to open the door, his hand already on the doorknob, when he heard laughter from inside. He hesitated for a moment but pushed the door open regardless.

For a split second, Techno saw Punz sitting in a chair besides the bed, their mouth moving but Techno unable to make out the words, while Dream laughed – fully laughed –, propped up against the bedframe. Then Punz noticed him, and any mirth drained from them. Their mouth pulled into a tight line and they straightened, stiffening. Dream seemed to notice their change of mood and stopped laughing, pulling in on himself, his eyes flickering up to Techno, cautious and reserved (and scared) – hedging his bets.

“Technoblade,” Punz acknowledged, nodded briefly. Their voice was even, emotionless, clipped. “If you two don’t mind, I’ll take my leave here.” They stood perfunctorily and crossed the room to the door – Techno quickly moved aside to stop blocking the door and let them leave –, not looking back. They closed the door behind them.

(They hadn’t glanced at Dream once after Techno arrived)

SUS SUS SUS

SUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

BLOOD BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

Okay what the hell is going on there

Oooooooo are they dating?

wtf are you talking about

Doesn’t it feel like they’re dating and they don’t want anyone to know?

uh, no?

Shut shut shut shut your fucking mouths please

Techno rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about that, Dream. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t,” Dream responded. His eyes were bright brilliant green. Techno suddenly realized that he didn’t think he ever saw Dream’s eyes before. “You came back?”

“Yeah, just had to take care of a couple of things,” Techno told him.

“Sam and Quackity?” Dream asked, smiling crookedly. “You don’t have to dance around it; Punz already brought me up to speed.”

“Well, that was nice of them,” Techno said, ignoring Chat’s screaming behind his eyes.

‘Scuse me, WHAT?

okay so now we have to deal with whatever shit the mercenary came up with

Language!

shut up it’s not cool when it’s not badboyhalo!

I like how we automatically assumed that they lied

yeah they could’ve just told the truth

Why would they do that?

why would they not?
E

E

E

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

SHUT UP WE’RE TRYING TO HAVE A CONVERSATION HERE

“What did they tell you about?” he asked, sitting down next to Dream.

“Just–just that you guys broke me out, uh, and that you went off to kill Quackity and Sam,” Dream answered. “Again.”

“I mean, you can’t honestly expect me not to, can you? That’s basically me job at this point. You really should start paying me a salary, y’know? Oh, and rent too, but I think we might be able wave that because you’re homeless and don’t have anywhere else to go–”

“Shut up!” Dream exclaimed. “I–I have a house, you know!”

“Yeah, yeah, your totally not imaginary house that no one else has seen.” Techno rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I totally believe you there, Dream, you definitely have a house, it just goes to another school–”

“Ugh, why do I even try–” Dream asked, pulling his arms up to cover his face.

“Because it’s fun. For me, at least. No idea about you though,” Techno answered. “Soooo. How are things going?”

YOO TECHNOSOF

TECHNOMOM

aww he cares :>

Honestly who is surprised

Are we going to forget that Dream’s literally a war criminal?

I mean Technoblade is too

Wasn’t there a whole arc about that?

yeah there was the butcher army

THEY LITERALLY BOTH ARE WE DON’T CARE

hes a teletuby and homeless i don’t care what crimes hes done

Will y’all shut up?!!!!!!!!!!!

Dream looked away. “Fine.”

“Yeah?” Techno raised an eyebrow. “Look, I’m not here to pry, and I’m sounding way too much like a mom right now, I know, you don’t have to tell me, chat, but I just want to check in. Everything’s okay? Like, with P–”

“It’s fine, okay?” Dream glared at Techno. “There’s nothing going on between me and Punz. They betrayed me and felt bad and went to you guys, and now that other stuff’s over. I don’t care , Techno. I don’t want you to, I don’t know, try to force me not to talk to them because you don’t trust them or make them apologize or whatever. It’s all in the past, and I’m turning over a new leaf here. I don’t need you to interfere and try to help .” The last word was practically snarled.

See why I think they are dating?

PLEASE just shut up

Okay, so there was obviously a lot going on there. "You sure? 'Cause it kind of sounds like you care, Dream."

If looks could kill, Techno would be long dead. "Yes, I'm sure, Techno. Thank you for asking because I apparently didn't make that clear." Dream sighed and looked away. "Look, I don't want to talk about it. Can we just move on?"

Techno shrugged. “I guess. What do you want to talk about, then?”

Dream pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know, anything? Like…just tell me about what you’ve been doing. What you’ve been up to, with, uh, like the Syndicate or whatever? Just talk to me about anything but, like, whatever happened in the last 24 hours or so.”

“Okay, Dream, okay. No talking about the prison break or Punz or whatever, got it.” Techno grinned. “I’ve basically just been chillin’, Dream. Trying to retire and that stuff. Started up the Syndicate, y’know? It’s just me and Phil and Niki and Ranboo. Oh, and Harpocrates, but even we don’t know who that guy is. They mostly just send us books and stuff.” He shrugged. “They still have good info, so we don’t really care. If they wanted us to know who they were, they wouldn’t go through all this effort to be anonymous, and here in the Syndicate we respect each other’s decisions.”

Dream rolled his eyes. “How revolutionary,” he commented snidely.

“Oh, you have no idea. Apparently, it’s an idea that no one on this server has ever heard of.” Once again, Technoblade was glad that Chat had managed to pull themselves together enough to quiet down and not interrupt the conversation. Chat was a mercurial thing, he knew; one minute they hated Dream and the next they loved him, wanted everyone who had ever hurt him to die and demanded Punz’s blood just for maybe being involved. (Okay, maybe Techno felt that way too, but it was different) He was their “babygirl” or “little meow meow”, even; Techno wasn’t going to try to dissect that whole thing. And that was before even getting into the fact that Chat was not one harmonious entity and the constant debates and yelling in his brain seemed to show that opinion was mixed. Anyways. Conversation going on right now. Brain please shut up.

Dream scoffed. “I can believe that much, Techno. Guess stuff hasn’t changed much, has it?”

“Dream, you wouldn’t believe it. Everyone here is so much of an idiot,” Techno lamented. “Except for Niki and Phil, of course, because they’re special.”

“And Ranboo?”

“I mean, he’s a good kid, keeps on trying, but he doesn’t always make the best decisions, y’know? He wasn’t exactly keen on breaking you out of prison, now that I think about it.”

This didn’t seem like much a surprise to Dream. His expression didn’t shift even as he glanced away from Techno for a moment. “Yeah. I can see that.”

“Yeahhhhhhhhhh. That might be a bit of an issue, but…” Techno shrugged. “I’m sure we can work it out.”

Dream nodded. “I guess. But didn’t you say you weren’t going to talk about that sort of stuff?”

“Yeah, yeah, I did, I guess it was a bit of false advertising, clickbait even–”

“I don’t want to hear about it, Techno. Can we please just move on? For real this time?” The force of his tone was enough to make Techno look, actually look, at Dream. The pain in his eyes, hiding underneath a thin layer of annoyance, surprised him.

“Uh, sure. I’ve been doing a lot of farming recently – you should set the greenhouse I set up–”

“You have a greenhouse? In the middle of the Arctic?”

“I mean, how else are you supposed to grow crops in this weather? It’s pretty hard to till ice and snow, y’know.”

“Actually, no, I don’t, because I’ve never been stupid enough to try to farm in an arctic biome–”

he has a point you know

yeah yeah he does

You guys are only realizing this now?

Okay, now even Chat was turning on him. That was a bad sign. “You’re just jealous that you didn’t think of it first, Dream.”

“What, no, I’m not jealous of being the only one dumb enough to do something like that–”

“Says the man who doesn’t even have a house,” Techno rebuted, raising one eyebrow.

“I–How is that relevant right now?”

He didn’t say he didn’t have a house 👀

homeless reveal pog??

HOMELESS

EEEEEEEEEEEEEE

green teletuby <3

look at him he’s flustered!

“Look, look, Chat, he doesn’t even try to deny it, he knows–”

“Oh my god shut up, Techno!”

Chapter Text

Philza glanced over at the hallway Techno had gone down just in time to catch Punz slipping out of the door, eyes dark. Ah. So Techno had kicked them out. It wasn’t all that surprising, honestly; maybe Phil should of seen this coming after all, but he hadn’t been considering that much at the time.

“Hey, mate!” Phil called out to Punz. If he had gotten them into that situation, at least he could try to make it up to them. “Tea?” he asked, gesturing to the tea kettle set on the table in front of him. Phil had been bored and waiting for something to happen, so he made some tea and set himself down in the best spot for eavesdropping and seeing what people were up to. It wasn’t like he had much better to do, or that there was even much he could do, to be honest (besides waiting and worrying; what happened now was up to fate and Kristen, wonderful woman that she was).

Punz shrugged. “Sure, man.” They came over to the table, carefully sitting down across from him. Phil poured them a cup of jasmine tea and noticed how tense their shoulders were. That was going to be a lot of back pain later, but, hey, not his problem. “Thanks.”

“So, what was that all about?” Phil asked over his own cup, as casually as he could manage. He just wanted to have a conversation right now, even though he knew Techno wasn’t much of a fan of them. It was good to have both sides of the story, after all.

Punz shrugged, their tea untouched. “Dream woke up and Techno didn’t trust me near him, so I left. It’s really not that complicated, dude.” Their voice was casual, unbothered, but the tension gave them away.

Phil grimaced. “That sucks, mate, I’m sorry. Tech’s been in an awful mood ever since he’s gotten back.”

“You wouldn’t think he would be, would you?” Punz asked, irritation coloring their tone for a moment. “Quackity’s gone now, gone gone, and Sam’s knocked down a life again. Seems like a total success to me.”

“I don’t know. Really, I don’t,” he added when Punz raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m not the right person to ask; I’ve barely spoken ten words to him since he got back. He didn’t exactly seem in a talking mood.” Phil shrugged. “We’re in the same boat here, y’know, I can’t help you much.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Punz agreed. “Still sucks, man.” They stirred their tea idly but didn’t drink it. “So what do you think about all this?”

“I think it’s a fucking mess, mate,” Phil told them. “Prime, I’ve known Sam for a while, but I still didn’t think he’d allow that. And Quackity too–it’s a good thing Techno killed him then or else I’d be coming after him too.” He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I thought things might get better after all the outright wars were over. I guess I was wrong, mate.”

“We were all wrong, dude. It’s just…a disaster.” Phil saw how Punz’s fingers tightened on their mug. “Just an absolute disaster, man. None of us saw it coming, and, well, everything thought it would be over after he was locked up.” They scowled down at their cup. “How wrong we were.”

Phil reached over to rest a hand on Punz’s. They were warm, almost feverish, a sharp contrast against the coldness of Phil’s talons, and he knew they weren’t supposed to run that hot. “But now we have a chance to do something, right? We know, and that means we can act. We can help. And we already have, and it turned out pretty well, right? It’s not all bad.” Phil smiled at them. “And that’s only possible because you came to us, so thank you, even if Techno is being too grouchy to acknowledge that, okay?”

Punz shrugged again, indifferent. They took a sip of tea, and Phil watched them relax slightly. That was a good sign, he supposed. “I guess. It’s still not great, man.”

“None of what happened was under your control, mate. It’s not your fault,” Phil told them. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Punz responded, a bit more subdued. Their fingers crept towards the cup before they stopped themself. “How about we talk about something else, man? This isn’t exactly the happiest topic.”

“Okay. I can’t imagine you got a great look around this place, y’know, with everything going on, mate–”

“I didn’t,” they added. “Trust me, man, I wasn't exactly thinking straight.” Punz's following chuckle was transparently self-deprecating.

“I can understand that,” Phil told them, ignoring the little impulse at they’re young and they’re scared and you have to do something. Punz wasn’t Wilbur, they weren’t Phil’s kid, they were an adult and doing more or less okay, even if they were a bit rattled. It wasn’t his problem. “We really should give you mates a tour around this place once stuff calms down a little, really, but we were just talking about this place. We’ve set up a whole farm in this place, so we’re pretty damn self-sufficient up here, and Techno’s gotten into his animal husbandry arc and everything.”

Punz whistled, low and respecting. “Up here in this place? That’s really fucking impressive, dude.” They wrapped their hands tighter around their cup. "And you know who to look out for and all that, right?"

"We've been trying to keep up with what everyone's been up to," Phil answered evenly. "It helps keep us aware and not have to deal with that shit. And it lets us know when some government gets too full of themselves and we have to do something about it. We wouldn't be much of an anarchist book club if we didn't, would we?"

"Oh, absolutely not," Punz told him. "You do have some good stuff going on here, ya know? I've never been much of a fan of governments and splitting up the land myself, to tell the truth."

Phil hadn't heard about that before, actually. "Why?"

"It just leads to more conflict and bloodshed and stuff, and it's not like I'm not a fan of that, that's how I make money, but still. Doesn't sound like a good investment." Punz shrugged. "And I totally get the information stuff. I've been trying to keep an eye out on everything myself, but, hey, there's only so much one person can do, right?"

Phil chuckled. "You're right about that. Drink your tea before it gets cold, mate.”

Punz rolled their eyes, but they still took an obedient sip at his behest. “Of course, dude. We wouldn’t want that to happen, would we?”

“Oh, no, never,” Phil smiled, wrapping his cold talons around his own mug. “Lukewarm tea is horrible, mate.”

“What, have you had a lot of experience with it?” Punz asked, a smile tugging at the corners of their mouth.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Phil told him. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you’ve drank a lot of cold tea.”

“I don’t think most people live as long as you do, dude,” Punz countered, still slightly cautious, still talking like they were walking on eggshells. Well, that wouldn’t do.

“Well, good for them,” Phil grumbled, subconsciously ruffling the feathers of his uninjured wing as he spoke. He knew not to try to move the other one through way too many attempts and just forgetting that it was hurt in the first place. “They don’t have to deal with all of this shit then.”

“What, are your bones aching, old man?” Punz teased.

“Why are you all little shits,” Phil huffed. “This is literally the reason I moved and you guys are still making my life hell.”

“You can never escape people younger than you, dude. They’ll always follow you.” The smile didn’t quite disappear as Punz’s eyes narrowed, but it came close. “I thought you moved because of the house arrest and execution, Philza.”

“Well, that too, mate,” Phil ceded. “That kind of just goes without saying, y’know.” He let a little bit of venom slip into his tone; if they didn’t want to talk about their shit, they shouldn’t ask him about his.

“I just wanted to make sure.” Punz’s tone was neutral, diplomatic, but Phil could make out just the barest hint of apology beneath everything else. “It’s usually not a good idea to just assume things around here, man. It just fucks everything up, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” Phil acknowledged. “You think people will actually be reasonable and not try to kill anyone because of the potential threat they could pose, but that would be too easy, wouldn’t it, mate?”

Punz grimaced. “I don’t think anyone’s been actually reasonable for a pretty long time, man. Maybe even ever; it’s not like everything just got bad when we showed up. It was already like this, and the wars won’t stop for fucking anything, dude.” They paused for a moment, taking a sip of tea, before continuing, the voice softer this time. “I’m sorry that I killed your son.”

“Really?” Phil asked skeptically. He’d never known regret to be much of a staple for Punz, but, hey, he didn’t know a lot about them. A couple days ago, if someone asked him to describe Punz, all he would be able or willing to say was that they were a mercenary.

“Kinda. Like, I got paid for it and that was great, but he was your son, man,” Punz stressed, voice low. “That couldn’t of been very fun for you.”

“Wilbur’s…complicated, y’know?” Phil shifted uncomfortably. “The whole thing’s complicated. And it’s not like I haven’t done the same thing, either, mate,” he joked, pushing down the where did I go wrong, there had to be something I could of done instead, I killed him, even if he asked me to, he told me about this place and how petty the conflicts are and how everything is peaceful and when I showed up everything was terrible, he came back but he came back different, wrong. Punz didn’t need to know about any of that, there was already enough going on with him.

“Yeah, you did,” Punz responded, apparently ignoring Phil’s tiny little spiral but still aware enough to not push the issue. “But who hasn’t gotten their hands a bit dirty? And he came back eventually, man. Just took him a little while.”

“I suppose,” Phil agreed. Time to pivot the conversation. It didn’t have to be good, he didn’t think Punz would call him out on him, but he still had to do it in the first place. “So, are you staying here tonight, mate?”

Punz shrugged again, nonchalant. Like Phil had expected, they didn’t mention the sudden shift, just going with it instead. “Yeah? It’s not like I have a lot of options, man.”

“You could go home,” Phil suggested. It was the simplest solution, even if he was pretty sure they weren’t going to take it. There wasn't really any reason they couldn't go home; nobody seemed to know they were involved, and it wasn't like they were already on the run. They had a perfectly safe place to go.

“And have to deal with everyone asking me if I heard about the big bad prison escape and the fact that Dream was ‘on the loose’ now and what I was going to do about it and how I’d protect myself.” The last phrase was more of a snarl than anything else, and Phil could taste the bitterness in their voice. “Yeah, hell no.”

“So that’s not an option,” Phil concluded, packing Punz’s spite away for later contemplation. There was something there, to be sure, and he could tell they weren’t quite being honest about what it was, but right now he was having a nice ol’ conversation.

“No, it isn’t, dude. Got any spare couches or anything?” Punz asked flippantly, reclining in their seat.

“There’s the attic, if you want, mate; you can just plop a bed down in there,” Phil answered. “We might end up moving Dream up there for the plausible deniability, but for now it’s fine.”

“Are you going for the plausible deniability? I mean, Technoblade just went out to kill Quackity, and we have two Sam death messages on record for him. And Sam’s still alive, even if he is knocked down two lives.” A tiny, minuscule amount of satisfaction worked its way into Punz’s voice. “He can still tell people about it, so I think it’s pretty fucking obvious .”

“That’s why I said might , mate. We’re probably not going to do that, considering what Techno’s been up to,” Phil reassured them.

“Sounds fine to me,” Punz agreed. “So, want to show me that attic, man?”

“Sure. We can clean that all,” Phil gestured to the table, “later. Follow me, mate.” Once they were up, Punz did just that, and Phil started towards the ladder leading upwards, mercenary in tow. He could tell this was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

Technoblade looked up when Phil cracked the door open, instinctively tensing before relaxing the second he spotted who it was. The avian’s hair shined like gold with light spilling in, his hat discarded somewhere in the other room. It wouldn’t be the first time. “Hullo, Phil.”

“Can I come in, mate?” Phil asked, still peeking in from behind the door. He looked tired, maybe a bit worse for wear, but that was it. They were all tired; they’d had a busy twenty-four hours, after all.

“Sure,” Techno answered. “Just keep your voice down.”

Phil glanced over to the bed next to Techno’s chair and the teletubby all but hidden under the covers, blessedly asleep. “Of course,” he agreed amicably. “Don’t worry about it.”

sleepy

UwU

awwwww

you are all terrible i hate it

then leave

no

“Thank you,” Techno told him, very pointedly ignoring Chat, as Phil settled down on top of the chest across from the other man. Bird habits, Techno guessed. He didn’t judge. It also meant they needed fewer chairs, which was also a plus.

“So, how’s everything, mate?” Phil asked. “Like, with–”

“Dream’s okay,” Techno said. “We just talked for a little bit and he fell asleep.” He gestured towards the bed again.

rivals duo pog

i swear everyone’s a dream apologist now stop it 

look he’s cute okay?

everyone here is morally reprehensible and i love it

Phil smiled at him gently. “It’s probably a good sign if he’s willing to go to sleep around you. And rest’s necessary for recovery anyways.”

Techno had not considered that, actually. He probably should have. “I thought so. So how was what you were doing?”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about, Techno,” Phil answered, shifting slightly as he spoke. “Something’s going on with Punz, and they’re sure as hell not telling us what it is.”

oh shit!

Is this really new information?

wow theres consequences for being untrustworthy who would of thought so

they’re dating aren’t they

That is such a stupid idea no

Techno felt his mood crash immediately. He knew better than to trust them, he knew having them anywhere near Dream was a terrible idea, but, even so, he really didn’t want to have to deal with them right now. “They’re a mercenary, Phil. They’re trying to play all the sides and right now they think we’re the ones who are goin’ win.”

“Are you sure about that, mate?” Phil asked. “I’m not sure that the reality lines up with that.”

the fuck phil

we can trust this guy c’mon just give him a listen

WELL OBVIOUSLY WE CANT

well maybe he knows something we don’t!

doesn’t matter this is still bad!

WILL YOU ALL FUCKING CALM DOWN PLEASE

NO WE GOTTA KILL THAT GUY

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Please. Shut the fuck up. For once in your stupid life.

Techno’s head hurt. He was tired and Chat was yelling and he didn’t want to deal with this and an ember of anger sparked to life in his chest. He didn’t care what Punz said during their chat with Phil, that still didn’t make up for that. ( “-did you think they just sat back and-” ) “Why do you think it’s not that?”

“I was talking with them, and, well, I’m not sure about everything but I think it’s a bit more complicated than that,” Phil told him. “I think they’re honestly upset about what happened, and that’s certainly interesting, mate, because I’m pretty sure they’re trying to not let us know that.” Phil smiled at that, but it stopped far before it reached his eyes. “Say, if you were trying to get on our good side by doing this, wouldn’t you want us to think you’re furious about what happened? Why would you try to hide that?”

they’re so dating

WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS

god i hate people.

“I don’t know, Phil, but that doesn’t mean we should trust them. They’re hiding somethin’, but I hardly think that it’s goin’ to be good for us.” Techno glanced away from Phil, clenching his jaw with hands slowly curling into fists.

Phil sighed sadly, reaching out a hand to Techno. “We can give them a chance, Techno. Just try to figure out their secret and see what happens. There’s something here, and we need to find out what, mate.”

“And if I’m right and they betray us?” Techno asked even as the bloom of anger withered in his chest. Phil was right, or was calm and sensible enough to make it seem like he was.

“We can take them,” Phil answered. He smiled, shaking his head softly before looking back at Technoblade. “You worry too much, mate.”

“I wonder why,” Techno grumbled. “So we just do nothin’?”

bad plan bad plan

uh huh and you’re a master tactician right?

“We try to help Dream and we keep a close eye on Punz, mate. We just aren’t immediately hostile and constantly assuming the worst.” Phil pressed his lips together when he saw the look on Techno’s face. “They’ve already done a lot for us, Techno. They didn’t have to do any of it, and they wouldn’t be this involved if they weren’t actually trying to help. Plus,” Phil added, a malicious grin on his face, “if they were a spy, wouldn’t it be better if we made them think we had no idea?”

“Fine, you have a point there, Phil,” Techno conceded. They’d probably be less worried about slipping up then, and Techno and Phil would be able to get their hands on more solid proof than otherwise. “We still shouldn’t trust them.”

“That’s fine with me,” Phil shrugged. “We just have to have a little faith, mate.” He smiled at Techno. “Hey, maybe it’ll pay out. We can just send them away if it doesn’t.”

Or kill them

Yes, yes, that was the implication, Chat, Techno knew already, they didn’t have to remind him. “Well, thanks for telling me about it, Phil.”

“Are you going to stay here all night?” Phil asked tiredly, sounding like he already knew the answer.

“Yeah. Gotta keep an eye on this guy,” Techno answered, glancing down at Dream. “Make sure everythin’ is okay.”

Phil chuckled. “I’ll leave you to it! Just come get me if something happens.”

“Sure, I’ll get you if our other roomie does something weird,” Techno promised, a smile creeping its way onto his face despite his best efforts.

“Just making sure.” Phil got up and started towards the door. “Don’t forget to get some sleep too, mate!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’ll take a nap or somethin’,” Techno agreed, fifty percent sure that he wasn’t going to sleep tonight. It wasn’t lying if there was a chance you might actually do what you said you would.

yeah i’m pretty sure that’s lying

Well, Chat was wrong a lot of stuff, he reminded himself as Phil left. Killing everyone was almost never the best option, and lying was when you had the complete and utter intention to go back on what you said. Therefore, this was not lying. Techno could classify it as stretching the truth, but not lying.

fine it’s not lying

Having won that argument with Chat, Techno got up to grab a random book from the bookshelf before retreating back to his chair. He’d rather have a good time reading and keeping an eye on Dream than have a bad time keeping an eye on Dream and listening to Chat panic and call him Technosoft, or have an even worse time listening to Chat try to figure out whatever Punz’s deal was and decide that they were either dating Dream or lying about absolutely everything and therefore he should kill them. Yeah, a book sounded like a good idea right now. He was just going to have a nice time with his book and sleeping best friend/wanted criminal. That was it.

Chapter Text

Light had barely began to stream in through the curtains and Niki was already crawling out of bed, abandoning her third attempt at sleep to get up and start getting ready. She groggily got up, rubbing her eyes as she began to look through her wardrobe for something to wear. Before she did much, though, she stopped for a moment to check her communicator, conveniently located besides her bed, the blue light from the screen illuminating her face, the only source of light besides what slipped through the curtained windows. The worried texts she responded to with short messages about her being okay, and she ignored the other ones. She can respond to those later. She'd already had to deal with this yesterday, returning from Techno's to "discover" Dream's escape and convince everyone Sam had already talked to that she wasn't involved, she was just nearby or had talked to Sam recently and he was getting confused or some shit. It was surprisingly easy; Niki supposed that Sam wasn't exactly the most trusted person around, not after Ponk's amputation and Tommy's death, but she still expected it to be a little harder. Well, that just meant that she’d done her job well before; it’s not like most people considered her a threat. There’s a reason she tried to keep it that way, and, well, it seemed to have worked.

She couldn't bring herself to lie to Jack as well, though, and, even if she had, he wouldn't have believed her. He knew her too well.

"You did it, didn't you?" Jack had asked when they were finally alone, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the server. There wasn’t any anger in his eyes, at least none that she could see.

"What?"

"You broke Dream out," he stated easily, confidently. He already knew the answer to that question. She wasn’t going to be able to deny it, so she didn’t try. Not when it was just him.

"I had help," Niki answered. She hadn't quite told him about the Syndicate yet, but he knew enough for now. Enough to know that she had done it, or at least had been part of it, or could in the first place. Niki had tried very hard to be innocuous, innocent, not someone that would be suspected. It hadn’t taken long for him to see through that disguise, even though it hadn't really been a disguise at first, was it? She must have, because it all felt so natural, instinctive, to her, and because she already had so much to work with, but it was hard to remember what she was like, back in the L'Manburg days, besides being weaker than she was now. It was hard to remember much about what it had been like then, admittedly. Niki could only hope 'boo's memory loss wasn't rubbing off on her.

"Why did you do it?" Jack propped his face up with one hand, staring at her listlessly. It wasn’t even surprise, or betrayal, or anything else Niki had come to expect. Just faint disapproval.

"We found out he was getting tortured, and we had to do something." It was true. She didn’t get anything from lying now.

"For Dream?" Jack asked, grimacing. "Look, I get it, you're nice, but it's not worth it. Niki, we're both barely getting by. And you want to open yourself up to more danger by doing that?"

"Why does it matter? It's not like I can take it back now," Niki snapped. A second later, she softened her voice; she wasn't trying to make Jack into an enemy here. "Jack, what's done is done. And I don't regret it."

"I just don't think this is going to turn out well," Jack told her, shifting to cross his arms over his chest. "I don't want you to get hurt. Dying hurts. A lot."

Niki smiled weakly. She’d never died before, but she could imagine what it would be like. She knew that Jack had. They all did. "I know. Just trust me on this, okay? We're the rocket duo."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Jack grumbled, but he was smiling now. "Here to cause chaos, always sticking together."

"That's the spirit!" Niki punched him in the shoulder. "C'mon, we've got more people we have to talk to. They’ll never let us forget it if we don’t."

But that was last night, not now. Niki stumbled through her home, the lights flickering on with a spark of redstone as she went through the rooms, grabbing everything she had to as she did. She’d been stress-baking last night, so she grabbed a pastry to eat as she got ready and threw the rest in a bag to take with her when she went up north. She’d figure it out later. She’d figure all of it out later. She wasn’t awake enough right now to do it before then.

Niki took her horse by the reigns and led her out of the stable. She couldn't go straight to the cabins - her performance yesterday wasn't good enough to avoid being watched, not with the whole server on high alert - but she could after enough meandering to make her actions look random. Make anyone watching her lose interest and hopefully move on. Then she could report back, and check on how Dream was doing. But maybe that was just her guilty conscious talking; she trusted the others (with one exception), but she still had to check, just to quiet the whispers of you let this happen, you might as well have done it to him. It wasn’t true, she knew none of it was true, but…

She just had to go there and check. She had make sure.

***

A few visits to idealistic meadows later, Niki slowed her horse to a walk as she approached the cabins, the world suddenly winter. She dismounted and started crunching through the snow, leading her horse behind her, as she starts towards the stable. She’s just going to get her horse inside and warm before she goes in the house. Right. Nikki’s was happy that she decided to wear her tall boots today.

It doesn’t take her long to lead her horse into an empty stall and unbridle it, making sure to fill its trow with hay before she can do anything else. The wood was lit by lanterns dotting the rafters that cast yellow light throughout the room despite the empty blue of the arctic sky outside, and it feels…warm. Safe. And she knew intellectually that she was, no one here would ever hurt her (but she couldn’t be sure with the mercenary in the house, she didn’t have any assurances about their loyalty besides them being here in the first place, and maybe that’s why the stable felt safe, because she’s never seen them here and knew they wouldn’t have the opportunity while she was gone, had more pressing things to do and act and worry about), but she still just felt a little better here, alone in a place she knew well, one where nothing had changed and nothing even will and no one will ever come in and intrude. It was a silly feeling, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. She felt it fill her as she desperately glanced around the stalls, looking for something else to do, anything, just so she wouldn’t have to leave and confront whatever it was in the house that she didn’t want to see.

(Maybe it was Punz, sure, the unreliable, untrustworthy mercenary, the one she seemed to misjudge, the one that was anything but harmless, but maybe it was Dream, a remnant fear of who he had been and what he had done, dynamite and explosions and Niki’s home crumbling down around her, or perhaps it was this version of him, this sick scared one that had found itself in that house right there, the one she had indirectly helped to become like this)

Niki wasn't stalling. She wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t. That wasn't something she did. She didn’t have any reason to be stalling, even if she was. She was just being nice. It wasn’t even that late. It was still morning, mostly, even if it didn't feel like it with the bitter chill and clouded sky outside. She could do this. It wasn’t hard.

Niki made sure to brush down her horse before she went inside. Just to be nice.

Chapter Text

The door to the cabin only creaked a little when she pushed it open and stepped inside, shaking the remnants of snow off of her boots. Somehow the little bit of noise was enough for Phil to appear, hair disheveled and smile solidly secured on his face. Judging by the faint dark circles under his eyes, he hadn’t slept since any of this went down. For a moment, she felt guilty for leaving him to deal with this, but she’d hardly be more helpful there than out gathering rumors and ensuring her own assumed innocence. No one would be able to sleep without any idea of the way the tides were turning beyond them, without knowing if they should be expecting an attack or if shifts would just be unnecessary stress. She had a role to play here, just like the rest of them.

“Niki!” Philza greeted her, eyes bright under the lanternlight despite her observations. “We didn’t know when you were going to be back.”

Niki rolled her eyes fondly, pushing past the old man. “I wasn’t going to leave you guys, Phil. I just had to take care of a couple things first.”

“And you got that done?” he asked as he led her into the house and sat down on the couch. She sat on the other side of the sofa, flipping a few strands of pink hair out of her face. One of them had gotten in her mouth. Bleh.

“Yep,” Niki responded. She ran her hand over the top of the couch, tracing the seams with the tips of her fingers. It was done for now, at least. Thank goodness. “It’s done.”

“Good. And may I ask what exactly those things were ?” Phil asked with a thin smile, leaning backward in an attempt to get more comfortable, tucking his wings in behind him. His eyes were sharp even as he relaxed, and they never left her face.

Niki huffed. “Oh, just the normal. Saying hi to some friends, trying to look surprised when everyone finds out the stuff you already know, keeping up appearances, that sort of stuff.” She grinned at him. “I might have had time to make a few treats too, if you’re interested.”

Phil’s whole face lit up at that. “You don’t say!”

“It’s the lemon tarts again,” Niki told him, pulling out the bag of pastries and setting them between herself and Phil. “I know how much you love them.”

“Well, they are quite wonderful,” Phil commented, taking a tart from the bag before sobering and glancing back at her. “So. What’s it like?”

“Basically just what you’d expect.” Niki shrugged. Phil began eating the pastry as she spoke, taking tiny bites behind a shielding hand. “Everything’s a mess, everyone’s freaking out, people are just throwing blame at anyone they can. They thought Eryn might be in on it, if you can believe it.”

“The little shit?” Phil asked, one eyebrow raised and crumbs dotting his mouth. “I thought kids couldn’t do anything wrong.”

“Apparently, this is an exception. Sam started going off at him after he asked if Dream really was that bad and then everyone thought that he might have had something to do with the jailbreak.” Niki sighed. “It’s a mess–I know that I already said that, but, really, it is, Phil. Tommy had a whole freakout, Sam and Sapnap are on the warpath, so that’s not fun.” She leaned back for a moment before adding with a smile, “A lot of people think it was Wilbur, actually.”

“They do?” And Niki realized, suddenly, that she wasn’t chatting with Technoblade or warning Ranboo away from Wilbur, that it was Phil, Wilbur’s father. She hadn’t meant to–

“Just a little,” she backtracked, getting Phil a tight smile and pushing the pouch of sweets closer to him. She should really get some little plates out to put everything on; she’d do it after they got over this part, she resolved.

“Niki, it’s fine,” Phil reassured her, and there was the guilt again even as he gestured for her to continue. “I want to know. You can keep going.”

Niki nodded and went on with the explanation, still trying to phrase it the best she could for him.“After Dream brought him–back, after, he was very vocal about feeling grateful about it. He was really weird about it, so it’s not that big of a jump to assume he’d want to break his ‘saver’,” Niki really tried to keep the scorn out of her voice, she did, and her hands stayed firmly at her sides, “out of jail. But having more candidates is probably a good thing for us, so if people want to think it’s him, they can go ahead and do it.”

“That’s reasonable,” Phil agreed mildly, a strange film coating his eyes that only began to fade once she stopped talking. It felt like he was more looking through her than looking at her until it was gone, and Niki shivered. She was being a fucking idiot, why didn’t she think – “Anything else?”

“Not much. Most people think it was Techno because of the favor, but…” Niki paused, glancing at the rest of the cabin. “They’re not sure. There’s a few who think it couldn’t be him because the prison’s in one piece and a sizable number thinking that it’s strange that it’s undamaged. Some people think it’s because of you talked him into doing something more subtle–”

Phil chuckled at that, blue eyes shining. “Not very likely,” he commented. “I would be all for the ‘complete destruction’ plan if we had the resources and time for that.”

“–and Sam thinks that it’s because his prison was just too good.” Niki rolled her eyes, still grinning as she did. She ignored the tiny little we should have known I should have known we should have done something sooner twisting inside her chest at the name. They’d already done what they could. They couldn’t go back now. “But we should be pretty much in the clear as long as we just don’t let everyone know that we did it and don’t let anyone find him with us. I mean, the whole server won’t be after us.”

“And they don’t know about you?” Phil asked, holding his half-eaten tart with one hand.

Niki shook her head. “No one thought Ranboo had anything to do with it either, just that he freaked out and ran off when he found out. I don’t think anyone thinks Punz is involved; at least, no one voiced any of that.”

“That’s probably for the best, then.” Phil finished his pastry and dusted his fingers off before looking her in the eyes. “They’re helpful, even if it’s just for now. No one’s seen them do anything, so we shouldn’t try to do anything yet. We’ll see how it goes and act from there.”

Niki didn’t think that Punz would do anything; it was just a niggling suspicion at the back of her mind that she would probably ignore. She could get over it. It would be okay. Either way, she nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Thanks, Niki.” Phil smiled at her, blue eyes sparkling, even as he inched towards the rest of the tarts. “Anything else?”

“What, like small talk?” Niki asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s a bit of a strange time for that, Phil.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s bad,” Phil defended, eyes widened in an expression of mock-astonishment and hand settled dramatically on his chest.

“Fine,” Niki ceded, getting up from the couch. “But I’m getting you a plate first so that you won’t get crumbs everywhere.”

“That would be wonderful, Niki,” Phil called after her as she started towards the kitchen, rolling her eyes as she did.

Niki stepped into the kitchen and up to one of the cabinets, pulling out a few of the littlest dishes she could find. Well, the littlest dishes besides the teacup saucers, but she didn’t count those. Even as she took the plates with steady hands, Niki couldn’t stop herself from wondering about how silent the cabin had been when she arrived, and still were, and the other people she knew were here but hadn’t seen hide or hair of yet. She wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. Possibly both. Knowing her luck, it was probably both.

Niki’s boots clicked against the tiles as she sauntered out of the kitchen and into the living room again, grabbing a few napkins as she did. She handed one of the plates to Phil, who immediately placed the tart he’d grabbed while she was gone down on the ceramic, and settled down besides him. Before he could thank her, she asked him her question. “So, how’s it been going here?”

“Well enough. Probably less dramatically than out there.” Phil gestured to the window, to the cold and barren world outside them. To the people beyond it, the people Niki had spent barely an hour around recently and was already sick of. “We got Dream stable, and he’s asleep, I think.” That was a relief. “Techno decided to clean up a few of our loose ends, so we don’t have to worry about Quackity anymore.” Niki felt satisfaction settle in her stomach; she’d never liked the man much, and she despised him after they discovered what he’d done. They needed him dead, and now he was. “Punz’s been hanging around too, but they’re planning on leaving soon to clear themself. Even if no one suspects them yet, they all will if they aren’t seen around shortly.”

“Not a bad plan,” Niki admitted before gathering herself and sitting forward. She clasped her hands in front of her. “So. What do we think about them?”

Phil shrugged, wings shifting behind him. It didn’t look exactly comfortable, but he didn’t seem to mind, so she wasn’t going to say anything. “They were the one to tip us off in the first place, and they’ve only been helpful since then. We can’t trust them completely, but it’s not very likely that they’re trying to pull something. Even if they were paid off by Sam or Quackity, that didn’t end very well for those two and Punz can probably tell that. It’s not a mystery.”

Niki snorted. “It really isn’t.” She immediately sobered. “Well, if you think we can trust them, and the only things they’ve done is help us, I’ll just ask Ranboo to keep an eye on them when they go hang out with everyone else.”

“That’d be great, Niki. I’ll tell you when they’re going to head out.” Phil shifted in his seat. “Techno’s with Dream now, so be quiet if you’re going to talk to him. He wasn’t doing the best last night, but I think he’s feeling better now.”

“Of course, grandpa,” Niki replied, rolling her eyes.

Phil sighed. “I tell you everything you want to know and you still act like a little shit. No one has any respect for their elders these days.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just eat your tart already, old man,” Niki instructed, stifling her silent giggles as she reached for her own pastry. If she waited, there wouldn’t be any left by the time she got around to eating.

She’d gotten one onto her own platter by the time she spoke again, lowering her voice as she leaned towards Phil. “Before we do anything…” Niki sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Ranboo noticed, back in the prison, that it felt like Punz had already been there because they knew how to use everything without any sort of explanation. It doesn’t prove anything, and, I don’t know, Punz and Sam were working with Dream at the same time so maybe they saw the blueprints then?” she tried. “I just thought you might want to know.”

Phil settled his hands in his lap. “Well, thank you, Niki. I’ll keep it in mind. Anything else you wanted to tell me?”

“Not really–”

They both glanced up when one of the doors opened and Punz stepped into the room, sharp edges softened by the soft lantern-light of the cabin as opposed to the overbearing, distorting bubbling lava glow of the cell or the well-lit meeting room. They didn’t look anywhere close to as tired as Phil did or Niki felt, which was more impressive than anything with the busy nights they’d all been subjected to.

“Hello,” Phil greeted them. Niki never thought that he was particularly friendly with the mercenary, but, hey, maybe something changed or she had never heard about it in the first place. “How’re you feeling?”

“Good.” Punz smiled back at him before their eyes slid onto Niki as well. “Thanks for helping me out there, Phil, and nice to see you, Niki.”

“You too,” Niki answered. This was completely fine. Talking wasn’t hard, and Phil had been right earlier; there wasn’t much of a reason for Punz to try anything. Either way, Niki could take care of herself perfectly well if it came to that, especially with backup, and it didn’t cost anything to be nice. Usually. “Want something?” She nudged the bag of pastries on the couch between her and Phil.

“I mean, if you’re offering…” Punz trailed off at the end but their eyes were sharp and sparkling.

“I am,” Niki informed them, and took a plate before grabbing one of the tarts. That accomplished, the mercenary settled down in the chair to the side of the couch, relaxing into the velvet with a slouch.

“Well, thanks, then,” Punz told her with a grin, holding the saucer gingerly even as they began to kick back and unwind. “World’s on fire?”

“More or less,” Niki answered. “Everything’s a mess.” She sighed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, and Punz took a bite of their pastry. “You’d think we blew up a city or something.”

“Hey, I think there’s only one of us who’s actually done that,” Punz refuted, glancing over at Philza, “and it’s not me.”

“I’ll let you two catch up, then,” the old man declared, standing up and brushing himself off. “Try not to set anything on fire, okay?”

“Sure,” Punz replied, examining their nails. They had set their plate down on the edge of the armrest and she wondered what she would feel if it fell. Disappointment because the pastry got destroyed? Satisfaction? Annoyance? Embarrassment? She didn’t know.

Niki rolled her eyes, maybe a bit more dramatically than she had to. “I can’t promise anything, Phil.”

Phil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before putting his hand down and looking at her properly. “Well, just tell me if you do. I’ll just be down the hall.”

“Fine,” she agreed reluctantly, and Phil shook his head gently before crossing the room and heading down the hallway. It took more than a few moments for him to disappear from view but it felt almost instantaneous.

Well. Niki was in the room alone with Punz. They’d spoken maybe two times before. She still wasn’t convinced that any of them could trust Punz. Fun. “So. Hi.”

“Yeah. Hi.” Punz rubbed the back of their neck nervously. They seemed just as uncomfortable as she did here. Good. “So, who do they think did it?”

Okay. Niki could work with this. “Well, I think it’s pretty obvious, and most of them do too, but most of them don’t have any clue about our involvement,” she gestured towards herself and the person sitting before her, “or Ranboo’s, so that’s great. Some people have, like, fringe conspiracy theories about, I don’t know, Connor but that’s about it.”

Punz snorted. “Well, we all know that Connor is secretly an evil mastermind, so that’s perfectly reasonable, dude.” They leaned forward, balancing their elbows on their legs. “But no one knows about us.”

“More or less,” Niki confirmed. She sighed and fell back onto the couch. “And I’m trying my hardest to keep it that way, Punz.” And I need you to try to as well, she didn’t say. They probably didn’t want to get caught in this mess any more than she did. They knew it would be their death too, or they should. Once again, regrettably, Niki didn’t know enough about Punz to make that judgment confidently, but she’d seen them in action before. They’d gotten far while working with Dream up until they betrayed him, even when the server more or less hated the man. Even the betrayal was reasonable; it kept Punz safe and out of harm’s way while the server’s fevered hostility reached a boiling point, and got them some extra money on the side. Niki hated it, would never do something like that, but she understood it. She just had to hope that it would be enough to understand them.

“A noble goal,” Punz responded breezily, thankfully (hopefully) having missed her little tiny spiral. “Got anything else you’re working on?”

“Baking, mostly,” Niki answered, feeling her shoulders relax and the tension began to bleed out of her body. “You?”

Punz shrugged, picking up their plate again. “Not much, unfortunately.” They shot her a quick, almost apologetic smile, eyes utterly calm. Like ice, she thought, blue ice. There wasn’t anything moving there, or at least nothing she could see. She could relax but she still had to remember why they were in this situation to begin with, because this was pretty much the exact opposite of a normal one.“Beekeeping, mostly. Some other stuff when I feel like it.”

Niki nodded, and Punz took a bite out of the tart. She should try, even if she knew that she wasn’t going to get an honest answer. “I have a question, if you don’t mind.”

“Go right ahead,” they allowed. Punz scarfed down another bite. “You’re a true wonder with these, bro.”

“Thanks. But why are you here?” Niki asked abruptly. That wasn’t the right word, not the right way to put it. “I mean, why did you get involved in all of this? You weren’t a part of it before.”

Punz sighed and placed their pastry down on the plate again. “I’m gonna guess and say that ‘I felt like it’ is not an acceptable answer?” Niki stared at them with all the judgment she could muster in her eyes. “Cool. ‘Cause that’s not quite true either.” They leaned towards her in the rippling velvet of the chair, sitting at the edge of their seat. “Let me just put it this way. Dream and I made a deal. A while ago. We’d found out that something was fucking wrong with the server, and we were trying to fix it.” The mercenary rolled their eyes. “I thought that he could work on that perfectly well in prison, and, even if I hadn’t gotten involved then, they were still going to get him eventually. Better to make sure he wouldn’t drag me down with him if it was going to happen, which, yeah, it was. We all knew it.”

Punz’s voice lowered, deepened. “Then I found out what was really happening in there, and, well. No one deserves that, and he also wouldn’t be able to carry out our deal like that.” They scoffed and leaned back, all the tension in their body releasing at once. “I had to do something, and this seemed like a good option. Plus, I can’t say I didn’t get a little…attached, but that hardly mattered.” The mercenary rolled their shoulders back before settling with a short sigh, glancing back over at Niki. “Got all that?”

“More or less.” Definitely more over less. She’d wanted to know, and now she got something, even if Punz was almost definitely lying. It was a strange time to lie, but, hey, that’s what everyone here loved to do. She already had a second perspective, but, well. Proof couldn’t hurt. “Anyone else I could ask about that?”

“You could check with Dream,” Punz answered, “if you wanted. I’m not sure what he’d tell you, though. He’s always been,” they rolled their neck, disdain creeping into their voice, “ secretive.”

“You don’t say,” Niki commented. All of that might be an answer, or it was the closest she was going to get. Some of it was a lie, probably, maybe even all of it, but there felt like there was some truth to it too, and Niki just had to figure out which parts were which. It didn’t mean that they were safe, by any measure, weren’t going to do something or betray them or be a threat. It just meant that Niki had a bit more to work with now, and that Punz that she was an acceptable person to give this whole spiel to. She still didn’t know what to make out of that either, but she’d figure it out. “Well, thanks for telling me all that, I guess.”

“No problem.” Punz grinned. Niki smiled back. “Anything else?”

Chapter Text

Niki stood in the center of the meeting room, carefully pining notes onto the maps lining the walls before her. String arrows stretched from one corner to the other, connecting this and that, expanding underneath her hands. They had to be careful, now, and that meant they had to know what they were dealing with. The opinions of the various members of the server, and the dangers those posed, were as good as any other place to start.

The woman had stashed her communicator in the pocket of her coat draped over her chair, bright and buzzing but still empty when it came to the person she wanted an update from. Ranboo hadn’t replied to a single one of her messages besides with a short assurance and thumbs up, and she was starting to get concerned. If his memory issues struck now… Well, it would definitely be inconvenient. She didn’t want to have to try to explain what had happened to him again, especially with his thoughts on the matter before.

But it was probably nothing. Ranboo was busy, with himself and his husband and his son. He’d hardly wanted to be involved in this in the first place; it made sense he would take efforts to extricate himself from the situation. She just wished he was more open about it so she would be able to stop worrying. For all she knew, Ranboo had all his lives; nothing was going to happen to him. He was fine, and she would be as long as she got her head screwed on right and managed to focus on the things in front of her.

Speaking of. She traced her web of string, the different notes on the different settlements and the people they represented, the thoughts and theories and hopefully not truths they held. It was as comprehensive as she could get it at this point, her differently-colored threads marking threats and potential allies and those they couldn’t trust but didn’t have to fear. With any luck, that was, and not alone. Not without someone to stir them into fevered action, not with someone trying to turn them against her and hers.

That was how the server always worked; the vast majority of people tried to live and work and do what they wanted while a few stubborn few were charismatic enough to tangle everyone else in their grudges and vendettas and plans. Things had changed since L’Manburg (since Wilbur), but not by much. There were just more options for who you wanted to follow now, and not choosing a side just meant going along with whoever was the most powerful and popular and strong-willed. Niki had been in that middle ground before, but she sure wasn’t going to be now, and she was happy with that. You had to take a stand eventually if you didn’t want people walking straight over you, and this was a better reason than most. It was right; no one deserved that. It was the least she could do at this point. No going back now.

Even as she tacked scraps of writing and push pins and string together – Las Nevadas might be disorganized and defanged without their leader, but Snowchester was a major threat, and Kinoko was going to be so too, with Sapnap so impassioned about this –, she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering, finding herself back inside the cabin, plush pillows and couches and cups of tea and blue eyes and a mouth full of teeth. Secrets and lies spoken in the same breath, masquerading as each other. Charming smiles and tenuous alliances and carefully-treading distrust. She knew that game perfectly well.

No, what Niki couldn’t understand was the why of it all. If they really weren’t lying (unlikely), then why didn’t they tell anyone earlier? It would be easy to include that little fact while the mercenary was recapping the situation when they first went to the Syndicate for help. And Punz absolutely had chances to let them know, questions about their motives that they neatly sidestepped, and they certainly didn’t take any of those. The same question went for if they were lying – wouldn’t it be better to establish their story earlier, rather than making themself look suspicious? And Niki still didn’t exactly get what angle they could be playing if they were lying, or why they’d told their story to her.

(Because she was the most convenient? The one closest nearby? But she’d left for the night, and Phil and Techno and Punz had been there all night together, and there wasn’t any indication that either of the others knew, so that couldn’t be it. Because Punz thought she would be the easiest one to lie to, to manipulate; the most trusting, the least wary, the least likely to suspect a trap? Because they thought kindness meant naivety, that hopeful meant gullible, that softness meant innocence, helplessness? That she was less capable than the rest of them all because she tried to be nice, because of the way she looked, how her body worked? But, then again, they knew she was here, part of this, and it was her choice. No one was forcing her to be here, it was what she wanted, and she didn’t do any less than anyone else in the Syndicate. She’d hope that Punz could take that to mean she wouldn’t be an easy mark)

Pause.

(Her nails were digging into her skin, white crescents appearing in her palms when she didn’t have anywhere else to inflict her rage upon)

Breathe.

Niki forced her hands to relax out of the fists they had formed and took a deep breath in. Then another. And another. Enough to calm the ember (anger) burning in her chest, enough to force the flame back into a quiet glow. Something kind. Beneficial. Better.

Okay. Try again.

Paranoia wasn’t going to get them anywhere. Well, maybe it would get Techno somewhere, she knew how he could be, but it wasn’t going to get her anywhere. Better to stick to what she definitely knew instead of worrying about the things she didn’t. She could handle herself, and so could the rest of the Syndicate; they were hardly ill-prepared at this point, with their stockpiles of supplies ‘just in case’ something happened. Maybe they couldn’t take on the whole server, but maybe they could, and it wasn’t likely that they would have to in the first place. They had friends, there were definite groups that didn’t care, unity was hardly a thing in this place.

Speaking off. When she had been there, the major advocates for a manhunt had been Tommy (of course), Sapnap, and Sam; all the usual suspects. Tubbo, too, but he had been quieter about it, and that reminded her; they couldn’t let Tubbo think they were too large of a threat. If it seemed like the Syndicate (or Dream, really, but Techno definitely factored into Tubbo’s calculations too) was too dangerous, too much, if they were a force that could not be stopped, then…well, it wouldn’t end well. Niki had helped him construct the bomb, she knew that it was there, how it worked. She knew what it could do, how far it would reach, how catastrophic that would be. Some places would be outside the range of its nuclear winter, but not many, and there wouldn’t be any coming back from that. Not for a thousand years, at the least.

Niki had never been one for senseless death, and she still wasn’t, even after the years, the wars, the betrayals, the desperation, the fire, the need to be important, to someone, to have any last scrap of control over herself and her situation and what was happening and what was happening to her, the guilt, the grief. It had to be a purpose, and they had to stay dead. She understood, halfly, the need for something like the book, the necessity, but it had led to this, and, seriously, Wilbur? After everything? Niki couldn’t grasp the need for that.

What she could understand was that the devastation the nuke would leave wouldn’t discriminate between the innocent and the deserving, wouldn’t leave anything left. No one wanted that, least of all her, but she understood why Tubbo had come up with the design, and she needed something to keep her busy to get out of the house, force her to do something instead of nothing, stop herself from burning everything down in a blaze of fire. It was never supposed to be used; Tubbo needed something to show that he was an actual contender, someone to take seriously, that he deserved a place at the table, and that was he had chosen. It had always been intended as an empty threat, but Niki knew how the boy could get; she wasn’t confident he wouldn’t use it as part of some half-brained plan if he felt trapped, desperate. She just had to make sure that they were never in the situation where it might be considered an option.

She hadn’t told the others about the bomb yet; she had been working on it before she had joined, and she half-thought they already knew. No point in an apocalyptic threat if no one knew about it; it would do Tubbo well to tell everyone about it. Niki knew that was logical, should be the case, but half the people she spoke to didn’t know about it at all. She still wasn’t sure that the Syndicate knew. She should tell them, Niki knew. She needed to, especially now. They needed all the cards on the table, and this was one still hidden in her own hand. That wouldn’t do.

A misplaced pin punctured her skin and she swore as the red smudged all over her fingers, dragging her out of her thoughts. She reached for the jacket tied around her waist, freezing when she spotted someone else in her peripheral vision and relaxing when she realized who it was. Rubbing the blood off on the fabric, Niki turned to face him.

“You good down here?” Techno asked, eyeing her hand gingerly.

“Don’t worry, I’m good,” Niki reassured him. “Where have you been? I hadn’t heard from you until now.”

Techno shrugged. “Hangin’ out with Dream. It’s not a great idea to leave him alone right now.” Wait, if he was down here, then who was– Her thoughts must have shown on her face because Techno spread his hands, quickly backtracking. “Phil’s with him right now, I didn’t just leave him. I wouldn’t do somethin’ like that, Niki.”

“Yeah, I know,” Niki sighed, settling back down. She rolled her neck in a loose circle; crunchy. She'd been working on this for too long. “Just wanted to check, y’know?”

“I get it.” His eyes flicked up to the board behind her, the different strings connecting it all. “You’ve been busy down here?”

“I think having references would be useful. I don’t want to explain everyone’s positions on us a million times, and hopefully this will help with that,” Niki answered, gesturing vaguely.

“That’s reasonable.” Techno smiled at her. “Especially with you bein’ our designated public relations manager and all. I can’t imagine that’s very fun.”

“Ugh, you won’t believe how it is sometimes.” Niki pinched the bridge of her nose but even her exaggerated distaste still couldn’t stop a little grin from creeping onto her face.

“Yeah, people are like that,” Techno answered, grimacing. “I’m just happy that’s not my job.”

Niki tried to imagine that, Techno gossiping with the other server members and trying to dodge every question anyone asked him, and she snorted. “I can’t imagine that going well.”

“And that’s why it isn’t my responsibility, Niki. I’d make so many faux pas, you wouldn’t believe it. Maybe even diplomatic incidents if I have the time.”

“Prime.” Niki laughed, running a (non-injured, unblooded) hand through her hair. “And Phil just wouldn’t show up, would he?”

“Nah, he’d forget that he had something and spend the day hanging out with his crows,” Techno informed her. “And the maybe five times he remembered he’d just ignore it because he doesn’t want to get involved.”

Niki rolled her eyes. “Sounds about right.”

Techno looked at her hand again, the sloppily-cleaned up blood smeared across her sweater. “You sure you don’t wanna do somethin’ about that?”

“I’ll take a bandage if you have one,” she answered. “Small as you can get it. Not a potion, though; it doesn’t even hurt.”

“If you say so,” Techno relented, already rustling through his bags for a bandage. “I’d really rather you keep track of those things, but I know how hard it can be.” He grabbed a roll of gauze and handed it over to her. Her fingers sank into the wrap as she pulled out a dagger and started to unroll the wrap, looking for the best place to cut it. “It’s not somethin’ you want to make a habit out of, ya know?”

She snorted, taking her eyes off the bandages for a moment. “I’m pretty sure you’re just overthinking it, Techno. I know better than to start that again, and you’re the ones who nerves are still terrible, remember?”

“You’re not wrong.” Niki cut the tiniest sliver off the bandage roll and started wrapping it around her bleeding finger, setting the dagger down on the table as she did. Techno sighed. “Sure. You got everything figured out up there?”

Niki kept talking as she worked, securing the cloth slip with a knot she did once, twice, three times. “I’d hardly be here if I hadn’t, so, yeah. It’s pretty easy when everyone else is panicking over something else and the most they’re worried about is if you’ll be okay, not what you’re doing.” She finished and glanced up at Techno. “Hey, have you heard from Ranboo recently?”

“Not since he left last night.” The piglin shifted on the balls of his feet, eyebrows slowly furrowing. “Did somethin’ happen with him?”

“No, I just haven’t heard any more from him either,” Niki explained. She tucked the rest of the bandages into her cloak as she began to gather up the papers she had taken out, records of old meetings, the most important things from each so that she could reference what they already knew and make sure everything she knew matched up as well, and try to organize them into something more orderly. Techno began picking up the ones closest to him and setting them in a neat stack as opposed to the still-messy pile Niki was creating on the other side of the table, and she smiled at him. “I’m probably going to swing by his place tomorrow to check up on him. Just to make sure he’s fine. It’s been a stressful few days for all of us.”

Technoblade bobbed his head. “Well, it seems like you have a plan, then. Still.” He looked her over analytically, examining the corkboard behind her. “It took me a minute to find you down here.”

“You went looking?” Niki asked, raising an eyebrow.

Techno waved a hand, eyes drifting to the side of the meeting room. “I just wanted to check on ya. It’s gettin’ late –” It did not feel late to Niki, it had not felt like any time had passed at all, but when she pulled out a clock, the spoke was already in the last quarter “– and it’ll be good for you to have something to eat.”

Niki nodded, stretching one shoulder slowly. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Dinner?” she checked, the biggest smile she could muster on her face.

Techno sighed, looking just as tired as he could get but still indulgent. She knew that face well. “Of course. Just come right up.”

“Thank you –” Niki was already heading for the exit by the time he finished speaking. Just another normal evening in the Arctic, despite everything. They would eat, and talk, and then sleep, and everything would be fine. Just another normal day.

Chapter Text

Gunpowder. The smell of it settled over her slowly as Niki stood petrified, eyes wide and limbs locked, watching the sky bloom all the bright reds and blues and yellows she had never seen before as everything else fell away, splitting down the middle or exploding like the rest of everything else, and she wanted to say something, do something about it, because that was her home too, she had worked for this as well, would someone just listen to her, but no one did, no one ever did, and she couldn’t speak, choking on the smoke that tightened its grip on her throat and made her eyes water, and she couldn’t move, paralyzed, unable, helpless as she watched everything burn to ash and she didn’t know where anyone was and what if they were in there too and she couldn’t–

She was on the ground now; Niki rolled to the side and covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to breathe in any more of the acidic smoke. Her eyes wandered down as she kept her breath inside, lungs screaming and thoughts reeling, disjointed, and she froze when they fell on the bones under her, pearly white just barely poking through dirt. She didn’t– They hadn’t been there before– Who– She hadn’t done this–

Niki scuttered backward, eyes still trained on the bones, and tried desperately to stand, to get away from them, so she wouldn’t end up like them, as if that would prevent it. The ground was suddenly malleable under her body, squirming and shifting as she tried to get back on her feet, sliding out under her the moment she just almost got it, trapping her hands under a goopy second skin as she tried to dig her fingers into the soil, making her panic and rip them out in a desperate attempt to keep them hers. It still coated them as she did, clinging to her skin stubbornly as she desperately tried to scrap it off, just so that she could control something about this, about what was happening to her, to take back just one scrap of her agency from this whole mess, and her fingers grew more and more frenzied as she dug nails into her skin, trying to dig it out of her. It was wrong, wrong, wrong–

An outstretched hand entered her field of vision and she grabbed it, letting strong arms pull her back to her feet, but her smile withered as she saw who it was, the hope shattering inside her chest. The hand she wasn’t holding on to went to cup her back and she whirled away, heart pounding, head aching, mind a tangle of anger and betrayal, rage and hurt. She didn’t want him to touch her. That was the only thing she could know for certain. Everything else was a mess.

She only got a glimpse of Wilbur’s face, a wisp of smoke trailing off of a cigarette, before the world was changing again, red vines sliding down the walls and crowding her vision, crawling across the floor towards her and wrapping around her ankles as she staggered backwards, barely stopping her from falling onto a carpet of red. She couldn’t stop, heart pounding out of her chest as she lurched away from the vines, desperately trying to get away even though she knew there wasn’t an away there was just this and she couldn’t escape it, she could never escape anything even though she wanted all of it to just go away, she didn’t know what to do–

The vines had managed to crawl up her legs, hugging her calves tightly, by the time the scene changed next, taking her to yet another smoking battlefield, framed by red on all sides and everywhere in between. She started forward slowly, eyeing every corpse she came across with a twisted knot of hope and dread, waiting to find someone she recognized, someone she knew, and dreading it all the same, but maybe it would at least be a release–

She did know some of them. Pale curls and short horns, shattered glasses, a golden crown, a red bandana. Others were unrecognizable, too coated in gore for her to be able to tell. Either way, there was still nothing. Nothing living, breathing, there, besides her. Besides Niki. And that was how it was always going to be, wasn’t it? Just Niki, alone, until the end?

She had tried to find other people, to mold herself into something nice and palatable to avoid that fate, but did it ever help? L’Manburg ended quietly, a fantasy wiped away by the dawn; Manburg, in fire and screams. Just the same for the rebuilt versions, just the same, always the same. Always repeating, never changing.

She thought it would be different this time. She thought that it could be different this time, with the Syndicate, less people, more trustworthy, but she was still alone, in the end, and they were still gone, and it was her own fault that they were, her own actions that allowed them to become the villains again, hunted down to the ends of the earth, because she was too soft –

And now there is nothing she could do about it. It was too late to make a move, to change anything, to apologize and beg forgiveness. They’re in too deep, and Niki could hardly remember why they had started this, mind filled with the midnight sky and nothing else, her thoughts abandoning her as she started down the darkened corridors, walking further into the darkness with every step. Somehow, she already knew where to go, how to stop at the right door, to grip the knob and wrench it open with a force that half-surprised her sleeping brain, half-mindlessly expected it, even if she could hardly grasp why. She had to, she wanted to, but what it was she wanted was something she could barely understand, held just outside her reach, and trying to think about it just made her strength ebb, slowing her strides and fogging her mind, making her lose whatever perfect purpose she already had. It was right, whatever it was. She didn’t need to know what to know that. She knew what it was like to be wrong, and it wasn’t this.

Everything felt strange, disconnected, like Niki was underwater, wading through the thickness with every step, all sound and sight distorted under the waves. Every step she took was silent, each movement a stubborn unthinking battle, swimming slowly through the fleed. She couldn’t think straight. She could hardly think at all.

But she didn’t need to. All she needed to do was approach the bed pushed into one corner of the room, and the person sitting on it, eyes trained on her from the moment the door swung open. The window was open, stars bright beyond the pulled-aside curtains, shining into the room, lighting their silhouettes but little else. That was fine; he didn’t need to see for this, and neither did she. Her hands found their way to his collar perfectly fine without it.

“Why did you bring him back.” It was a statement, not a question.

His voice was sleepy-raspy, choked where she was tugging him up by his lapels to face her the words more hissed than spoken. Niki hated how slow everything was moving; she wanted answers. Now. So she could wake up from this bad dream. She just wanted it to be over. She wanted to move on. A scene change, another cast, another pain. Prime, she wanted this to be done. "Be more specific."

"Wilbur." It wasn't hard, it wasn't hard, it wasn't hard- She was still asleep, and her rage rose to her skin more easily in unconsciousness than it did in life. She was better than this. She knew that. But none of that mattered right now. "Why did you bring him back?"

The figment of her dreaming mind that wore Dream's face pursed its lips, features barely visible in the lightlessness, more an outline than anything else. "I know what it's like to be alone. I didn't want anyone else to go through that. Even him."

And Niki shattered because that's not the answer that her unconscious mind would spit back at her. That was not a declaration of his flawlessness or her own inadequacies, not a confused look, not a "I thought you loved him", not a question why she was doing this, if she felt okay, if she needed to sit down.  This was not what was supposed to happen, and if it's not-

Prime, if it's not-

She's not dreaming, is she.

Fuck.

Niki falls aside gracelessly, hands shaking all the way. Dream - the real Dream, because she's not asleep - just watches her warily as she does. "You done yet?"

"Yeah, yeah- Shit, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking straight." Niki takes a deep breath, focuses on the sheets under her, bunches them with her fists. She's here. She's here, and she already messed this up so bad, but it's her responsibility to fix it now. She's not going to go running to Techno or Phil or anyone else to fix her problems. She's- she's not weak. She can own up to her mistakes. She needs to, when they're this bad. It'd really be good to deal with this quietly before anyone else finds out. Sleepwalking is Ranboo's problem, not hers, and even he never hurt anyone while doing it.

Dream's face quirks a little and he leans forward, resting one elbow on his knee. "What were you thinking, honestly? I- I'm interested."

"I thought I was dreaming," Niki admitted, and was quietly thankful that Dream's fine-ish. By that, she meant able to engage with her like this; not obviously scared, not gone, in the present moment. It's a lot easier if they both decide to think it's humorous than if they don't.

Dream laughed at that, a wheezing, painful sound, but still obviously a laugh. "Really?" he managed to get out in between puffs. "Like- fuck, that's good, but genuinely? I love that."

"Well, that's a relief." And it is, honestly. "I really thought I screwed everything up."

Dream shrugged, and Niki can tell that he’s moving slower than he wants to with the motion, and that makes her feel guilty all over again, despite everything he’s saying. "Just a little. I've been through worse. And, trust me, if you didn't get involved, this sort of stuff would be at the bottom of my priority list." He sighed before focusing on her again, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "But, really? Out of everyone I thought might be having night troubles?"

Niki raised an eyebrow, keeping her eyes firmly on his face as she did. "Who did you think the lucky person would be?'

"Ranboo." The answer came instantly, thoughtlessly. "Or me, I guess. But Ranboo's not here, is he?"

"No, he went home a while ago," Niki answered. She owed it to him to be honest; it wasn't not like they're losing anything and, even if he was taking this surprisingly well, she still messed up here. "He wanted to deal with family stuff, and not be implicated in this. I left for a little to do that too."

"How is it?" Any good humor Dream might have had earlier drained away by the time he asked the question, that wary, evaluating look back in his eyes. Like a cornered animal, Niki thought, looking for a way out. She felt bad about the analogy, but it fit, and it made it easier to get her own thoughts in order; she wanted to make sure that she’s not blocking the exit. "Out there."

"Everyone's panicking." Honesty is the best policy, she reminded herself. She owed it to him. "No one really knows what's going on so they're just running around pointing fingers at everyone they think is suspicious. It's kind of a mess. But I don't think we have to worry about it for a while."

"Do they know about you?" The question comes quickly, full of intent and a special piercing sharpness that Niki doesn’t know how to place.

"No one thinks I'm involved, specifically. There's a lot of people who think that Techno did it, but no one knows what to do about it yet, and there aren't a lot of people who want to risk going after him." She thinks for a moment; she never knew Dream very well before, but she knows what people like when they're getting reports of what's going on, and he seems to be the sort of person who likes to think that way. "I'd give us a week or two before they pull themselves together enough to be able to actually challenge us."

Dream snorted. "You're not giving them enough credit. We'll probably only get a couple days before they show up."

"I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Niki was grinning at this point, because it was easy, familiar, and it was fun. For both of them, too, and that was honestly more than she could hope for before. A tiny, hoarse voice in the back of her head was screaming for her to ask about Punz, to try to verify their stories, see if they really were lying to her, but she tried to ignore it. This was nice, and she was building a rapport, and that was important, and she didn’t want to mess that up with probing questions after having woken him up by partially trying to strangle him. “But I guess we’ll have to see who's right in the end, then." 

"Bet." Dream returned her smile, faintly visible in the light that Niki only realized now was growing lighter every passing minute, and she turned gently, trying not to hit Dream as she did. The darkness of the night sky had faded away into a softer blue, pink edging along its seams, still dim and indistinct but obviously the dawn, just not its apex.

Niki was so awestruck by the sky that she had almost missed Dream's presence next to her on the bed, had forgotten to check his own reaction. A sniffle reminded her of the misstep immediately, and her eyes flickered back to look at Dream, his own eyes watering, still locked on the window. "Oh."

Dream glared at her. "Stop it. I'm fine."

He obviously wasn't. Still. Niki owed him. "We could go out on the porch, if you want to see it better."

The words seemed to take Dream back, blinking at her bewilderedly. "What?"

"It's really early, and even your guess is a couple days away," Niki offered. She'd like to see the sunrise better, and it might be nice to go out, and it'd be good to show that Dream he could go out; he fell asleep in one prison and woke up in what he has no way to know isn't another. Then all this, and, well, Niki can’t imagine it helped very much. The sunrise should help with that, a little bit. Maybe it could be her apology, since Dream didn’t seem super open to those at the moment. "It should be safe enough."

He still hesitated, narrowing his eyes at her like he wasn't sure she wasn't joking, waiting for her to retract the offer. When she doesn't, he still looks unsure, but there's a certain light in his eyes that wasn't there before. That was good. Just keep going; she wanted to see the sky too. "Sure."

Niki smiled. That’s one good idea already, and it’s hardly morning. She was doing great at this. She can fix this. "Let's go do that, then."

Chapter Text

Ranboo was nervous. No, that wasn't right, he was scared. Terrified. Fear raced through him like a pulse, pulling on a coat and wincing at the bright of his communicator screen. In the mansion, Ranboo felt like he was more a creeper than an enderman, about to blow up at any moment.

Tubbo didn't help it. Usually, typically, he did, but that was because Ranboo could talk to him. Honestly. And be fine with it, and maybe go off to check on Michael and write in his journal and calm down like that. Right now, he didn't have any of those luxuries. Because of him!

At the time, it had felt like the right decision. The right-ish decision. Ranboo had his reservations - how could he not, with Dream in his head and ruling his decisions and making him into something he was not, something he didn't want to be - but he still helped. And told no one. Which really meant it was his fault, truly. And so Ranboo's heart felt like it was going to beat out of his heart and his breath was coming quick and he couldn't even breathe a single word of what he'd done, because it was Techno, he didn't want to be cruel to Techno-

His husband wasn't any better, frantically answering Tommy's calls and texting to Jack, and oh, aw. Ranboo knew about the nukes. The knowledge didn't make it any better. Made it worse, in fact! A lot worse! So Ranboo mostly focused on wiggling Michael into his winter jacket and ignoring the desperate beeping. Tubbo- Tubbo wasn't going to do anything rash. Probably.

"Everyone's meeting by the prison," Tubbo told him as he put the communicator down. "So we can figure out what happened and what to do. We already tried it yesterday but no one had a clue then." He shrugged. "We're hoping it can be better now everyone's got a chance to sleep on it."

Ranboo truely doubted that. "Does anyone know?" Desperately, he wanted to hide, to run as far as he could and cleanse himself of this mess and not have to deal with it at all. But it would be stupid, and selfish. And really dumb. "What- how it happened?"

Tubbo grimaced, his frown tugging at the burns. Ranboo flinched too. "I don't think anything was destroyed, and Sam can't remember anything. Or at least that's what he says."

He startled. "You don't believe him?"

"Doesn't it just seem a little convenient?" Tubbo asked. "That nothing was fucking touched and Dream was just gone. Maybe Sam wanted him out, maybe Dream blackmailed him - I don't care."

"Don't we trust Sam?" Now, his claws were scraping together in terrible metallic sounds, and Ranboo tried to fold them into fists to stop them. Nothing- nothing good could come from that. "I mean, we let him be warden, right? So he can't be so bad?"

"He was Warden because he built the prison," said Tubbo intently. "Which he built for Dream. Because Dream asked him too."

"Ah," said Ranboo. "I didn't know that."

"It's okay." Tubbo took Michael from his arms and hitched him up, the piglin goggling. His eyes were brown and gentle on Ranboo's face, gentler than they had any right to. "Just make sure to write it down."

If they think it was Sam, said a tiny calculating voice inside Ranboo's head, sounding very much like Dream, they're not going to go looking after who really did it, are they? If he could, Ranboo would cower beneath its voice or shake it away, dispel it with muffled arguments or enough to snap him out of it. But he didn't want to worry Tubbo. Couldn't worry Tubbo, when he was already so unnerved, when they were already so on edge.

"Yeah," Ranboo agreed instead, and opened the door so that they might step out. The wind snapped and chilled, almost enough to drown out the notifications of a panicked friend, of a thousand screaming voices all centered on him. Almost.

When they got to the prison, it seemed that most everyone had already arrived. Tubbo passed Michael to Ranboo as he shouldered his way through the crowd, Ranboo following the path he made in his wake. Wide eyes watched the proceedings from Ranboo's chest, more awestruck than scared. It was the first time Michael'd seen the server all together, he supposed; Ranboo and Tubbo had always been careful with introducing people to their kid, maybe a few at a time, at most. Usually just one. They were cautious like that. It wasn't like it wasn't warranted. Everyone knew about pets that were in the wrong place and set off wars, and they had no illusions of how people viewed their son.

"-and you didn't even fucking know?" Tommy yelled, one finger pointed as Sam as Ranboo shuffled into view. Pandora's Vault loomed, pressing like a dark cloud over them all and blocking out the sun. Dark ripples filled the lake spilling from it, Tommy's boots almost black in the water.

Sam was still wearing his gas-mask. Unease prickled through Ranboo, holding Michael closer as he fought not to shiver. He could not guess at the Warden's expression under it. Unlike the prison, its Warden looked dishelved, crown off-centered and hair halphazard. "Tommy-"

"No! I don't care!" Tommy shouted. "It was your fucking job, Sam! To keep - to keep everyone safe. And you didn't manage it, did you? Even after everything-"

"What can you expect? Everyone fucks up," drawled Wilbur, and Ranboo's skin prickled. He didn't want to be here. He really didn't want to be here, but he had to, probably? After what he'd done, he at least had to see the fallout, give them this much, because it was his fault, and Techno wasn't even here and what would they think-

In the crowd, Punz winked at him. Even under the shadow of the prison their medallion glimmered, gold and flashy against the white. Right. Not entirely alone here. Ranboo's hands stopped their shaking. And Tubbo was here, even if he didn't know what Ranboo had done. They'd defend him. If something happened. If someone knew.

No, no - he shouldn't want that. He didn't want them to defend him, he- he deserved it. Whatever punishment they decided to give him. For what he'd done, whatever he had been thinking, he deserved it. That's why he was here, wasn't it? To - to punish himself. Maybe. Then again, thinking back to how Dream had been, when they found him - maybe that was too harsh. Maybe he knew why he did it. Maybe - just maybe - he had been doing the right thing.

But that was what Dream would want him to think. If he was even capable of it, in his state - maybe it was what the Dream in his head would want him to think. Ranboo could see that. Well, not literally, but. Still.

"Didn't you motherfucker call him your fucking savior?" Tommy spat, breaking through Ranboo's spiral. "Didn't he bring you back? How do we know you didn't fucking do it? You could know where he's hiding, right now!"

"Ah, what a wonderful idea. I would love it," said Wilbur, as if it were just a completely normal conversation. "Alas, no. I fear someone had got before me."

"And how do we know that?" Tubbo demanded in the crowd.

"There would have been much more of a fireworks show if it had been me." Wilbur tutted, eyes going glassy. With his patchwork skin, looking more a corpse than anything living, it was unnerving. "Truly, they did not have any sense of drama or blocking, did not even offer any cues..."

Eret paced their way to the front, followed by Puffy not very far away. "Okay, so he probably didn't do it. Who else then?"

"Why should we listen to you?" accused Fundy. He lashed his tail, glaring at the one in the crown. "How did we know that you didn't do it, really? What if you wanted to create chaos?"

"I've left that all behind," Eret said, drooping like a flower in hundred-degree heat. "I've repented, I never should have done that. But I'm happy with what I have now. What would I stand to gain?"

"I mean," said Sapnap. His knuckles were white around his sword's hilt, fire burning in his hair and flickering up through his hair. "It wasn't just one time, Eret."

"Unfortunately," they sniffed. "To get the crown! Which was a bad idea, a regrettable idea, truly, but I have it now. I don't need to do terrible things to get it when it is already in my possession, do I?"

"And if you wanted to expand your power?" challenged Tommy, turning on them himself. Besides him, Wilbur smiled like a cat in the cream, at once sure and full of himself. "What do you fucking say then?"

"How could I?"

"You could make everyone fucking paranoid and then say you're the only one who can fucking keep them safe if only they fucking work for them! Didn't fucking Dream used to work for you, a fucking knight? Don't fucking say you wouldn't." Steam was pouring out of Tommy's ears, burning off the water at his feet.

"When have I ever done something like that?" Eret cried, and then reconsidered. "When have I, today, shown any sign of doing that? I was trying to calm everyone. Is that inciting paranoia?"

"It's fucking promising that you can fucking fix the problem! Like I said!"

Tubbo forced his way to the front, shouldering through the crowd, but he wasn't able to get there before Jack. "Dream wasn't the only knight Eret had. Shouldn't we be suspicious of them too? How do we know they didn't grow fond of him while working or fucking something?"

Gasps spotted the crowd. Puffy leaned forward, hair pulled away from her face and features very intent. "Is that an accusation?"

"It's suspicious," argued Jack.

"Are you saying everyone whose ever known Dream is suspicious?" Smoke was spilling from Sapnap's mouth, dark and ominous even as his hair lit up like a flame. Ranboo, hidden in the crowd, winced.

"I think it's suspicious you're so mad about it." Jack crossed his arms, glaring at Sapnap. "I wasn't even talking about you."

"Well, I think it's wrong." Sapnap huffed. In the darkened light, his eyes almost glowed, low and amber. "We all know what he was like. Look at me - look at Punz, they fucking betrayed him, want to know why? Because he sucked. Do you think anyone would willingly want to help him?"

"I mean, someone obviously did," said Puffy. She put a hand on Sapnap's arm and he deflated, the stream of blackened smoke thinning in steam. "Which just means we have to find out who did it."

Sapnap ducked his head, though he still glared at Jack the first moment he got. "Yeah. I guess. And then - then we go kill him."

Ranboo's stomach twisted. Suddenly he felt tight, awful, jittery, as if he was going to run a mile or was about to need to. Quietly, he shifted from one foot to the other as the crowd murmured their agreement.

"What about Technoblade?"

Tommy was the one who said it, looking like he was considering. "I mean, he definitely had the strength to do it. And didn't he owe Dream a favor or something?'

Ranboo's heart raced, sweat dripping from his brow to melt through with tiny pricks of pain. But when he expected them to turn, someone laughed. "Do you think he'd leave this whole thing untouched? There wouldn't be anything left if it was the Blade."

Ranboo let out the breath he had been well aware he had been holding and wiped away the sweat with a cloth when he knew no one was looking. He was happy to watch the conversation unfold, turning away from the topic.

"Philza wouldn't do a thing without Techno." Before Ranboo could even feel relieved, Wilbur was chuckling.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about him. He's just trying so much, trying to fix-"

Tommy dug his elbow into Wilbur's gut, glaring up at him. "We fucking get it, okay! I still think you're suspicious, Sam."

Sam sighed, and Ranboo could feel the tiredness in his voice. Ranboo still hadn't decided how he felt about that. "I know, Tommy."

"There's a lot of options," said Puffy. From the smile upon her face, she was - desperately - trying to get them back on track, but Ranboo really just wanted to curl up and die. Maybe he felt a little better. Maybe he didn't feel like he wanted to throw himself in an industrial crusher, just - take a nap. Maybe not wake up from that nap. That'd be nice.

Well, no, it wouldn't be. Michael would be scared. Puffy was still talking. "-someone from off the server. Has anyone joined recently? I mean, besides all my ducklings here. I know you wouldn't hurt anyone."

Bad had been lingering in the back but now he stepped forward. Bad - well, Bad looked bad. Worse than he'd ever looked under the Egg. His skin was dull and hair dishelved, smile stretched at the edges and nervous. Ranboo should have probably started worrying when he hadn't heard any "Languages!" throughout anything. It was probably the longest Tommy had ever been allowed to talk near him. "No one that we don't know about. I honestly don't know how they'd manage it?"

"Do we have anyone else who might know?" Puffy asked, targeted more at Sapnap than anyone else.

Sapnap shook his head. "George is still asleep."

"I noticed he didn't come," said Puffy pleasantly. No one mentioned who might also possibly know, and Ranboo could hurt for them.

"Hey," said Michael - not the baby, the actual human Michael. "Maybe it's okay that Dream's out. Maybe he just wants to chill? I mean, why did he even go to jail?"

Before he could even finish his sentence, Ranboo was flinching and ducking his head. Oh, no, no. Around him, the crowd stirred like a nest of hornets, raised to action.

"Hey!" Steel gleamed in the sun as Sapnap gestured with his sword, the sheath hanging loosely at his side. Before he could get another word out, Sam was pushing forward. Above his mask, his eyes were black as night, and piercing in their intensity. Even though he was not their target, Ranboo feared.

"Dream," Sam said ominously, "is a threat. To the server. He's proven that again and again."

"He starts wars," Sapnap added, and Ranboo wanted to scream. (When - when had he even started? This ache inside his chest-) Didn't Sapnap like wars? Ranboo, Ranboo hated them, obviously, but Sapnap - didn't Sapnap? Didn't he like them? Ranboo thought he remembered that.

"Excuse me!" Tommy demanded, pushing his way forward again. "Look - what's your name - Dream sucks. He ruins things! Yeah, fine, he starts wars, but who cares? What he does is traumatize people and - and then you can't do anything at all. He gets in your fucking mind, fuckface."  And doesn't even pay rent, Ranboo's mind instinctively provided. Gosh, maybe he had been spending too much time with Techno. "Makes you do things you don't want to do."

"Okay," Michael-the-human said, wide-eyed at the explosive response. "Uh. I see, then."

"Yeah, you fucking do!" Tommy was raging like a storm-cloud, gray and temperamental. Ranboo focused upon his memories - and categorization, he'd always loved categorization - as the storm spun around him.

People thought it was Sam, because it was suspicious, how intact the prison was. Or Wilbur, because of his revival and - because of his revival. Or anyone else. They didn't really think it was Techno. Which was a good thing! And they didn't seem to think any of the other members were involved.

No one even thought about Ranboo. Not even Tubbo, really, which Ranboo thought was the most terrible insane thing. Tubbo knew. Knew about the voices, the memories, all his problems- Tubbo knew how Ranboo had been, before. And even now, even Tubbo - even the person closest to him, who knew all there was to know - did not even offer the thought a glance, not even a consideration! And it wasn't even a thought! It was truth! Truth, and not a single one of them knew. Not a single one would believe him, likely, even if he went and confessed it all. Sam hadn't, when Ranboo had tried before, and it had been a terrible idea but still. The theory stood. Ranboo hadn't quite decided if it was a mercy or a damnation.

The closest they had come to even a little truth was when they had gone after Eret's knights. Perfectly relaxed, Punz slouched in the crowd, a bright spot of white in the flurry of color and motion. Their eyes were trained on the people before the prison, arguing and yelling at each other - Tommy looked like he wanted to fight someone, and Sapnap's hand was already furiously on his hilt. No worry taunted them, no push and pull of warring sides, fear and pity. Ranboo pet his baby's head and wished he could have even a sliver of that peace.

Instead, his nervous system was a battlefield and so was his mind. Ranboo cast his gaze upon the actors of the scene and did not allow them to draw away. In the action, maybe he could lose himself and his worries, if only he thought of it as a drama. If only it did not touch him at all. Ranboo would have liked that very much.