Archive of Our Own ^beta

For the first time in a long while, Dream is nervous. More than nervous.

Utterly terrified.

He’s unusually quiet as he and his team make their way over to the south of West End, near the docks. Once, Dream even caught his fingers shaking.

The rest of the (ironically) media dubbed ‘Dream Team’ wasn’t exactly faring any better. Sapnap, or Phoenix, as the public called him due to his avian and pyrokinetic status, was completely silent, and there was a slight tenseness to his wing flaps as Dream and George—the latter better known as 404— ran across the rooftop underneath him. George’s face was void of any emotion, and all three of them were evidently lost in their own thoughts, drowned by their apprehension of what was soon to come.

If they failed today, the entire city was almost certainly doomed. The fate of Essempi was completely on their shoulders. So no pressure.

They had received their first call to action against The Syndicate.

See, they were an uprising villain organization consisting of The Blade, a piglin hybrid with a scary proficiency with a sword and a penchant for murder, The Angel of Death, an avian who was dangerous by himself but also had a death touch, and Siren, a presumed merling hybrid with a very, very persuasive singing voice. Two weeks ago, they’d made their debut in the city and slaughtered dozens of innocent civilians, blown up ten buildings, and had killed many heroes, trainees - kids - included, all in their murderous rampage. 

Captain and Warden, the latter of which Sapnap and George’s old mentor, had been called out as the senior heroes to deal with this new threat along with their friend/pseudo parent of the group Halo, who was a demon hybrid, a mutated variant of wingless dragon hybrids with increased regeneration and invulnerability, which allowed him to have increased strength and speed. 

The fight did not go well. At all.

The Captain was hospitalized in critical condition. She’d gone against the Blade and lost horribly. Halo was in a coma. Siren had told him to stab himself. Half the tower in pandemonium and Sam, the Warden, was greatly injured (confined to a bed and unable to walk) from going against The Angel of Death.

Countless other heroes afterwards, all ranks #4 to #9, went up against them as well.

All but one were dead.

Now they were back on another murder spree. The moment they’d gotten the call, the whole tower had acted like they were being sent off to war. Or on a suicide mission. Or both.

There was no one left to fight The Syndicate. Dream was only rank #10. Maybe the youngest ever, but that didn’t change that fact. Sapnap and George weren’t even top heroes. They shouldn’t be fighting The Syndicate. But there was no one else. No one left.

The fact that Halo and Captain were both still unconscious did not help their nerves in the slightest. The fact that so many had died trying to fight these three new villains, was terrifying. 

Dream was eighteen years old, and much too young to die.

Sam had embraced Sapnap and George all teary-eyed, fear all the present in his eyes, and given Dream a meaningful nod that even a blind man could’ve deciphered. 

Bring them home in one piece. Keep them alive. I’m trusting you. Please.

And Dream was planning to do exactly that. 

Dream was the most experienced out of the three, the most quick-witted. After all, in a world where the average man had the ability to burn down a forest or level a building with a few hand gestures, you had to be all of those things and more in order to reach the top.

Even with this promise that rang clear in his head, that increasing feeling of dread was ever the more steady as they got closer to their destination.

It was far too soon when they found themselves on top of a three-story building, knowing full well The Syndicate was right in the street underneath, hidden. Waiting.

Like a predator waits for their prey.

He refused to be prey.

Dream took a deep breath. 

“Everyone knows who they’re taking on?” His voice, surprisingly steady and confident-sounding despite his swirling inner emotions, burst through their silent stupor.

“Yes, but I don’t like it.” Sapnap hissed, lowering down beside him.

The avian possessed a powerful pyrokinesis, being able to create, manipulate and set his own body on fire, as well as having wings with its assortment of reds, yellows, and oranges perfectly on brand for his brash and fiery friend,  although right now he seemed more like a smothered flame or a drowned bird. 

As the only one with wings in their group, he had to take on The Angel of Death, the black-winged villain. The Angel held the power to disable other’s abilities by touching them and depending on the amount of time spent in contact, the supervillain could either knock you unconscious or even kill you with just a touch. Saying that, it made Sapnap’s next words all the more ironic.   

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Come on, do you really think I’m that incompetent?” He smiled, trying to take off a bit of the pressure, but it didn’t seem to work; both his friends remained fearful and apprehensive.

No one is going to die today. Not Sapnap, not George, and not me. Not if I can help it.

I couldn’t leave Drista alone, after all.

“I don’t want to lose you.” Sapnap murmured, brushing his wing tip against Dream. “I don’t want to lose any of you. Prime, I don’t- I don’t want to die .” The avian whispers the last admission, tone trembling with barely hidden fear, gaze averting.

“I know. Trust me, I know.” He muttered back, the full weight of his words not lost to anyone. “We’re not going to die.”

Then, George finally spoke up. “The moment you feel like you’re losing, you call me, all right? Siren- he isn’t the best close-contact fighter compared to the other two. I’ve got the best chance of winning. XD….” He trailed off, casting Dream a worried look, his tone faltering at Dream’s hero name.

George’s ability was that he was resistant to all forms of mental powers, which meant he was the perfect person to go up against Siren. He could also put people to sleep with nothing more than a light brush of their arm and walk through their dreams as long as he maintained physical contact whilst doing so.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t get too distracted thinking about me. You too, Phoenix. Angel’s not exactly an easy opponent.”

“You’re going against The Blade. You know what he did to The Captain, XD. To almost all the others who are dead now. No normal person could ever hope of even touching him.” 

The Blade. The deadliest of the Syndicate Trio. Not only did he seem to possess almost every enhanced physical trait possible — strength, speed, agility, stamina, and all five senses — but the piglin hybrid was also deadly with his proficiency at combat. Paired with a tendency for murder and random bouts of psychopathic-like bloodlust, it made for a very intimidating opponent. Dream's opponent.

He knew his friend meant well, even though it did leave a bitter taste in his mouth at the insinuation of his supposed incompetency.  

Sapnap bit his lip. “Just let me switch, please.”

He shook his head, and Sapnap huffed.

“Well,” Dream squared his shoulders, mustering up a smile. He was trying to calm his friends, putting up that facade of reassurance despite his own emotions. “It’s a good thing I’m not any normal normal person. I'll be fine, okay?"

Sapnap looked at him, still solemn in a way he usually wasn’t. “..Just promise me? That you’ll be careful?”

“On my life.” Dream snorted. “Literally.”

Two very unamused glares came his way.

“ Seriously, XD, I-”

“I know, I know. I promise.”

“You better.”

“Oh, look , Siren.”

All three heroes turn their heads at the same time, tensed. Dream wrestles his fear into control, meeting The Blade’s terrifying blood-red eyes. 

The villain plays with his sword seemingly absentmindedly, leaning against a handrail with a cocky smirk on his face. His crown, glistening in the sunlight with a splatter of red, lay atop his head perfectly balanced. Beside him, Siren makes a casual shrug, gaze sharp and fixed on the three heroes. His black and gold trench coat flutters in the slight breeze.

“A couple more delusional sacrifices the heroes have sent us.”

With practiced ease, he pulls out a defiant grin. Voice dripping with sarcasm, he says, “Sacrifices? Nah, Blade. We’re more like uninvited guests. And guess what? We’re crashing the party.”

“Oo, look at this one, it bites.” Siren says with a toothed grin, tone condescending. “You’ve got guts, I’ll tell you that. Too bad they’re about to be spilled all over the floor.”

“We didn’t come here to hear you bullshit, Siren .” Sapnap speaks up. His wings burst into flames, and simultaneously so do his hands.

“You’re right.” Blade locks eyes with Dream, blood-red pupils glimmering with danger. 

“We didn’t.”

The Angel of Death swoops in from the sky and grabs both Blade and Siren just as the roof of the building caves in.

“Phoenix!”

“Yep!” Sapnap grips George’s hand and pulls him into the air. Dream, meanwhile, sprints and dives onto the next roof, rolling to absorb the impact. 

His teammates land onto the main street, and he slides down a lamppost to join them.

Fiercely, the whip of a sword alerts him and he parries the sudden thrust, knocking the blade to the side and slicing upwards. The Blade moves with a terrifying speed, forcing Dream to keep up.

It’s a level of intensity he’s not used to, and it feels like he has to constantly be on alert, constantly see everything and hear everything. Block right, thrust slice left, hook and- deflected, alright, kick and heavy hit.

Blade moves to the side and avoids the blow. Dream leaps backwards to avoid a cut to the legs, then blocks and bats away another hit with his gloved hand. 

They grapple. A burst of heat flames past him, singing his hoodie with the smell of smoke. 

“XD, duck!” Sapnap yells. Dream deflects another blow and jumps back, ducking down. A blast of pure fire is shot right over his head at the villain he was just battling. Blade widens his red eyes and tenses, seemingly preparing to dodge, when the flame abruptly shuts off.

“404, shoot Angel!” He hisses into his comm, engaging Blade once more after spotting the black winged avian with a hand clasped tightly around Sapnap’s arm. There was nothing he could do when they were both in the air, and George had better aim anyway.

He grunts when the piglin’s steel toed boot connects with his stomach. Viciously, Dream grits his teeth and slices at the outstretched leg, but the hit just barely misses as Blade dodges.

“Having trouble?” The villain mocks. 

“You’re going to be having trouble soon enough.” He quips back. Dream realizes he’s at a disadvantage; Blade is stronger, faster, and his weapon is superior in their particular match up. No giving up though.

He’s getting out of this alive.

“Fuck you!” George screams, far behind him. The sound flies right past his head, because all he can focus on is The Blade in front of him. His opponent. 

This is a mistake.

It is only due to Sapnap’s warning of, “Behind you, XD!” That causes him to whip around and leap to the side of a sword coming down on him from behind. He knocks away Angel’s weapon with a quick parry, whipping around, but in the process forget about Blade. He tries to move away, slicing a wide arc with his axe the moment he realizes, but is just a little too slow. A horrible stab through his shoulder, thankfully not as deep as it could’ve been, leads him to stagger, a strangled grunt escaping him. 

“Get away from him!!” Sapnap screeches. A wall of fire comes down between him and The Blade, giving him enough time to parry another blow from The Angel. 

He and Sapnap have swapped opponents now; his friend utilizes his incredible power to keep The Blade at bay, flames erupting left and right across the street. Meanwhile, Dream is forced to swap between defense and offense at a moment’s notice as Angel dives and twirls in the air, retreating whenever threatened and returning full force as soon as he was recovered from all different directions.

It seems as though their entire battle plan has gone straight out the window. He couldn’t possibly fuck it up more than it already has been.

“Trade, Phoenix.” Dream says into his comm as Angel swoops away again, perfectly out of earshot, even for an avian’s advanced hearing. 

“Fine. To your left.” 

The Angel of Death swoops in again but this time, Dream hooked his sword and with an experimental maneuver of his yanked it out of the villain’s hand, twisting. He then twirls out of the avian’s grip and kicks the weapon in Sapnap’s direction, on his left. His teammate dives down, hands glowing with flame. He shoots a pillar of it at Angel.

Dream turns and blocks a leap attack from The Blade. The piglin hybrid’s sword is large, so it’s lucky that his axe is quicker. Both their slices swing in the air in arcs as they dodge and leap forwards and backwards in a deadly display of both their skill sets. 

“Stop moving.”

His movement falters. Siren’s command rings in his ears, and suddenly an incredible urge to obey those words washes over him. The Blade takes advantage of this quickly.

Dream watches as the sword comes down on him.

Something barrels into him, knocking him aside from the fatal blow. “Snap out of it! XD!” George yells, and wakes him from his momentary stupor. He slips past the remainder of the command until it’s gone from his mind. 

Dream rolls both of them out of the way into a stand as Blade and Siren lunge at them, clutching his axe in a death grip. He parries the thrust at his chest, heart pounding, and leaps with a retaliating kick. It connects. He jumps away from another slash as the villain stumbles backwards.

Blade’s recovery is terrifyingly quick; within a second he’s back, attacking Dream with a stream of ferocious sword slices, to which he just barely slips past every single one. 

“XD, right?” The villain attacks ferociously all of a sudden, twisting and slicing up in a smooth motion, Dream narrowly dodging the otherwise fatal blow to his shoulder. 

He smiles despite the fear taking over his chest and tries pushing it down like he’s done before, only half succeeding. After pushing Blade’s defense, he slices downwards and quips in a cheerful manner, “That’s my name, don’t wear it out!” 

“I’ve heard of you plenty these last few weeks.” The Blade uses his height to come down from above, Dream barely moving out of the way and parrying from the side. He tries to hook the weapon but isn’t successful, the sword turning and slipping out of his grip. “Who hasn’t? The up-and-rising star hero, who miraculously doesn’t either hold a power or hybrid traits. Who’s noble and heroic and saves cats from trees or any other cringe thing like that.”

Dream scoffs at the mocking remark, mainly to hide his grunts of effort as he blocks deadly blow after blow, reciprocating just as ferociously but not managing to land a single one, which was frustrating. “You can kindly continue to mock me after you’re in Pandora’s.” 

He jumps backwards away from another blow. He moves to block but finds that the weapon has already changed positions. Dream misses another dodge and the slice cuts up his left arm. 

“Oh really.” The Blade is amused. “You think you’re better than The Captain? Better than, I dunno, all the nine other heroes who came before you? Most of them are dead, by the way. Like, a good majority. If you happened to forget.”

Dream is suddenly reminded of Halo in his comatose state, and Captain and Warden both confined to their beds, the former unable to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. Of the five other heroes dead, thousands of people devastated at their commemoration for service.

I don’t want to end up like that.

I won’t end up like that.

Dream grunts as he deflects a blow, leaping backwards from getting cut in the arms and slicing forwards at The Blade, who parries with annoying ease.

“Uh, no, I didn’t forget.” Miraculously, he keeps his composure, voice even sounding calm and a bit cocky. “I’ve seen the list. It’s pretty inspiring. Real confidence booster.”

The Blade raises an eyebrow. “Wow. And for a minute there, I actually thought you were smart. Nope, you just voluntarily stepped into your grave.”

They lock blades another time, metal clashing with a screech. Trading blows, Dream leaps away from a thrust. “Personally, I’m not planning to die to an overdramatic supervillain who monologues way too much.”

“If anythin’, you nerds are the ones who talk too much. I mean, at this point, it’s kind of a pattern. Hero steps up, makes a speech, and then instantly dies.”

“Guess I’ll skip the speech. Thanks for the advice.”

“I mean, it doesn't matter if you make the speech or not. I’m still gonna kill you. Might as well make your last moments interestin’.”

“Nah. I don’t want to sound like you.”

They clash once more before backing off, Dream not wanting to take unnecessary risks with the amount of small cuts already on his person and Blade seeming as though he was taunting him, a conniving look in his eye. 

“So, do you have a martyr complex? Or just a death wish?”

“Neither. I’m going to stay breathing, thanks.” Dream steps forward, spotting an opening and recklessly challenging it. Blade fluidly dodges, akin to water, and slices at him. Wide open, he can only use his axe to direct the sword away, barely managing to not get hit. They jump into battle once more, as a stream of fire erupts from above. An arrow flies towards Siren in the corner of his vision. He masks a hiss of pain as the villain manages to land a slice on his leg.

“Not for long.”

“Long enough.”

“Die.” The Blade returns simply, going in for a vicious swipe. Dream swiftly evades.

“I’m not dying anytime soon.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Dream jolts back as Blade, with a cocky smirk, lunges towards him after swiping a deep slice across the side of his chest, catching the hero off guard in a deadly mistake. The villain flips over him, but instead of finishing him off Blade uses his temporary stupor to slam something metal onto his left arm. 

A thick, netherite cuff, pulsing with the Repress II enchantment engraved onto the metal’s smooth surface.

The first few seconds, he was simply confused.

The next, he realizes The Blade had left himself wide open, somehow relaxed, sword even lowered. Perhaps it was a trap, but Dream leapt towards the supervillain anyways, desperation and adrenaline clouding general reason, toppling both of them onto the floor.

Through the yells and shouts of his teammates in his ear, he grapples for control, eventually ending in him knocking Blade’s sword out of his hand and pinning him to the floor. 

Heart pounding, unbelieving of the situation before him, Dream laughs in incredulity, even as he was struggling against Blade’s incredible brute strength. 

“You really thought I had powers ?” He can feel himself shaking from the strain of keeping the villain pinned, but he nonetheless persisted, arms burning. “Or, on second thought, this looks like a…” Dream laughs again, reckless elation pouring through him. For once, it didn’t seem hopeless.

For once, it seemed as though he might actually win.

“Newsflash, dude, ‘cause apparently ya don’t know— I’m a powerless human. No hybrid traits anywhere. Sucks to be you, being defeated by me. Ha!” He’s so nervous, and so excited yet scared that he can feel the blood rushing to his head and his heart beating in his ears. 

Because now that he actually has a chance to win, he’s utterly terrified of the chance to lose.

“Lucky shot.” The Blade snarls aggressively, trying to flip their positions but Dream stays in control, though struggling to do so.

“Damn, must be some really bad luck to get beaten by a guy with zero powers.” Grunting with effort, he leaves one arm and body weight to keep the supervillain pinned and reaches for the cuffs strapped to his belt, also enchanted with Repress II. Unlike Dream however, the enchantment would be detrimental in terms of Blade’s overall combat ability.

He doesn’t manage to get them on.

A winged shadow swoops in and rough hands seize him by the wrist of his outstretched arm, yanking him into the air. 

“What the fuck !” Dream screams, struggling but then freezing in terror as he looks down and realizes just how high up he is, the tops of the building already far below. The Angel of Death keeps a tight hold onto him, the horrid weight of the avian’s ability crashing down onto him.

Dream feels like Atlas from the classic Greek myths with the weight of the literal world on his shoulders. It’s tons and tons of nonexistent weight, seemingly crushing him and leaving him choked for air even though there was nothing but the clamped hand over his wrist. The cuff on his free arm already subdued his abilities (as useless as they were in combat, one being healing unusable on himself and the other the ability of Luck to save him from mortal danger, which was good except that it barely worked half the time now), but The Angel’s ability seemed to multiply the effect a hundred fold.

I need to get out of his hold. I’ll pass out in a minute, and die in the next if I don’t.

But if I get out of his hold, I’ll fall, and then I’ll die anyway.

But there was a chance to live if he could get Angel to let him go. And if he was going to drop, it was better to drop earlier before he was taken any higher.

All of a sudden, Dream swung his legs upwards to throw The Angel off balance, using his knowledge of avian flight mechanics and his own skills to twist himself into a flip midair, forcefully wrenching his wrist out of the villain’s grip.

The Angel of Death swung his sword. The blade slices cleanly into his right shoulder, just barely missing his neck because of his spinning motion.  

He fell.

Dream stiffened, eyes widened and mouth opened in a silent scream as he plummeted, hood sweeping off his head as he faced the rapidly approaching ground. Horror and terror overtook his senses.

The wind roared in his ears, panic seizing him as his mind scrambled for something, anything, to try and survive-

His body snapped to a halt midair, chest colliding with someone’s shoulder, knocking the air out of his lungs.

Arms. Shaking but steady at the same time. As his plummet quickly morphed into a swift glide, Dream’s stomach lurched in relief as he caught sight of the familiar fire-like wings, his friend having caught him — albeit a bit messily, but that was better than being dead — bridal style as he’d been falling, quite an impressive feat.

Sapnap lets him down on the pavement. “You good?” The avian asks, although his tone reveals his underlying anxiety, gaze snapping to Dream’s numerous wounds. The other didn’t look any better, however.

“Good enough.” 

Sapnap turned, and then tensed, arms igniting into flame. He spotted The Blade, murderous intent already prominent in his eyes. Beside him, The Angel swooped down, netherite sword gleaming with enchantments. “Got a plan, XD? Your call.”

Dream’s eyes gleamed from underneath the mask, solutions already forming in his mind, running the maze of different outcomes over and over until he settled on one singular path. Finally, he pulled out a Strength potion and downed it in a singular gulp, the acidic taste burning in his throat before pulling his hood back over his head and messy dyed hair.

“Alright. All you need to do is draw The Angel away, but stay above me. When I give you the signal, give me your best distraction. Half moon style, facing me. Got it?”  

“Clear as fog.” Sapnap joked, but rolled his eyes at Dream’s responding glower. “Okay, okay, I get it, I get it.”

Dream darts away from a sudden stab, the sword separating him and Sapnap. Quickly he parries more blows in rapid succession, The Blade’s irises seemingly glowing with bright red. 

“Sorry to interrupt your strategizin’. Hope I didn’t mess you up or anythin’.” The Blade’s face remains expressionless, guarded. Dream grits his teeth, the sheer speed of the attacks making it impossible for him to do anything but defend, lest he be skewered. In the corner of his eye, two pairs of wings, one dark as night and the other sentient flame take to the skies, bursts of fire lighting the air.

He didn’t bother responding, instead carefully maneuvering his steps into position, taking glances at Sapnap above him and adjusting as needed while being cautious to not get hit. 

Dream slipped away from another slice just as Blade lunged forward, sword flashing in a lethal arc. He ducks, slapping the weapon away purposefully imperfectly, making the movement just late enough to look like a slip in attention, a lucky flinch.

“Slowin’ down already? That cuff givin’ you any trouble?”

He didn’t answer, only backed up, raising his axe in front of him. 

Dream glanced upwards again. Sapnap was a few steps off. 

The Blade advanced, cutting at him again. This time, he narrowly missed the block. A lapse in focus, but one he could afford. One he encouraged, actually.

Everything had to fall perfectly into place.

Another attack. Another narrowly missed block. He counted the steps.

One, two.

The Blade feinted to the right then attacked on the left. Dream sidesteps, the tip of the sword knicking his leg. 

Three, four.

He attempts a slice but is easily parried. Dream snaps his neck back and blocks using the hilt of his axe, sword narrowly beheading him. He pivots and plays defensive once more against an onslaught of assaults. 

Five.

The Blade steps forward–

and boxed himself into the checkmate Dream had set up five moves ago.

Six. 

“Now, Phoenix!”

In an instant, a cascade of fire rains down around The Blade, covering him on all sides except one facing Dream, sparks flying and the intense heat suffocating to breathe in. The tidal wave of heat hit him then, the wall dropping like a guillotine of extremely bright light. Sapnap didn’t have enough strength to keep the display going on for more than a second or two, but that was all he needed.

The sky bled fire.

One perfect distraction.

Because why play fair when victory is better?

He darts forward and slips past The Blade, who was beginning to get blinded by the sheer amount of smoke. He dodged a retaliating strike just as the curtain of fire raised once more.

Now here was the most risky part of this plan. The Angel of Death wasn’t pinned. Dream would be relying on Sapnap’s own skills and possibly George in order to make sure they stayed safe. 

The villain sliced at him. What followed was an intense trading of blows, him giving his all and rising to meet The Blade’s attacks, darting around to avoid getting hit and to land hits of his own, twisting and turning and winning.

Dream hooks the sword underneath the axe and twists, flinging the weapon out of Blade’s hand. Immediately he pushes forward. He turned, kicked out one of the supervillain’s legs and then blatantly shoved him onto the floor while dodging his ferocious punches, which was no easy feat, even with the effects of a Strength I potion.

The Blade is on his back, eyes widened as Dream brings down his axe.

He slows it just enough.

Blade catches the axe with his hands, palms on either side of the blade, red eyes in a panicked state that seemed out of place on the supervillain’s face. Dream puts a bit more pressure, and the piglin tenses, pressing his palms into the axe.

Got you.

He slammed cuffs around Blade’s wrists and they clicked shut like a full stop at the end of a sentence.

Their eyes met. Dream’s, though masked, brimmed with triumph. The Blade’s froze, brimming with fury and surprise.

That is, until he kicked the villain in the face.

Panting, he relaxed, Blade’s form slumping and eyelids fluttering shut. His entire body shook as he lowered his axe, labored breaths in the air as the effects of the potion dimmed.

“SHIT!” Sapnap screams into the comms. George yells too, a cacophony of noise and alarm. 

“XD, behind you-”

Dream scrambled back to attention but almost immediately felt the consequences of his mistake.

A sword enters his back.

He choked out blood, stumbling forward. In an instant, The Angel’s large dark wings slam him into the concrete. Rolling over, disoriented, he jumps to his feet, temporarily blinded. 

A pair of wings enters his vision and he flinches backwards, stumbling, instinctively slicing at the appendages.

“Woah! XD it’s me, it’s me!” 

The darkness in his vision finally clears up. Sapnap stands before him, hands raised in the ‘surrender’ action. Behind him was George, one hand outstretched towards him. Both were injured, covered in blood and uniforms practically destroyed, but they were both alive. Dream calms, still panting. He barely gets his words out. 

“Whe-where’s-”

“Angel took off with Blade.” Sapnap explained.

George jumped in. “Siren bolted a bit ago, while you were dueling it out with that wonderful plan of yours, and yes, we’re sure… you’re not dying, are you?” A sudden spike of fear shot through his voice, even despite his nonchalant words.

Dream waves him off, already uncorking a potion bottle. One of his newer brews, just lately having hit the public market. One Regeneration and two Instant Health potions later and he felt the pain in his back dissipate until it was entirely gone. He reached behind to touch where the fabric was torn and felt bloodied but smooth skin instead of a stab wound. “It was a wonderful plan. I beat him, didn’t I?” 

And oh, it was surreal when it was happening in front of his eyes, but saying it out loud seemed to bring back those feelings of triumph, excitement, nervousness and surprise all in one rush of emotion. He would’ve yelled in prevailance if he wasn’t too out of breath to speak properly.

Sapnap came across as no different, a huge beaming smile spreading across his face. 

“Shit, you’re right. Oh shit! Shit, we beat them! Oh, we didn’t just beat them, we fucking demolished them! You should’ve seen me, XD, I literally hit Angel so many fucking times–”

“Language, Phoenix, Prime.” But Dream smiled anyway, a tired one but a smile nonetheless. George rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Phoenix.”

“Fuck you 404, I can swear as much as I want.”

“Mimimi, I’m Phoenix, I’m a fucking idiot- ”

“Language!” Sapnap taunted. George retorted. “Fuck you, I don’t need to listen to you. What, is your name Halo now?”

“Guys, settle down, come on, we just won a battle to the death and you’re fighting?” He butted in. His words grounded him a little more.

Yeah, we won, didn’t we? Dream turned to look at his friends again. And we’re all alive.

Yeah, we’re all alive.

“Anyway, I need to sit down.” George said abruptly, apparently forgetting his mock argument with Sapnap in a second. “I’m tired.”

Dream quickly shook his head. “No, no, you might pass out. We just need to wait for the medical team to get here. How many potions does everyone have left?”

“None.” Answered Sapnap. 

George tugged out a bottle glimmering with a bubblegum pink colored solution of Regeneration. “This is my last one.”

Dream pulled out his last bottle as well, a deep red potion of Instant Health. It was unfortunate that he couldn’t have brought more, but healing and regeneration were both on low stock due to the injuries sustained because of The Syndicate’s murder rampage of a debut. “Okay. We can share these last two.” 

They huddled up closer together and slammed the two potions onto the concrete beneath their feet, then sat back (metaphorically) and waited for an ambulance.

A few hours later, injuries and fatigue beginning to catch up on them, all three members of the Dream Team were sitting in the medical bay of the main tower of Hero Central, the headquarters of the hero organization, HC. They had been quickly directed into a private side-room, one door with privacy glass installed and the opposite side to the entrance made entirely of glass, the shades pulled down due to the darkness of the night outside. 

It’d been late morning when they’d begun their fight; it was early evening now, though the battle had ended many hours prior. 

Dream watched as Sapnap and George were patched up, having simply downed another potion while waiting (they were short on staff due to the late hour and many other injured, and he wanted to stop the bleeding) and was tended to by another healer a while later once both of his friends were knocked out cold from exhaustion. He might be nearing a potion overdose if he drank any more, and most would actually already be experiencing the beginning symptoms, but Dream had always had a bit of a higher tolerance when it came to magic.

Potion overdoses were still no joke, however. Ranging from the unpleasant but not fatal repercussions from only drinking 5-6 potions such as nosebleeds, headaches, vomiting, fevers and a racing pulse to the more moderate symptoms of 7-8 including internal pain, violent muscle cramps, tiredness, and loss of coordination and sight to finally the worst outcomes of 9-10 potions, which, if you drank that many while knowing the consequences, Dream believed that what would happen you next would be entirely deserved.

Organ failure, seizures, bleeding from the eyes and ears, psychotic breakdowns, your abilities surging out of control, and most commonly, death by internal implosion as your body fails to contain the amount of magic overloading your system and as a result, collapses. 

Being careful was essential. Dream was quite knowledgeable on potion effects due to his studies on such, and had known for a very long time that he had a higher resistance, similar to a heavyweight drinker. 

A bit later, Sapnap was — predictably, considering the amount of firepower he’d unleashed, a fair bit more than he usually did — still passed out, and George had just woken up. Dream was seated in a chair between the other two beds, foregoing his own.  

He glanced down at the enchanted netherite cuff still tightly clamped around his wrist. Giving an experimental tug, Dream found that it hadn't budged an inch. 

Oh well. It wasn't causing him any trouble, so he could deal with it later.

“Siren talks way too much.” George was commenting on his own battle. Or rather, complaining. “He needs to learn how to shut the fuck up, because it was annoying as hell.”

“I think that was the point.” Dream responded, amused. “To annoy you.”

“Yeah, well, I shot him so much he looked like a pincushion, so that’s karma.”

The door opens with a click. A healer trainee steps in, a silver name plaque sewn into his medical coat with Ponk written on it catching Dream’s attention. The healer looks up from his clipboard and stops with a frown directed at Dream. 

“What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting.” Ponk looked confused. “Wait, aren’t you a top hero? What are you doing in the main medical bay?”

A trainee, probably, though by his looks seemed to be a fairly older one. All the other senior doctors in the main medical centre knew that he was usually here because Sapnap and George weren’t top heroes yet, meaning they didn’t have clearance to use the private medbay. It was a stupid rule, if you asked Dream.

Maybe I should go persuade Schlatt. He mused. I could definitely pull it off.

Dream, not wanting to explain all his reasoning to this new guy, just shrugged in response, saying, “I’m all patched up. No untended wounds or anything.”

“You shouldn’t be up still.” the healer trainee insisted. George snorted, loudly, which made both heads turn to him. Dream’s friend waved a dismissive hand to the other man. 

“Don’t even try. Only one guy’s ever been able to get this idiot to listen to reason.” 

Dream bristled. “I’m perfectly reasonable.”

“In everything other than being injured, yeah.” 

Ponk continued to stand there, fairly confused. “..Ookay.” The healer said with some good amount of bewilderment. "I still insist on you resting, regardless of whether or not you think you’re fine. Which you’re not, by the way. I’ll be back in a bit.” The healer stopped before adding, "Sirs."

George coughed as Ponk left, laughing at the man's previous sarcastic remark. Dream turned with a glare, opening his mouth.

“You better not say that you’re fine, you muffinhead.”

He whipped his head around and jumped up so fast his head spun, not that he cared. A huge smile came across his face. 

“Halo! You’re awake!”

The demon hybrid was pushed into the room with a wheelchair by another doctor, who left after receiving a nod from Halo. Their friend looked scary enough on the outside, with pure white eyes, horns, and deep black skin as well as a tail, but on the inside he was just a really big softy. Despite the casts on his tail, leg and neck as well as the numerous bandages, Bad had a wide smile on his face. “I am!”

“How are you?” Dream and George asked at the same time. 

“I’m good! I’m good, are you good? You don’t look so good, XD, you should really go lay down.” 

“I’m fine.” Dream protested, although weakly. With one disapproving look from Bad, he immediately folded, moving back over to his bed and sitting on the edge, ignoring the hybrid’s chastising look.

“I woke up right before you left.” Bad explained. “I saw you fighting, actually. It was all over the news. I can’t believe you actually beat Blade, XD.”

“Yeah, I did.” Dream’s grin didn’t waver. 

George rolled his eyes, muttering, “I beat Siren.”

“But,” Bad went on, “you should’ve been more careful. You almost died, you muffinhead.”

“Yeah, XD, you should be more careful and not be a fucking idiot.” 

“Language, 404!” Bad sounded personally offended. 

“Fuck.” 

“XD!” George and Dream both burst out laughing at Bad’s displeased expression. “Language!”

“Fuckk.” Sapnap suddenly groaned, a hand flying to his bandaged head. The demon hybrid squawked in protest. “Oh, hey Bad. Wait- Bad?! ” 

The avian snapped upright, wings smacking into the bed frame. He blinked rapidly before stopping. “Oh. I’m not hallucinating. Hey, Bad. How you doin’?”

“I’d be better if you stopped swearing!” Bad’s voice was more tired than usual, lacking its usual amount of vigor, but still his — happy, warm, playfully scolding, this time with a touch of relief. “Muffinhead. You look like you lost a fight with a fork.”

“We would’ve liked to bring you along, but you were too busy being in a coma.” Sapnap sulked, with a mischievous glint in his eye. “That’s so dumb, Bad. What’d you get into a coma for?”

The other spluttered. “W- Well , it’s not like I wanted to be!”

“Still, that’s fucking dumb.”

“ Sapnap! Language!” A smirk came onto the avian’s face as he chortled, Bad shaking his head. 

“I mean, Sap’s got a point, being in a coma is pretty dumb.” Bad whipped his head towards Dream, dissatisfaction evident. All he got in a response was a cheeky grin. In the background, George was desperately trying to snuff his laughter. 

“Anyway, you would’ve been proud, Bad, I didn’t swear that much during the fight.”

“Sapnap, the first thing you said when you woke up was a swear.” Bad responded. Immediately, George followed, “That’s a lie, you swore more than XD and me combined.”

“It’s XD and I, get your grammar right.”

“What would you know about grammar, you dropped out of high school!”

“So did you!”

As the pair bickered, Bad turned to Dream, visibly exasperated but wearing a fond expression. “Muffinheads.”

“They’re gonna wake up the whole tower at this rate.” He nodded, amused. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time. You know Sapnap actually got banned from the third tower once.”

“He did?”

“It was before you came.”

Sapnap and George had both become heroes by entering HC’s Young Heroes program at the ages of fourteen and fifteen respectively and become friends due to both being trainees of Warden. Dream, on the other hand, had been introduced at newly seventeen years old and without a mentor. Even so, he’d somehow managed to become friends with the two idiots, no matter how much he’d disliked them at first.

After a brief silence, Dream spoke up. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Bad.” 

That was the honest-to-Prime truth. Bad was kind, empathetic, responsible and selfless, all traits of a great hero, which made it very reasonable as to why Halo was the rank #3 hero of the city. 

Even Sapnap and George didn’t know his civilian identity nor what he truly looked like, but if there was anyone besides them he would reveal his identity to first, it would be Bad.

As if exhibiting his heroic and selfless traits, Bad glanced over at him with a confused look. “Me? I’m glad you’re okay, XD. You- you fought The Syndicate today. You almost died. ”

Dream shrugged. “Yeah. But we didn’t. And even if I had, Sapnap and George sure as hell wouldn’t have. Nor would anybody else have died because of those villains. I’d’ve made sure of it.” 

Bad rolled his chair closer to his bed, putting a hand on his leg, as bloodstained as it was. “You don’t need to be responsible for everything, XD. You’re selfless enough as it is.”

Me? Selfless? 

But aren’t I- that doesn’t make sense-

Aren’t I-

Through his stunned silence, Bad continued. “When I woke up, I thought you guys were dead. I've never wanted to strangle and hug you guys more.”

Attempting to disguise the utter dumpster fire that was his emotions at the moment, he managed to choke out, “You can do both. I can take it.”

“Yeah.” Bad whispered suddenly, lowering his voice so as to make sure he wasn’t overheard. “Yeah, you could. And you’ve been carrying a lot for too long, XD.” Despite the fact that the demon hybrid held no pupils nor irises, Dream could tell his eyes were moving over to his left collarbone, to the fading scars that had been revealed, much to his horror, after a run-in with a dangerous supervillain during a partner patrol with Halo. When he’d first become a hero.

Bad. Hero alias Halo, rank #3 hero, demon hybrid, selfless, kind, empathetic, responsible, thoughtful. Brother figure. 

And the one person in Hero Central that knew his secret. 

Not much of it, but he knew.

“Th-Thanks.” Dream wheezed, out of breath, not knowing what else to say. Bad responded with another fleeting smile before turning to the other two people in the room, somehow still deep in their argument.

“You muffins! Quit arguing or I’ll make sure you never have another one of my muffins again!”

Both George and Sapnap stopped immediately. “You wouldn’t dare!” They gasped simultaneously.

“I would. Now go sleep. From now on, you guys need at least eight hours of sleep, balanced meals and not just those hero-sanctioned energy bars,” Bad scolded, “and drink at least four cups of water a day.”

Dream opened his mouth.

“XD, you’re not exempt.”

“ What ,” He groaned. “Come on, Bad, I saved the city-”

“ We saved the city-” George cut him off. 

“And now you’re going to rest before you save anything else, muffinhead.” Bad jumped in, finalizing the decision with his tone of voice.

Dream flopped onto his bed. “This is oppression.” 

“This is hydration.” Bad corrected, handing him a plastic cup full of clear water. “And healthy habits.”

“I liked you better when you were unconscious.” Dream pouted.

“He doesn’t mean that.” George chimed in. “He stayed awake for three days straight when he first heard, and then slept in a chair beside your bed for another week–”

“I’m taking away your potion access.” 

“Wait, no, XD- I’m sorry!” Bad shook his head as George pleaded.

“Nah, XD’s like toasted marshmallow — burnt on the outside, all gooey and soft on the inside.” Sapnap added while not looking up, having somehow masterfully twirled his blankets and pillow into a makeshift nest. “Hey, George, can you pass me those extra pillows?”

“Hey-fuck, George, let go of me–”

“Nope!” The other responded cheerfully, having a tight grip on Sapnap’s wrist. 

“Don’t you fucking dar-” The avian’s sentence cut short as he passed out, flopping into his nest face first with his fire-like wings curling over him. 

George smirked mischievously. “Now that’s karma.” 

Bad sighed. “What a bunch of muffinheads. And XD, I’d better see you drinking that water–”

Dream saluted. “Yes, sir.”

The room settled into a calm sort of quiet.

Bad’s previous words still circled in his ears and head, replaying over and over again until he finally made sense of them. 

You’ve been carrying a lot for too long, XD.

For the first time in too long, Dream laid back-

 and let go of the weight.