#c.dwt.fic

The air was cold, crisp. It shouldn’t have felt like a new sensation, in fact Dream had been to this very area, with the very same air, many times before, but after almost a year of nothing but hot and sticky air next to boiling lava, well anything could feel brand new. Snow too, he had forgotten how it crunched underfoot, how walking could include softness instead of hot hard obsidian. The wind was new as well, cold and brisk, blowing his hair (now too long for his liking) into his face. There had been bursts of wind in prison, when Sam had lowered the lava, the boiling air in the cell would get sucked away from him, towards Sam and whoever else was waiting on the other side (usually Quackity), before rushing back in to fill the space it had left behind. Or it had felt like rushing, with actual wind to compare to again, Dream realised it was more of a slow trickle. 

Out of the four members of the syndicate, only two could easily tolerate him, and another was dead. Phil and Techno clearly cared in their own ways (no matter how hard Techno tried to deny it), but Niki was another thing. Niki just didn’t like him, which was fair enough Dream supposed, he had never made an effort to be kind to her, he had almost forgotten she existed after Wilbur had died. That, and the early L’manburg days must have cemented a certain idea of him for her. He was ok with that. She had helped to break him out - however much she hated him couldn’t stop her from acknowledging the conditions of the prison were terrible, and she kept to her morals as an anarchist that all prisons were bad. She kept to her morals despite hating him, he could respect that.

Rationalising who and who not to trust, that was another thing he had almost forgotten how to do. He had known he couldn’t trust Sam, or Quackity, he had known he could somewhat trust Techno, not completely, never completely. He didn’t know if Sapnap would actually take up his promise from the prison, he hadn’t yet, he’d almost let Dream go free and only fought him when Dream attacked. But then again, so much had changed between the two that Dream wasn’t even sure he knew Sapnap anymore. He doubted Sapnap would care to get to know the new him, not that Dream would let him anyway. He needed Sapnap to hate him, he needed to count on his brother’s arrogance and hatred.

Although it was part of the plan, even though Dream had literally told Techno to do so, when he asked for the netherite armour back, it had hurt. But he had complied, he had run away saying he owed Techno a favour, had run away to Punz. And Prime was he happy to see Punz again, even for how short the visit had to be, he needed to keep his friends safe, he couldn’t let anyone else die. Ranboo’s death was unfortunate, even if when he died he didn’t know Dream’s true intentions, it was the Ranboo with full memories that knew, not the Ranboo who had been locked up, not the Ranboo who had died. It was sad that Dream had to leave him in the afterlife; from what he’d heard from Tommy, it wasn’t exactly fun. But then Dream had had to deal with months of torture, starvation and isolation. Ranboo knew the plan, knew the risks, well sometimes he did, he had agreed to it all. Dream didn’t know how he’d react now he did actually get hurt. It hadn’t been part of the plan, for Sam and Quackity to go off the rails, but he’d work around it anyway, nothing ever went entirely to plan, the real skill was working around those hiccups and continuing on anyway, no matter the cost.

When Dream and Sapnap were kids, they would always make treehouses together. When they got a bit older and could take care of themselves more, they’d often run away for a few days at a time and live in badly built treehouses instead of resorting to caves. Often it was just a couple of beds, a chest, a furnace and a crafting table on a treetop, but sometimes Dream would try and make it look prettier, especially when they were on bigger trees with more room. Sapnap always burnt them down by the end of their trip, when they’d finally had enough of each other to get mad over something stupid and come back home to be around different company for a bit. Dream had always tried to help him through it first though, help him when he was feeling down or too angry for his own good. They were brothers, he was always going to help Sapnap, even if it cost him everything. Sapnap had said later, when they had met again after the nightmare armour fight, that Dream had betrayed him, that Dream had betrayed them all. But he hadn’t betrayed Sapnap, right? They had been brothers, had promised each other they’d help each other through everything no matter what. Dream had always been there for Sapnap, had always tried to help even when he thought Sapnap was being an idiot or was acting out of anger, why had Sapnap not been there to help him? Even if he had been in the wrong, even if everything he had had been too much, Sapnap would have pulled him back, right? Dream had forgotten how many fights he had pulled Sapnap out of when they were younger, when Sapnap had been so hot headed and made all the wrong decisions, surely Sapnap would have returned the favour, would have helped him. Why hadn’t he?

He needed new bases, areas where he could hang out and hide when necessary, and so he decided to make one near Techno’s base. Despite herding Tommy there, he felt somewhat safe around Techno. It was dangerous, to let himself feel safer around someone who he didn’t trust not to betray him, but he did anyway. A treehouse he’d make, for old times sake, to remind him of why he was doing all this. Spruce trees were the most common around the syndicate base, unfortunately four by four ones would stick out too much, they weren’t native to the area, but a good spruce tree would do the trick. He chose a tree in the forest outside the base, hidden enough that nobody would find it easily, close enough that he could run to Techno if he needed help. But why would he do that? Dream could handle things himself mostly, he needed help occasionally, but he could handle a fight. Pretending to be helpless before he got taken to prison had been annoying, he could have so easily escaped and fought some of them. Why would he need to run to Techno?

One thing he hadn’t anticipated however, was the tiredness. He guessed his body was finally in a place to fix up and rest, but that meant he was tired so much, some days he was so tired he couldn’t get out of bed. Other times his hands wouldn’t stop shaking, to the point where he guessed even Tommy could fight him and win. He hated it, he needed to be able to work, to fight, to move. He needed to not need help. He was getting better though, as much as he hated to admit it, Phil’s advice to sleep more did help. He didn’t want to sleep, he wanted to train, to gain back the strength he had lost, to become someone who could look after himself. The base near Techno’s became his usual hiding spot, which was bad. He didn’t want to be close to Tommy, now living with the Syndicate as per his plan, or near Techno and show how close they were. But he did need Techno’s help, with him being tired too much, he needed Techno or Punz to help him out with simple tasks. Techno was easier to explain, even if it would set back the plan more in the short term, Punz was trusted more by everyone, he wasn’t the one who broke him out of prison, no Punz was the one who had “betrayed” him and helped put him in the prison to begin with. 

“Well, looks like you’ve finally got a home Dream,” Techno joked at him a few weeks into recovery, after Dream had finally stayed in the same place for more than three days in a row.

“I don’t wanna live here,” Dream replied.

“HEH, what, you actually want to be homeless?”

Dream didn’t want to be homeless, he wanted to not have to rely on them. He wanted to be able to live by himself, work by himself. Relying on others made him feel weak, well he was weak but he wanted - needed to get better. Relying on others had led to him thinking Sam wouldn’t let anyone in to torture him, he couldn’t let that happen again. Besides, he had always had multiple homes, small places stacked with chests and other useful items in a small area, he was never the kind of person to settle down in one place. He always had to be on the move, always had to be avoiding everyone else.

“Living alone would be better than living with your stinky ass,” Dream said, trying to turn the conversation away from being serious, and also Techno did smell like a pig. 

They were in the training area below the bridge between Techno and Phil’s houses, another new addition he had to get used to, one that Tommy hadn’t been let onto so Dream had an area within their base to be safe, where they could act like the friends they were without having to hide parts of themselves. 

Long gone were the days of Techno living in a hut alone in the middle of nowhere, like he had said when he first arrived at the prison, Techno had friends now. Friends who would back him up, even one who had helped him save someone she didn’t like from the Prison, and presumably make an enemy out of Sam in the process. 

The walls were a fake sky, the air was stale, but it was cold, and there was more than just obsidian and lava. Dream felt claustrophobic in contained spaces now, he hated that he felt such a stupid fear. He had tried to hide it, the sweating palms and shaking, when he first arrived, but they had noticed. It was a miracle nobody had used it against him yet. 

But no, they had suggested ways to help, ways to calm himself down. It was annoying, he didn’t want nor need their help. OK, maybe he did need it, considering the panic attack he had almost had just entering the nether for the first time after escaping, but this was short lived, he shouldn’t get used to kindness, kindness towards him wouldn’t save the server.

Techno had a look in his eyes, something akin to sadness, or regret. 

“Don’t fucking pity me Techno,” Dream said.

“Bruhhhhh, my monetization!”

He was having a bad day, a terrible day. He couldn’t get out of bed, he was too weak, too tired, he must have worked too hard the day before. He was trapped again. He had to get out, he couldn’t be trapped again. His room was bigger than the cell but not by much, his bed was smaller. He had to get out. 

He tried getting up, only to collapse to the floor, unable to convince his muscles to move him any further. He was so tired, yet too awake. He needed air, he needed to move, he couldn’t move. 

He managed to get a message to someone, Techno. He hated that he did, hated that he had called for help he really didn’t need. If only he could just walk he would be fine, he would be able to get out, be able to move. Now Techno would have to see him in this pathetic state. 

A hand rested on his back, and Dream used all the energy he could muster to jerk away. He didn’t want pity. Was someone talking to him? He could only just hear something over the blood rushing in his ears. He was drowning, he was going to suffocate. 

Blocks were broken and light cascaded into the room, the cold air hit him and forced itself into his lungs, he could breathe again.

Techno came to sit next to him, helping Dream untangle the sheets from his legs.  

“Let’s help you back into bed,” Techno said softly.

Dream shook his head, he didn’t think he could manage words. He couldn’t go back into bed, the air was helping but he was still trapped. Although, if he wanted to get out he’d have to be carried so maybe it was better to stay. But he couldn’t, fuck. If he wanted to get out, and he needed to get out, he’d have to rely on Techno’s help again. He thought he was past this, he didn’t need their help as much, at least not this much. He was just using his and Phil’s friendliness until he could get away again, he didn’t want to need their help. 

“Needin’ help isn’t a bad thing Dream,” Techno said quietly. He was still sitting on the floor next to Dream, not touching him but there nonetheless. 

“There’s not anyone who doesn’t need help at some point,” He continued. 

And yeah, while Techno was technically correct, but Dream wasn’t a kid anymore. He could do this by himself. Except he couldn’t. 

“Don’t need a lecture,” Dream managed to get out, his voice quieter than usual, softer much to his disliking. He sounded as weak as he felt.

“Yeah but now I’ve got you trapped here I can talk all I want till I need to help with something.” So that was it then, Techno was going to talk at him until he asked for help. 

“You’re using my disability against me,” Dream said, he was slowly regaining enough energy to speak more easily, but unfortunately for him he still didn’t have enough energy to move away from a certain ranting anarchist.

Techno chuckled, before continuing, “I know you want to be independent, we all do, and independence is good in a way, but the thing is, Dream, the thing is no person has ever lived entirely independently. Even after childhood, bro, you didn’t make your own clothes, and if you did you didn’t make the fabric. You don’t cook all the food you’ve ever eaten, or looked after all the crops or animals. You didn’t learn everythin’ by yourself. You see, Dream, you’re a person, and people weren't made to live on their own. We live in communities for a reason, and we should rely on each other to help everyone out. It makes less work in the long run as well. Dream, everyone deserves help, you included. Well, everyone but orphans of course, but that’s another thing,” Techno was rambling, he wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this talk,

“Your old friends, they should have been there for you, to help you out of the hole you dug yourself, to stop you before you went too far. They didn’t help you, or maybe couldn’t, but don’t think you have to be by yourself just because others failed you. Now this doesn’t mean you can avoid responsibility, you still did all those things, but they should have been there to try and stop you at least. You’re my friend,” Dream refused to admit there were tears in his eyes, “and I'm not going to let you destroy yourself again.”

“Just… take me outside.”

He was waiting at the top of Punz’s tower, not because he needed the guy to do anything, just because he was lonely. He had admitted to Punz that the isolation had gotten to him, and well, maybe it was still getting to him. Not that he’d admit that, Phil and Techno were nice, when they could sneak away, but Punz was his friend, the person who knew about the plan from the start, who had agreed from the start. Dream was hidden, just in case they came back with company, which was unlikely, but still possible. The people of the server never did respect boundaries, and it had been the day Dream had escaped that Punz had managed to get rid of Hannah and a few others from claiming to live at the top of the tower. It had been perfect timing, but annoying to find out nonetheless. Punz did come, it took a while but he did come back to his tower. Dream slipped out from behind the chests, his body sore from staying in the same position for too long. His mask was pushed to the side, allowing Punz to see his expression, a weak smile and too tired eyes. He still wasn’t sleeping well, but it was better, he was getting better, he had to keep telling himself that. 

“Hey man, you good?” Punz asked, seeming worried for Dream. And Dream felt that, for once, he wasn’t disgusted by the worry. 

“Yeah, just,” he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t want to actually worry Punz, “might have to slow down the plan a bit,” he decided, a partial truth to make it look like he was taking care of himself, “it’s taking a bit to recover properly.”

“Yeah sure man, just let me know when you’re ready, ok?” Punz said as they stepped closer to Dream, who was trying to not so visibly lean against the chests, “take it easy, and let me know if you need help.” 

Punz must have seen the face Dream made at that because he laughed, “I know I know, but seriously man, you’ve got me, I’ll take payment if it makes you feel better about it.” 

Dream nodded, he’ll definitely do that, he repays his debts. Feeling a little stronger, his muscles thanking him from changing position finally, he moved to leave.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll let you know when I’m ready to begin the next phase of the plan,” He said, looking back at Punz, who was looking through a chest.

“Yeah man, and wait,” Punz closed the chest and turned towards Dream, “Take this, if I remember correctly they’re your favourite.” Punz dropped a flower on the ground. A poppy. Dream moved forwards to pick it up (he had to throw out some seeds, why did he even have those in his inventory anyway?). A poppy, his favourite flower. He’d once joked with Sapnap and George that he would change the floor of the community house to grass with poppies, had Punz been there? How did he know? Why were there tears in his eyes? 

“I, uh, picked it up the day you went to prison,” Punz said, and Dream refused to look up, refused to let Punz see the tears, he just kept staring at the flower in his hands. He wanted to ask how Punz knew, but didn’t trust his voice not to give him away. He knew Punz could tell something was up, but he was too tired to hide his emotions, too tired of hiding, of pretending to be something he's not, of pretending to break parts of himself to keep Quackity happy, of healing and trying not to heal. 

This time when a hand touched his shoulder he didn’t pull away, no, he had been depriving himself of contact for too long. Maybe he did need a hug. 

Dream pulled closer to Punz, to his best friend, and wrapped his arms around him. Punz hugged him back - not saying anything much to Dream’s relief - and Dream pressed his head into Punz’s shoulder and finally let the tears flow. He cried for the first time in months, probably more than a year. He had held it in through the months playing the annoyingly yet unbroken prisoner, and before that as well, pretending to be the idiot who thought using everyone’s attachments to control them was a good idea. He had kept it in throughout all of that, since Sapnap had abandoned him, he had no one else, he had thought. Now over a year’s worth of tears were finally coming, and he was sobbing into Punz's shoulder, they were hugging tight. Prime, Dream had missed this. He hadn’t had human contact in a long time, well there was Techno in the prison, but they had tried to stay apart to avoid overheating. There had been Quackity’s fists. 

But he wasn’t there anymore, no he was in Punz’s tower, he was safe. He could let it all out, he could finally show his hurt, allow himself to feel hurt. Eventually he stopped, ran out of tears, but stayed in Punz’s arms a little longer. Punz hadn’t said anything, just held him tight and allowed Dream space to let the barriers and walls he kept up to crumble, allowing him to finally be free to show how he actually felt, to let go of everything and let everything come crashing out in one big wave of emotion. And so there Dream stayed, in Punz’s arms, feeling safer than he had in over a year.

Punz had gotten him a poppy. His poppy. Dream didn’t know whether to keep it locked up in his enderchest for safekeeping or to put it in a flower pot to see it in the open, to see it in sunlight and watch it’s petals ruffle in a breeze. To watch it get stolen. No! No, it wouldn’t get stolen. He would get it back, he won’t allow it to be used against him, he won’t let it be Spirit’s leather.

His poppy would be safe. He felt safe in Punz’s arms and his poppy would stay with him. 

The next time Techno visited Dream’s hideout by the arctic base, there was a poppy in a flower pot by the side of the bed. There was also Punz, sitting on the bed next to Dream. When Dream noticed him enter the base, he stood up, a grin clear on his face, mask moved aside. He went up to Techno and hugged him by surprise. Techno chuckled a little, surprised that Dream would so openly show affection, but hugged back anyway. He shot a confused look at Punz, who just grinned and gave him a thumbs up. 

“Thank you,” Dream said into Techno’s chest.

“Yeah, uh, no problem, man,” Techno said back, both confused and happy with this new development, “so, Dream, what's the next step of this plan of yours?”

Dream stepped out of the hug, 

Techno had just made it back when the sirens sounded out across the SMP. Long, drawn out notes signalling what he did to everyone, well they didn’t know it was Techno who broke Dream out yet, but they did know he was out. 

Phil, Ranboo and Niki were in the small underground room they had carved out for Dream, well hidden and almost impossible to find: the perfect hiding spot. Phil took one look at the state of Dream and rushed to make healing and regen pots. Ranboo left immediately. He went to Snowchester to see Micheal and pretend nothing was happening, but the image of Dream’s body, what had been done to him in the prison, couldn’t leave his mind. Tubbo was also there, probably also trying to avoid the reality of Dream being out. Ranboo avoided the rest of the Syndicate members that day, he didn’t want to interfere with their healing and brewing, didn’t want to interfere with their sympathy for a hurt man. He didn’t sleep that night, instead he lay awake, restless, wondering who could have done that to somebody else, and how Dream sounded when he screamed. He put on a music dick to drown out the sounds of screaming in his mind.

Quackity, it had been Quackity. They found this out a few days later - well Techno had already known from his stay at the prison - it hadn’t been Sam as they had suspected, or Antfrost or Bad, but Quackity, someone who wasn’t even employed at the prison. The man who led the Butcher Army to try to execute Techno. 

Dream’s voice was barely audible when he had said the name, a hoarse whisper had sounded in the awkward silence that had permeated any room Dream had been in since he got there. His voice sounded like he hadn’t made a noise other than screaming in the last few weeks, and Ranboo supposed that he was probably right. The fact that Dream was in fact in front of them at the time was proof that he hadn’t told Quackity the revive book secrets - they all knew that book was the last thing keeping the broken man alive - so what else was there to do but scream.

It had been about three weeks since Phil and Techno had brought Dream - a bloody, barely alive Dream - back from the prison. Ranboo had wanted Dream dead, yes, but he couldn’t kill a man who couldn’t even walk, who had still healing wounds all over his body, who slept so much and yet couldn’t sleep at the same time. Ranboo wanted him dead, yes, but he wasn’t a monster. He wouldn’t have helped Tommy try and kill him if he knew the situation, he told himself. Or maybe it was different hearing it to seeing it. Would he have even been able to picture just how broken the once tyrant was? He was better than Dream, he told himself, he wouldn’t hurt him even more. He didn’t know why it was a shock to him, to see someone like Dream so hurt. He still hadn’t seen his face, had always been out of the room whenever he had removed his mask, did he have a face?

When Sam and Quackity came looking, and Ranboo had lied to them. They had advanced warning thanks to Niki, and had hidden Dream in the syndicate room. Dream had been reluctant to go through the lava, even though he knew there was water right under it. Only when they got warning that Sam had come through their nether portal did he jump in. Ranboo didn’t know why he hoped it’d be enough. If Quackity and Sam killed Dream, that would make his work easier. Still, he was reluctantly warming up to the masked man. The man that had hurt his friends, his husband, everyone he cares about. Maybe Techno got away with not being hurt by Dream, possibly Phil, but with what happened with Tommy did he deserve any forgiveness?

“You still haven’t found him?” He asked, “Oh that’s not good.” 

There was blood staining the handle of Sam’s pickaxe.

“He’s good at avoiding us, we think he must have help,” Sam said plainly, “He should be pretty weak still, if we can get him back before he regains his strength, there shouldn’t be need for alarm.” 

Ranboo nodded, “Ah, yes. I’ll keep a lookout, but I haven’t seen anything unusual lately. If I do, Sam, you will be the first to know.” 

He hadn’t wanted to address Quackity. As far as anyone knew, Quackity didn’t work for the prison. He only knew Quackity’s involvement from Dream and Techno. Nobody else on the SMP knew what was going on, apparently not even his boyfriends. Were they even together anymore? Nobody had seen the three together in a while, what would Sapnap and KArl think about all this? 

“And how, Ranboo, do we know we can trust you?” It was Quackity. Ranboo forced himself to look at him calmly, to not let on that he knew what Quackity did, that he was possibly worse than the green monster underground.

“Because I want Dream dead,” truth, “but if that doesn’t happen, letting him rot in prison is the second best outcome,” lie, “especially if it allows us access to the revive book,” another lie. But Sam and Quackity seemed to buy it, though Ranboo had to remind himself not to underestimate Quackity. The man was far more cunning than he let on. 

Ranboo made himself busy feeding the cat before heading to the meeting room. The cat, Patches, was a new edition. When Dream had found her, almost as thin as he had been, and somehow even scruffier, he had barely set her down enough to tame her. To the outside at least, the cat fit right in amongst all of Techno’s animals. Techno’s house was the perfect place to hide a stray pet in clear sight. Patches had fattened up since her arrival, as had Dream. Admittedly Ranboo hadn’t known Dream that well before all this, but he hadn’t recognised the man when Techno first brought him in. He was too skinny, too weak, too beaten up to be the man who had terrorised the whole server, who had blown up L’manberg. 

Who had beaten Tommy to death. 

He couldn’t move Patches, she was Dream’s cat, but when he killed Dream, when Dream was finally dead, he’d use water and boats to move her to a nice location where she would be comfy and warm her whole life. An apology for killing her owner, an apology for letting her be tamed by Dream of all people. 

Ranboo made his way to the meeting room. Dream was sat in one of the chairs, fiddling with his sleeve. 

“Are they gone?” He asked, his voice a whisper. He was so quiet, Ranboo had noticed since he had arrived, always speaking in a hushed tone. Ranboo knew he had the capability to be loud, he used to be a confident leader, then a mad villain, neither of whom had trouble making their voice heard. And now? Ranboo didn’t know what to make of who he was now. A broken person, perhaps, a reason never to take Quackity at his word. A person who had, long ago, hurt his friends. He had paid for that, though, Ranboo knew that. Dream had hurt enough, but he was still a threat. Nobody could learn in that prison, nobody could become better, Dream was still the horrible person that went in, just more broken now, he was still the person who had made exile happen, who had killed ghostbur, who had killed Tommy. 

“Yeah, they’re gone,” he answered, and noted how Dream visibly relaxed. He wondered if the old Dream would so clearly let his guard down in front of others. Except, Ranboo noted, he hadn’t. Dream was still on high alert, it was just something about Sam and Quackity’s presence being confirmed to be gone that meant he could relax, just a little. His eyes still darted across the room, he was still on high alert. It wasn’t like he could do anything, he was far too broken to help if something did happen, but the man wasn’t done fighting yet. He’d be a pain to kill once he was fully healed, Ranboo realised, but still, he wasn’t the monster Dream was. He wouldn’t kill an injured man.

Ranboo collapsed into a chair, one not facing Dream head on, and tried not to think of how Tubbo would react if he found out what was going on. An awkward silence filled the room, Techno was never good with words and neither Phil nor Ranboo knew how exactly to deal with Dream just yet. Well, when he was acting up, or when he was breaking down, Phil tried his best, calming the situation down and helping the broken green man while Ranboo always stood awkwardly by the side, there only to offer healing potions, or gapples, the knowledge that he was there and not trying to hurt him. Would it hurt him even more when he found out that Ranboo wanted him dead? Or did he not care? Tommy had said that Dream didn’t care about anything, but he clearly cared about Patches. 

Ranboo didn’t know why, but Phil had pulled him aside one day, a little after Dream brought Patches back, when he wouldn’t let anyone else near the small animal, and told him to never use Patches against Dream.

“Listen, mate, I know you may hate the guy, I understand. But, whatever you do, promise me you will never use that cat against him,” Phil had sounded so serious, and Ranboo wasn’t a horrible person so he had obviously agreed. Who would use something someone loved against a person? Hadn’t that been Dream’s plan for the vault? He wasn’t like Dream, he would never do that, even to someone he hated.

“And if that cat does die, don’t use her remains him either,” Phil had continued.

“Why would I do that? Who would do that?” Using a dead pet’s remains against someone, to try and manipulate someone. That was something only something old Dream would do, right?

“Tommy.”

Phil and Techno were discussing something in the corner, their voices low but not caring if they were overheard. Something about Kinoko Kingdom and how to deal with it being on top of Niki’s underground city. He was far too distracted by Dream’s fidgeting, he had started playing with his shirt sleeve again, before moving onto tapping the table. A constant reminder that the man who had hurt his husband, who had tried to kill tubbo, was right next to him, and Ranboo wasn’t doing anything about it. Not that he could with Phil and Techno in the room, and with Niki on her way, but still. The tapping continued, in no particular rhythm. Ranboo looked over to the masked man, who took his hands off the table slowly and went back to fiddling with his sleeve instead, and looked over to where Techno and Phil were.

“Kinoko Kingdom,” He said, his voice again quiet. Was it because he was so used to being talked over by now? So used to the knowledge that his words were only wanted if he said the knowledge that would lead to his death? Was it from all the screaming when Quackity- Ranboo didn’t want to think about it. It was probably him trying to lure them into a false sense of security, to help him get better then leave to hurt his friends yet again. That must be it, like Tommy had said, Dream was the master manipulator.

“Who’s in Kinoko Kingdom?” He finished asking.

“Karl, Sapnap and George, it was built above Niki’s base without her knowing,” Techno answered. 

Dream just nodded and stayed quiet. Ranboo didn’t know if it was because he didn’t care about Kinoko Kingdom - unlikely considering who was involved - or if he lacked the energy to react more. He always seemed tired, never showing much interest in anything beyond saving Patches and training, although Phil always made him stop training after too long, claiming it’d only hurt him more. Dream always protested, wanting to go on longer even when it was clear his body couldn’t take much more. Always desperate to get stronger. This was one of the few things Ranboo understood about Dream, he didn’t want to go back to the prison. But, when he was strong enough, when he was powerful enough to take on the entire server again and not get thrown into the prison again, into that torture box, what would he do? He could do anything. 

He used to be friends with Sapnap and George, Ranboo remembered someone saying, they used to be close. Then they weren't, and George was never around anyway. Even if they blew up Kinoko Kingdom today, he probably wouldn't notice until a few week's time. There was a time when Ranboo didn't have many friends too, especially no close ones. It was only really when Tommy was stuck in the prison as well when he became close to Tubbo, and he had talked to Fundy quite a bit before that, he hadn’t talked to Fundy for a while, in a very long time. He wondered how the fox was doing, where was he living now, anyway?

Tommy said Tubbo had married him "without his permission" what was that supposed to mean? Now that Ranboo thought about it a bit more, the more worried he got. Did Tommy really think Tubbo needed his permission to become close to someone? It may have been a joke, but if it was it wasn't an obvious one, and, if Ranboo was being honest, it was a bad joke. He'd think about it another time, when he didn't have to deal with hiding the man who killed Tommy, who almost killed Tubbo, from them. 

A few minutes later, Niki comes into the room. 

"Oh! It’s Niki" Philza greeted her with a smile. 

“Yes yes hello!” She cheerily waved at everyone, always bringing a brighter air to the place, especially since Dream had arrived. She brought out a loaf of bread, “look, it’s fresh out of the oven, but I think the snow might have chilled it a bit, but you’re all free to try some.”

Dream reached out to take some, his hands were scarred and his fingernails were still missing, still growing back from when Quackity- Ranboo forced himself to stop thinking about that, not just before food at least. 

Ranboo took some bread as well, it was still a little warm, not entirely cooled by the winter air. 

Dream took some as well, writing something in his book before showing it to Niki. He didn't talk much anymore, maybe his voice still hurt from all the screams but Ranboo suspected it was more than that, even when he did speak it was always quiet. 

Dream took off his mask so he could eat more easily, and Ranboo tried not to stare but he hadn't seen the man's face before. 

He was pale, and looked tired. Too pale, like he hadn't seen the sun in months, despite being back in the outside world for a few weeks now. And wasn't he supposed to have freckles? Ranboo remembered someone (was it Sapnap?) mentioning that he had freckles. Those too must have faded without the sun. He has scars on his face, which was unsurprising considering Quackity, and bags under his eyes. He was still healing from everything, meaning he had to sleep a lot more than the average person. He was still waking up every night screaming. When he bit down into the bread, Ranboo noticed a few missing teeth. Was that the work of Quackity as well? Or had months of only eating potatoes and not having proper hygiene taken its toll? 

Dream looked at Ranboo, having noticed his stare and Ranboo quickly looked away. He didn't want to make him uncomfortable, not after everything he had gone through. Wait a second, why didn't he want to make Dream uncomfortable? This was the man who had hurt Tommy and Tubbo so much, who was the cause of so many problems on the server, who had killed Tommy. After Tommy had killed Dream's cat - well maybe not Dream’s cat but an animal who he cared about - and had hit him multiple times. And he had brought him back afterwards. Even Ranboo had to admit he would probably have snapped at Tommy if he was in Dream's position, he wouldn't have killed him though. He was better than that, he was better than Dream. They had both been in the wrong, and had only made each other worse by being confined together. Ranboo made a mental note never to let any of his pets near Tommy, and to keep him under strict supervision when visiting Michael. 

Phil, Techno and Niki would be upset if he made Dream uncomfortable, that's why he didn't want to. That was the reason why and the small voice in the back of Ranboo's head was kindly asked to shut up. 

A book was placed in front of him. Ranboo picked it up and opened it. It simply read: It's ok, I understand. 

Ranboo handed the book back to Dream. "No. No it's not actually, I was rude there's - I'm sorry."

Ranboo bit into Niki’s bread, it was amazing, definitely better than raw potatoes. Ranboo made another mental note (he'd have to write these mental notes down soon or he'd forget) to ask Niki to make sure Dream didn't have to eat more potatoes. 

A few days after that, Ranboo had to trade with Techno's villagers for a couple of things. He liked the new design of the house, the way Techno's and Phil's houses were connected but still distinct, friendship houses. Phil was a good builder even if he didn't show it that much on the server. Inside the house was Steve, as per usual. But what was unusual was the man who was curled up by Steve's side, sleeping peacefully. A man in a green hoodie, Dream. Patches was also there, stretched out in a position only a cat would find comfortable and squished between Dream and Steve. 

Ranboo quietly made his way down the ladder, trying not to disturb what seemed like the only peaceful sleep Dream had gotten in a long time. 

Techno was downstairs with the villagers, trading for some more golden carrots. 

"Uh Dream's sleeping with Steve" Ranboo informed him. 

"oh yeah, I was, I was thinking of, you know, lending him Baba so he could sleep easier when he wakes up," Techno replied, "you know, so I don't have to hear him wake up every night, not because I care or anything."

"no no, of course not. Yeah if Steve is helping him sleep I think lending him Baba might help as well."

"Yeah if anything I'm just doing us a favour, right?" 

Ranboo suppressed a laugh as he finished trading and left, making sure to be quiet on his way out. 

Ranboo was a rich guy, so it didn't take him long to max out a new netherite pickaxe. When Tubbo had asked why, he said that it was a gift for Phil, that he had accidentally broken it while mining out the new training area. He had lied to his husband. Ranboo was getting used to lying and withholding information, and he wasn't sure what to make of that. A few lies here and there to stop the nuclear war was almost definitely a net positive but it didn't stop him from feeling guilty about it. Served him right for being close to multiple people who loved to blow things up but weren't on the same side of history. If only people stopped choosing sides and stopped trying to hurt others then he wouldn't be in this situation, but alas, here he was making a maxed out netherite pickaxe for Dream behind Tubbo's back. 

He was going to sit down and have a proper conversation with Dream, if it went badly then the pickaxe would go to Phil instead, or Niki for her underground city, but for some reason Ranboo had the feeling that it wouldn't. When he walked past the underground room they had dug for Dream (on his way to trade with Techno's villagers again), Baba had been moved in there. Dream was out, probably at Niki’s underground city or exploring the wilderness (ish, he still stayed close enough for them to come help him if necessary, he still wasn't fully healed yet). Ranboo would have to find him another time. He gave Patches a quick scratch before leaving. 

"Uh hey" he had found Dream in the lower room of Techno's house, sitting by the chests, throwing something (Ranboo couldn't see what) to the foxes. 

Dream looked up at him and gave a small wave. He was clearly getting stronger, he no longer looked like a walking corpse and actually had some meat on his bones. Phil had given him the all clear to start training again, to build up more muscle again after losing so much to inactivity in the prison. He'd have to start slow, given how tired he got so quickly, but Ranboo doubted it would take long before he was a threat again. And, Ranboo thought, if he could get close to Dream, he may be able to stop him from hurting Tubbo again. 

He slowly made his way over to the foxes, trying not to scare them, and sat down on the floor. One of them had a sword in its mouth, probably Techno's fault. 

"Sorry I've been uh," Prime, finding words was hard, "avoiding you."

Dream's fingertips glowed white as he searched his inventory for something, "oh, would- do you want a book to write in?" Ranboo asked. 

Dream nodded and Ranboo searched through his inventory. He had a spare he quickly checked, empty, perfect. He handed it over to Dream, who started writing. 

When he handed it back, the book simply said: I didn't expect you to be friendly. 

"oh, hm, right yeah that makes sense. You're… you're not as bad as I expected you to be though."

The book was once again passed back and forth, this time it said: Techno would take my last life if I hurt you

"Is that the reason you haven't then?" 

No that's not the only reason. You're close to Tommy, right? 

"I mean I guess I am? The more I think about it the less…. I don't know. I just… I think he needs help, therapy, but we all know he'd just walk away." Tommy was a difficult subject. Ranboo liked the guy, he genuinely did, but he was annoying at times, not to mention overbearing. He could also be toxic at times, but then Ranboo was talking to Dream at that very moment, however toxic Tommy's relationship was with Ranboo and Tubbo, it was nowhere near as toxic as it was with Dream. But then Dream was the cause of that, not Tommy. 

Dream took off his mask, putting it on the floor. His face was still too pale, but freckles had started to appear again. Ranboo often found Dream just sitting outside on the steps of Techno and Phil's house, taking in the sunlight that had been denied to him for so long. 

The book got handed back. 

I think we all need therapy

"yeah, yeah you're probably right. Puffy's gonna get a lot of work when people realise."

Dream frowned at the mention of Puffy's name, before writing again

She refused to help with mine 

"Oh uh… that's… hm. That's not good. You've been talking to Niki a lot more though, right? She's not a therapist but she is a positive influence on pretty much everyone."

Dream nodded, and this time the book read:

Been helping out at her bakery, kneading dough is apparently a good way to take out anger, I don’t know if it's that effective though 

Ranboo chuckled, he doubted much could help control all of Dream's anger, but if he was doing something about it, it may help a little. Ranboo realised that Dream was trying, and he didn't know why that surprised him. Ever since he had come to the syndicate, he had been trying to get better. 

Dream's fingers glowed white as he searched through his inventory for something, eventually bringing out a loaf of bread. He broke some off and handed it to Ranboo. He quickly wrote in the book and showed it to Ranboo, it simply said one thing: I made this.

Ranboo tried the bread, it'd be rude not to after all, and it was good. Possibly not as good as Niki's, but then Niki had been baking longer than Dream. 

"It's good!"

And Dream smiled, genuinely smiled. For the first time in so long he smiled. How long had it been since he created instead of destroyed? How long had it been since he had put genuine effort into creating something good? 

He went to go pick up his mask, only to find Blitz was holding it.

"Fuck," the first word he had said all day. Ranboo started laughing, and after a few seconds of trying (and failing) to pry open a fox's mouth, Dream joined him. 

It felt good to laugh, for both of them. Ranboo had spent too long lying to people and trying to keep secrets from everyone to let his guard down lately. And Dream, well Dream hadn't laughed properly since he had killed Tommy, but even then that was mostly because of the relief he had felt. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so happy, or free. 

"Wait wait hang on," Ranboo said as he gave Blitz a golden apple. Blitz in turn dropped the mask for the apple, and Ranboo handed the mask back to Dream. 

That night Ranboo left a chest outside Dream's room. It contained two things, the pickaxe and a note. 

They made it back to the Arctic commune, back home. Or at least it was home for Techno, Dream didn't have one left. He stayed with them, without them telling Ranboo, until he could get back his strength. But that Techno wasn’t worried about Ranboo as much as he was about Dream’s anger, however justified it was. Anger burned, no person could survive a fire. He recognised that anger, recognised it from who he used to be. L'Manhole was a product of that anger, and while in the long run it had been a good thing, it could have so easily been bad, everyone’s life had changed after doomsday, not everyone’s for the better. Niki trying to kill Tommy was a product of that anger, trying to get Tubbo to accidentally blow up his own friend, his oldest friend. 

It was an anger that would only hurt people, that came from being hurt himself, and would only make people want to hurt him back. 

For a while he had been too weak to do anything about it, they had tried helping him take it out in healthy ways, so he wouldn't drown himself in it, like he had for the last few months in prison. Training was one those ways, it helped him both gain his strength and confidence back, as well as a sense of safety (Sam would have a harder time taking him back if Dream could fight back, especially now that he had friends), but most importantly it tired him out and helped take out some of that anger. 

Techno would often find Dream in Phil's training dungeon training with armour stands, could feel the anger radiating off the man, anger at Quackity and Sam yes, but also anger at himself whenever he missed a crit or didn't dodge correctly. He wasn’t the man he used to be, could never be the man he used to be. He may eventually get back to the same level of fitness, of control, of skill, but he would forever be changed by the prison.  

"Don't let your anger show," Phil would always say, "you're scarier that way."

It was bad advice, Dream should be letting out his emotions, although keeping control of a situation was important too. 

"Don't let it show in fights," Techno corrected, "you need to let it out somehow though or it'll kill you."

Dream ignored both of them. 

It did quieten, eventually. It never went away. Dream was stronger now, but the server knew he was out. Sam has been searching all over, so had everyone else, including some of Dream's former friends who had sworn to kill him. Dream was safer in the Arctic, where Techno posed a serious enough threat to scare anyone off, he didn't want to stay though. No, he had other ideas, a plan to stop the all consuming anger he felt. 

Techno found him walking out, because of course he did. 

"Ah, where are you going?" He asked, and Dream could tell that Techno was deliberately trying to sound non threatening. 

"I'm just… going to tie up some loose ends."

"You're going to kill Quackity aren't you?" 

Well yes, but Techno would stop him so he couldn't say that. Why should Techno stop him? When has Techno stopped at revenge before? He was perfectly happy to help with L'manburg, why would he stop at killing Quackity? Quackity had tried to kill Techno! He had trapped him in Pandora's as well! He had done so much harm, caused so much division, stopped too many plans. 

"So what if I am? So what if I fucking am? He fucking tortured me Techno!" his voice raised as he spoke, "I want him dead! I WANT TO TAKE HIS OTHER EYE! I WANT TO CUT HIS FUCKING HEAD CLEAN OFF AND PUT IT ON A SPIKE AND WATCH AS THE CROWS FEAST!" 

Techno just nodded, "I mean, I'd be a hypocrite to tell you not to seek revenge. Do what you have to do, but Dream, it isn't going to help."

"He'll be gone, it's good enough."

Las Nevadas was cold. That was the thing about the place, it was built on lies, a supposed desert in a snow biome, supposed love for people Quackity was just using. The entire place was a lie. Maybe one day Dream would give it the L'manburg treatment, it certainly deserved it, it would certainly give it more energy, more character. Maybe one day the empty buildings void of life would be reduced to rubble. But Dream wasn't here for the place itself, as horrible as it was, he was here for the man who built it. He was here for Quackity. 

Dream found him in the burger joint, restocking the place. It looked like the burger war was going in Quackity's favour, at least until Wilbur started the next innovation. He wouldn't have to think of anything when Quackity died, though. Dream supposed he should probably take care of the Wilburger van next. Nothing good came from Wilbur and food vans. 

"Welcome! I'm sorry but we're closed at the-'' Quackity finally looked at who came in. The last time he had seen Dream, he had been bleeding, slumped on the floor, unable to escape, pleading with Quackity, almost crying (he had never let himself cry, he had come close but he had never let himself cry). Now here he was, in full netherite armour, ready for revenge. 

Quackity backed up into a corner, a bad move, he should have gone for the back exit. Dream could see the fear in his eyes, he was finally facing him when he was actually able to fight back. Quackity had gotten too used to hurting people when they couldn't run away, when they had nothing to fight back with. He had never been a good fighter and with feeling so powerful from hurting Dream he had gotten complacent. 

"Dre-" Dream covered Quackity's mouth, silencing him. He was shaking, how amusing. 

"Now now Quackity, be quiet. I'm trying to decide, you see. Should I just kill you now, or… should I recreate one of our fun little prison sessions first?" 

Dream's fingers glowed white as he looked in his inventory, eventually pulling out a zip tie and tying Quackity's hands behind his back. 

"Now Quackity," he said, with his hand still over Quackity's mouth, "I'd gag you too, make you shut up for once, but I want to hear you scream."

There was fear in Quackity's eyes, the fear of a man who couldn't run away, a fear Dream knew all too well. He hated that it unsettled him. 

Dream removed his hand from Quackity's mouth. 

"Please," Quackity pleaded, so quiet it was almost a whisper. 

Dream switched to the netherite axe again as Quackity tried to back up further against the wall. 

"Dream it doesn't help," that might be true, but, well... it didn't matter now anyways. 

Dream brought the axe down and rejoiced as Quackity screamed. 

It wasn't enough, Quackity's pleads and cries and screams weren't enough, so he continued. 

All those months the same had been done to him, was this how Quackity felt? Unsatisfied? As much as Dream was enjoying this, and he was, there was something missing. 

Dream had put a bed down, made Quackity reset his spawn. It had been white when they started, it was now stained red. Dream was going to burn it anyway, if anything it just helped soak up some of the blood that would otherwise be pooling on the floor. 

It felt good to be powerful again though, months wasting away meant nothing now as his torturer was on his knees begging him to stop, to rethink, to let him go. He wouldn't tell anyone, he promised as Dream hit him yet again

"Of course you won't Quackity, you'll be dead." 

“Let’s play a game, Quackity, one you made me play before! It was so fun wasn’t it?” Dream had remembered something Quackity had made him do all those months ago in the prison. He put his axe in his off hand and took shears out. 

“Which one do you want?” He asked, putting on his nicest voice, his talking to a friendly cat or a hurt child voice. 

Quackity’s eyes narrowed, he knew the game, had made Dream do the same thing, he knew what he had to do. The thing is, Quackity was prideful, not as much as Dream, but certainly enough that he didn’t want to beg. 

“Shears,” he said quickly. Personally Dream would have gone with the axe, it did more damage and so took a shorter amount of time, also the cuts were cleaner. But Dream had been on the receiving end of both many  times, he knew which would be more painful, knew exactly just how horrible either of the options could be. Quackity was new to this. He had also answered in the wrong way. 

Dream smiled, “ask nicely now,” he said in that same sweet voice. 

“The shears. Please.” His voice was tired, pained, but that wasn’t going to get Dream to stop forcing it, it had never stopped Quackity after all.

“Oh come on, we both know you can do better than that.”He took a step closer, hitting the air next to Quackity.

“Please can I have the shears, please.” 

“I will be forced to use something much worse if you don’t do this properly, Quackity, we both know this!” A hole in the ground, water bucket at the ready, cloth in hand. Another trick he had picked up from Quackity, but at least Quackity would have the benefit of Dream not using sewage water. 

“Please Sir, please use the shears sir, please! I’d love the shears to be used.” 

“Good boy,” Dream said, bringing out the shears again, before getting to work. Getting Quackity to beg, getting the man he had begged to to beg him to hurt him, it did feel good. Felt amazing, he finally had that back, his power over the man, he hadn’t ended with him being below Quackity. Yet there was something, something there that was still empty. He could get addicted to the sound of Quackity begging yet it would never satisfy whatever was wrong. As he sheared away Quackity’s skin, he was glad for the mask, had pulled it down to make sure Quackity couldn’t see his face. He had a good poker face but  he couldn’t be bothered to keep it up at that moment, instead focusing on giving as much pain to Quackity as possible.

There was something wrong, something missing, and Dream was afraid that he wouldn’t find it. 

Quackity eventually passed out from the pain. Dream just stood there, looking at the man passed out in a pool of his own blood. The axe landed in his skull with an audible crack. 

Quackity was slain by Dream using Nightmare

Quackity respawned, and his old body disintegrated. Dream swung the axe again, another audible crack. This time his body didn’t disappear, his final life left the body behind. 

Quackity was slain by Dream using Nightmare

Dream looked down at it, he felt empty. He swung his axe again, beheading the body. He took off Quackity’s infamous beanie before holding the head up by his hair, sightless eyes stared back at him. He was finally gone. 

Dream placed the head at the top of the fountain in the middle of Las Nevadas. Red blood flowed into the water, getting more and more diluted as the water cycled, the fountain reused it’s water, the blood would be there until someone cleaned it up. Almost orange now, a dark orange-red like the sky of a sunset, setting down on Quackity’s last day. On top of it all, the crown of Las Nevadas, the man who started it all, eyes unseeing and vacant, mouth unmoving, not breathing, not talking, telling no more lies. It started to snow in the desert, it started to snow in the snow biome. It would snow at Dream’s home too, and would still be snowing when he got back, back to the warmth of a place that didn’t pretend to be something it wasn’t. Small cottages designed for warmth and comfort, they had a homely feel to them. Did he see it as his home? He had no other place to go, had destroyed all those bridges long ago in a quest that had gone too far. He sat on the floor, next to Steve, staring into the fire, eyes almost as unseeing as Quackity’s. He didn’t feel a thing. Empty. 

Technoblade silently came up behind him, and lay his cloak over Dream’s shoulders. Dream looked up at him, mask still on. Techno looked blurry, he wasn’t crying though, he couldn’t be crying. Maybe he was crying.

He threw the shears into the fire. He was finally home.

It was a soft touch, softer than he had had in a long time. It wasn’t much, but Techno wasn’t exactly known for knowing how to show his emotions well. A cloak around his shoulders, the soft fur touching his neck, was more kindness than had been offered to him in over half a year. He wouldn’t let it show just how much it meant, wouldn’t show weakness. Half a year of nothing and even the tiniest of things could mean everything, or maybe they had before. It was always the small things people did that meant things, George waking up earlier than usual to hang out, Sapnap knowing when to stop bickering, it was the little things he remembered.

Attachments were a weakness, and he’d been taught just what happened to the things he cared about. Used against him or killed outright, nothing good happened to his pets, friends, loved ones. In some ways he was happy Sapnap and George hated him now, they won't get hurt for him now. However, there was a selfish part of him that wished his best friends still loved him.

A selfish part of him that wished for that playful bickering, for complaining at George when he overslept, for Punz to be at his side again. He should have payed him more. But, if he was willing to betray Dream for money had he ever really been on his side? Had they ever been close to begin with? He couldn't tell if it was better if Punz had never been his friend or if he had grown to hate him along with Sapnap. Was it selfish? Quackity would tell him that he was selfish for dragging his friends through the horror of being associated with him, but when had Quackity ever told the truth?

It was a soft touch, softer than netherite axes or shears. Softer than Quackity’s words, threats of further violence and hatred, assurance that the world would thank Quackity for this, knowledge of just how much everyone hated him. Softer than fists cracking Tommy’s skull, than starvation, than him coming back with Ghostbur in tow ready to end his life. Softer than the corpse of a dead cat, and the horror of losing her. The fear for his life as Tommy doubted the only knowledge that kept him alive. He had to stay alive. However harsh the world was, he had to stay alive. Pain was better than death, every blow from Quackity's axe was better than what lay after his third life, every nail and tooth gone, every drop of blood and tear in skin was worth staying alive.

The cloak made the already unbearably hot room somehow worse, yet he kept it on. He could remember feeling cold, couldn't remember how it felt to feel cold. Lava encasing the vault made sure no heat escaped, no cold was allowed in, nothing from beyond the lava. Nothing except netherite axes and armour.

The colour matched his bloodstained clothes. He hadn’t bothered to wash the blood out of his hair, it occasionally came off in flecks, but his hair had been too tangled and messy before Quackity had started coming that adding blood to the mix didn’t worsen his appearance too much. One day maybe, if he ever got out of this hellhole, he would cut his hair again, cut the matted mess right off and have shorter hair. He hadn't cared much about his appearance before and cared even less now, but short hair would be nice to have again. Short hair meant he had the ability to have it cut, it meant he had access to blades and the freedom to use them how he wished.

It was soft, and as he snuggled into the cloak, despite the overwhelming heat, he looked over at Techno. He didn't quite say thank you, not yet anyway, save that kind of thing for if - no, when they got out, but he could tell Techno knew he appreciated the gesture.

Niki had noticed that Dream spent a lot of his time training, like a lot of time. She had originally thought that he was trying to regain his strength and was retraining his instincts, and maybe at first it was, but as time went on and Dream was still training despite clearly being physically healthy again, the syndicate knew something was up.

Techno had decided to investigate, though Niki thought she already knew the reason. And after Techno came back, her suspensions were confirmed: anger. He was so angry at the world but trying not to take it out on others, trying not to hurt anyone again. Niki knew that feeling, had gone through it herself, and had luckily come out on the other side.

Did she consider him a friend? Maybe, definitely not when he first arrived broken and desperate for a home after the prison, but now maybe. They hadn't talked much, but when they had he had always tried to make her laugh. She appreciated that, even if his jokes were terrible. He had brought Wilbur back, but knowing the conditions of the prison, what had been done to him, she wasn't sure if she could hold that grudge, she probably would have done anything to get out. A possible friend, an almost friend, a "I wouldn't die for you but I would help you out in a pinch" friend.

Well that answered it, someone who she would help out if he needed help, and he did.

"Dream, can you help me out at my bakery?"

He looked up from his book, when he wasn't training he was writing.

"Uh sure, I don't know how much use I'd be," he sounded unsure of himself, which was fair considering she didn't think he had ever baked before. Well, maybe he had but for himself to stay alive when the server first started more than baking for fun or to make something that tasted good.

"That's fine, I'll teach you!" just like he had taught her. He had helped her learn how to fight better, and had been a good teacher at that. She was still no Technoblade but she could certainly handle herself much better now. Dream had a certain knack for making her feel more comfortable in her abilities.

When they reached her bakery in the underground city (a little too close to Kinoko Kingdom for Dream's comfort but she had barred Sapnap from the place since she found out about his promise), they started on the bread.

She talked him through all the steps, and showed him how to knead the dough. While she talked him through the steps, he did most of the work. And while it was proofing and baking, they sat and talked. They talked about their pasts, and how they got over them, Niki said how she took out her anger by kneading dough and how the fact that it made something good at the end helped.

Sapnap had a knife to Dream's throat. There was something in his eyes, something beyond the hurt, was it hope? fear? both? Sapnap couldn't tell. He was struggling to stand, leaning against a tree with wounds still bleeding. But it wasn't just new blood, old blood stained his clothes, brown with age. How had he been hurt in a cell with no sharp objects? Sapnap pushed the thought out of his mind. It was good, payment for everything Dream had done, might have taught him a lesson even, helped reform him. 

"Sapnap?"

His voice sounded hoarse, as if he had just been yelling, or screaming. His voice sounded hopeful, as if Sapnap wasn't there to kill him. 

"I asked, I asked to see you," he was speaking quickly now, like he did when he was afraid. Just like how he had the first time he had gotten into a fight with George, he had come to Sapnap scared he had damaged something he couldn't repair, or when he got bad grades or skipped school and almost got caught. Like he had when they were kids, brothers, inseparable. 

"I wanted to see you again. Quackity wouldn't let me-" 

"Quackity? What has he got to do with anything? Dream! Stop pushing the blame onto other people, you did this to yourself!" He was yelling now, he needed Dream to know. It had all been his fault, so much pain had been Dream's fault.

"My fault?" he sounded weak, "you think this is my fault? You think I did this-" he pulled up his sleeve, soaked with blood, to reveal countless scars down his arm, far more than Sapnap remembered, "to myself? You think that I would do this?" he was getting louder now, almost yelling. Sapnap took a better look at Dream’s face. It was filled with scars, you could barely see his freckles anymore, or maybe that was due to several months without sun. His hair was longer, and matted. It was darker too, whether from lack of hygiene or sunlight Sapnap couldn't tell, it was probably both. He looked tired, almost broken, like he was only holding on by a thread. A thread Sapnap was going to break. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he really was yelling now, and part of Sapnap couldn't blame him. He was speechless, he couldn't defend himself even if he tried. Dream put a hand on his, over the knife, and tried to push it away from him. He was so weak, it was comical. This was the man Sapnap would have feared if he wasn't always on his side, who had helped train Sapnap, who was second only to Technoblade in combat, and he was weak. His hands were probably the only place that had the same amount of scars as before. They would have looked untouched, except for the fact that he had no fingernails left. 

"You're going to let me go, and you're going to get the fuck out of my life," Dream's voice was laced with venom, anger, hatred. His brother hated him, and Sapnap couldn't blame him. 

"Go where?" He yelled back, finally able to break his silence, "you have nowhere Dream, you have no one, you don't care about anyone, remember?" because Dream had said that, Dream had said he didn't care, said that Sapnap meant nothing to him, that those years spent together meant nothing, he didn't care. 

Dream looked confused for a second, before putting the pieces together. 

"You… You believed that? You weren't even there! Who told you?" He sounded confused. 

"Tommy, Tommy told me everything," Sapnap answered. 

"You believed Tommy over me? You believed something I said to avoid Spirit being used against me as proof I don't care? You believed Tommy's words about my own fucking feelings over my own? You didn't think to ask me, you just took him at his word! Did our friendship mean nothing to you?"

They had been best friends, brothers, inseparable. They had always had each other's backs. And now they were here, Sapnap had a knife to Dream's throat, stopping him from escaping something terrible. How had it come to this?

Sapnap lowered the knife from Dream's throat. Dream stepped away, bumping into a tree briefly, before beginning to run off. He turned around, and Sapnap could almost see tears in his eyes, before he ran back and hugged Sapnap, burying his head on Sapnap's shoulder. And Dream was crying now, and maybe Sapnap was as well (he would refuse to admit either way), as Sapnap hugged him back. 

"I'm sorry," it didn't matter who said it, it meant a lot from either of them. 

Between his latest disappearance and whatever the hell this was, Quackity had a lot of questions to answer. 

Dream was finally free, he was able to see sunshine, touch grass, feel the wind, eat literally anything that wasn't uncooked potatoes. He was free, yet he was still trapped in the aftermath of everything. Armour was too heavy, he struggled to eat when he should, body littered with scars, weak yet again. Staying with Techno and Phil, however, meant he could train. He took it slow, only partly because Phil forced him to, partly to give himself enough time to plan. 

Several months passed, and the smp knew he had escaped. And while he was closer to what he wanted, he wasn't there yet. Iron armour was a step up from leather, but it wasn't netherite. Still prot 4 iron protected him from most of what he saw. While he was weak he was still trapped, trapped in the arctic unable to go out in case he was hunted down, in case someone like Quackity or Sam or Sapnap found him. He didn't want to die. That's why he had endured all he had, the torture, the prison, even killing Tommy - proving to him that he did have the power of resurrection - all in an attempt to avoid death. He was going to stay alive, no matter what it cost him. Freedom would be nice though, and so he trained. 

The Arctic base had changed significantly since he had last been there. Ranboo lived with them as well now, and had to be sworn to silence. He could tell the half-enderman didn't like it, didn't like him, but there was something at least that kept the kid from telling the server. Enderboo enjoyed his presence at least, popping in from time to time to chat. Dream found out that it was Sam that had stopped Ranboo from visiting him in the prison, Sam who had taken one of his last friends away. At least he was here now. 

When he was still in the prison, they had fed him health pots after every time Quackity had visited. They had kept him alive for the next day, again filled with netherite axes, pain and that same question again and again. If answered it would keep the pain away, he would stop being cut up and burnt every day. But the price of going pain free was death, and he couldn't die. Not yet. The health pots were a quick way to keep him alive, until he gave up the book. So they didn't have to feed him correctly, so they didn't have to take care. Do as much damage until he almost died, give him a health pot and go again. Almost all of his smaller scars had healed with the pots, only tyre big ones remained. And old scars too, reminding him of a life when he could actually fight back. It felt good to have a sword in his hand again. 

He never used health pots again, regen maybe if it was too bad but otherwise he used gapples, Techno and Phil had enough to share. Plus, chopping down oak for apples was relaxing, a good way to use up energy. He didn't need to, Techno's villagers gave them apples, but he needed a way to use up any built up energy he had when the others weren't around to help train. 

He built a house, underground and hidden, but his. It had multiple exits, only some known by the people he lived with, multiple ways out. No way of getting trapped again. It had wooden walls, from all the trees he had to chop, and chests. He could have things again, need a place for storage. Blocks and bits and stuff were kept in his chests, more organised than expected. Everything had its place, so he knew where to grab it in an emergency. There was an enderchest by every exit, a way to grab resupplies in case of emergency. That emergency never came. 

He got a clock, and then hid it. He didn't know how to feel about it, it reminded him of the prison, the torture box, hell on earth, but it had been his only comfort. Of course now he had more things to do than spin a clock, when he got bored he had more than a clock to escape his thoughts, but he still kept it. On bad days he'd burn it again. He did have better ways to take out his anger now though, he had training, and planning. His anger sometimes consumed him, frustrations building up until he was full. Every little thing pissing him off in some way, until he had to take it out on someone in Phil's training grounds. Slashing and punching and blocking attacks until it was all out of his system, or until the other person hit tired and he had to work on dummies, or go hunting for animals and mobs. 

Other days he was numb, feeling nothing all day and unable to do anything with any emotion at all. At least with the angry days he was doing something, feeling something. Numb days were worse. 

Wilbur Soot lived in Phil's attic he learned one day. He didn't stay around the Arctic often, more interested in causing trouble for Quackity, but he did see him sometimes. He asked what the afterlife was like, learnt competitive solitaire (which he later taught to Enderboo) and talked. 

"An entire prison just for you, how highly they must have thought of you," Wilbur had once said. Dream doubted they thought of him highly, they had just feared him. To Wilbur that sounded like the same thing. 

On numb days Wilbur sometimes visited. He talked to Dream about what Quackity was doing, how he was faring. Dream learned of Las Nevadas, how he had been engaged to Sapnap and Karl, even how Tommy had dealt with the conflict between Snowchester and Las Nevadas. Wilbur often turned numb days into angry days. 

"All that anger you have, Dream, you should put it into something, do something useful with it!" Wilbur said once as Dream was hacking away at a training dummy. He had partial netherite on, he couldn't handle full netherite yet. His technique was sloppy but effective, as long as the victim couldn't fight back. He would have to reteach himself good technique, how to dodge and block and get to others that could, if he would stand a chance against the rest of the server. Sapnap's promise, his best friend's promise to kill him remained. Had he really been Dream's friend if he had turned on him so quickly? 

"Like what?" He asked. 

"Revenge. I think Quackity has had it too good for too long," Wilbur replied easily. 

"Getting me to do your dirty work huh?" 

Wilbur smiled, there was something unsettling in his eyes, "don't act like you don't want it."

Half a year after his escape, the same amount of time he had been in the prison in the first place, he was finally ready. The server thought he had run, they thought that he had gone away for good, that he had been dealt with. They were wrong. He just needed to take Quackity away from Las Nevadas for long enough. Dream stocker up on health pots before the trip. 

It was a flash of green in Quackity's vision, something - someone - leaving Las Nevadas, headed away. Quackity had a sinking feeling he knew who it was. It was the wrong shade of green to be slime, plus it had moved too fast. Dream was back at last. 

Quackity knew he had to deal with this, if he was lucky Dream would still be afraid of him, even if he would try to hide it. He brought out Warden's Will, the axe that he had always started with when visiting Dream, and the best armour he had. Business at Las Nevadas hadn't been as good as he was hoping, he was always looking over his shoulder, too cautious of the wrong things, looking out for the infamous green clad man to appear and ruin everything yet again. That time had come, but Quackity wasn't going to let him ruin anything this time. 

He followed the green man. 

At the very edge of the desert was where he caught up with Dream. He had his mask pushed back to one side, exposing his scarred face, looking healthier than when he last saw the man. He had clearly been getting healthier in the time he took away from terrorising the server. Quackity didn't know why he had thought Dream wouldn't do that, when healthy Dream had a clear advantage over the majority of the server, it only made sense to bide his time, waiting for his body to heal before striking. 

"Hello again Quackity, long time no see."

Health potions were the only thing keeping Quackity alive, and he didn't know if he should be grateful for it. There was a glint in Dream's eye every time he brought the axe down, every time he cut into Quackity's skin, every time he broke a bone. Maybe he deserved this. If Dream deserved what he had done to him, then Quackity thought he might deserve this. He thought he had broken the ex-prisoner, or almost broken him. He had called him sir, had almost stopped fighting back even. Almost. 

Another blow. Another scream. The green  man laughed at his pain. 

Dream had cut off his finger. He had already lost his fingernails, so this was the obvious next choice. The reason Quackity had never taken a finger was because he needed Dream to be able to write. Dream needed no such thing, all he needed was revenge. 

Dream had so easily disarmed him, had so easily taken the axe from him. The axe was now in Dream's hands, not Quackity or Sam's, and his grin said he wasn't going to stop. Dream was enjoying this. Hurting him. His technique was sloppy, fueled by rage and hurt rather than thought. Quackity realised he was crying, tears of pain ran down his cheeks. He remembered loving the look of them on Dream, the way he screamed and cried and tried to run. Was Dream feeling the same way?

"Oh come on now Quackity, you're stronger than this, right? It took me weeks to start crying! You're not that weak!" 

It was true, and Quackity had to finally admit that he was weaker than Dream. 

Another cut, another scream, more laughter. 

He wouldn't break, he was just as strong as Dream had been, he wasn't going to die yet. He had Las Nevadas, he had the others to lead, to carry him to profit, to power, to never be forgotten. No, he wouldn't die yet, he would escape. Quackity would escape. 

Sam found him in the blood soaked sand. Quackity, his body torn up, broken, dead. He hadn't been tortured where his body lay, no Dream was too smart for that. In the open where everyone could see, where running would be all too easy. He had been taken here to die. Or maybe he had run, tried to escape, to get back home, only to be killed in the sand. He wondered if Dream had meant to continue, he wondered if Dream thought he had died too quickly. There was a trail of blood in the sand, leading further away from Las Nevadas. Quackity had tried to run. Sam thought himself lucky he hadn't seen Dream yet, that Dream had thought to exact his revenge on Quackity first. Something told him he'd see the prisoner- ex-prisoner- again sometime soon, and when that day came he would haul him back to pandora's vault, back to where he belonged. The equivalent of death, except Sam had the unfortunate pleasure of having to deal with him, to keep him there in a place between life and death, until he gave up the secrets of the revive book. 

It was snow, not sand, the next time Sam caught wind of Dream's presence. The freezing cold so far removed from the heat of the desert in which he had last seen Dream's effects on the world. A far call from the humid oppressing heat of the cell the man had been confined to for half a year. The snow outside Technoblade's house was still it's natural white, it hadn't been stained with the blood of a torturer yet, it may be stained when he was done. He was just standing there, talking to Phil and Techno, the people who broke him out. They had saved Dream, they had doomed the rest of them. He was just standing there, in full netherite yet again, with an axe that looked too familiar for comfort. When Dream spotted Sam, he took a step back. Was that fear? Good. Dream should fear the law. Techno and Phil positioned themselves in front of him, protective. They were protecting the wrong thing, couldn't they tell? Dream wasn't someone who should be protected from Sam, he should be given over freely. Had Techno not seen his evil when he stayed in the prison?