You’d think a desert is hot but at night it gets really fucking cold. Sapnap is sweating and panting but his fingertips and ears are burning so cold are they. He’s running around in circles to the music blaring from the speakers. The stark floodlights make four shadows dance around him while his opponents are only silhouettes. Only nine people left, surely this round has to be a quick one. “The middle is probably the best”, he mutters while he never stops moving, willing the music to stop and one of the lights in the ground to light up near him. Staying away from other players has to be his best bet. He prays that George will be alright too. But he can’t think about that now. Or all the people they’ve lost. He has to concentrate.

He can not think about the sudden dread when Tina got her tail stolen at the very last second. Running towards her, standing around her with Hannah, George and Dream. “I can’t watch it, I can’t watch it.” Sapnap has always been a competitive person. Never did he have to watch one of his opponents die before. It’s shaking hands and ‘congratulations’ and the motivation of ‘maybe next time’ not the bang of a gun and blood on his jumpsuit. He never screamed somebody’s name that loud while more shots rang out around them, killing other people’s friends too.

The music stops and a square only a few feet away from him lights up. He sprints towards it, throws himself at it, hitting the ground hard only seconds before another player does, all the air leaving his lungs but being safe, safe for another round. “Yes! Yes! Holy shit.” One moment of celebration before he looks up scanning the darkness for George, checking if he’s one bodies still wandering around panicking. Did George make it? Please be good. Sapnap had to come to turn with the idea of losing his friend, but he wants to know, needs to know, if he gets to celebrate with him or hold his hand waiting for the fatal shot. Because he will, he will do both. They will do this together and if they can’t, he will not let him die alone. Not like he did with Karl. He still feels bad about that. He only got to hear the canons for Sylveey, Tubbo, Speedfue, Foolish and Quackity too but they were trapped in a different part of the facility. With Karl he just didn’t know. He didn’t know. He remembers desperately searching for his body afterwards following Dream around the arena. Them stumbling over multiple people, Dream having to ask “Is this him?” because his body looked so unrecognizable in death, only a mess of limbs and blood.

He waits while the shots ring through the night impossible loud. Watches as another friend explodes into bits. Forces himself to take a calming breath. “Oh my god”. Nothing he can do, nothing he can do. Is this the finale? Please let this be the end. When he gets up, he runs towards George and Shadoune. “Hola amigos!” A delight laugh leaving his lips. “Hey guys! What’s up Shadoune?”, George asks as they jump around each other in celebration. “How are you feeling?”, George asks. “I’m scared”, Sapnap admits. He hasn’t allowed himself to hope. Hope can destroy you because it takes you out of the moment. You have to belief, but you cannot daydream. You have to stay focused, in the moment, fighting. But now that there are only three people left, he can’t help but start hoping. Hoping he gets out of here. Hoping that Dream didn’t die in vain. Didn’t safe him for nothing.

He remembers that night, huddling in a dark corner, pressed up against George and Tubbo. Not agreeing with Dream’s tactic but trusting him. Being nervous and tense until everyone burst apart and he sprinted behind the beds. Seeing Dream fight somebody, encouraging him “Yes Dream!” before the cold voice announced his death. Getting hit himself, getting chased, I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead, climbing up the beds and getting taken in by Sylveey’s group. Grabbing George’s hand in the dark and feeling his heart raise while people whispered around him in a language he couldn’t understand. “You wanna get revenge?” “I can’t, they got me good.” Holding his throbbing side. “We just have to hide”. Remembers the No-s that traverse every language as the voice announced more eliminations and the shouts of joy as the light finally turned back on again. Looking for Dream’s body and finding him tangled up with one their opponents and surrounded by a crowd of people calling him sueño. His name is Dream. Was Dream. And he died saving him. He didn’t want Dream to die for him. That wasn’t the deal they had made. He remembers just screaming at Hannah and Quackity while the voices in his head were screaming for revenge. But revenge was worth nothing if it got him killed too. “We are on our own, George.” “I hope there isn’t another round”, Shadoune says. “I don’t know if there is another round”, George says but his last words get drowned out by the music starting again. “Only two of us can make it, boys, only two of us!”, Sapnap yells before turning around instantly to get some distance between him and the others. He is tired now. They have been running around this god forsaken desert for way too long and his legs are heavy, his mouth is dry, and his eyes are burning. He wants this to be over. But not more than he wants to stay alive. Not only does he have to keep moving he also has to keep thinking. Maybe there is still some strategy left to this. It looks like pure luck now, whoever is closest to the light when they glow up will get there first, but maybe, just maybe. He looks across the field littered by corpses and can see George and Shadoune and their shadows bopping around in the dark. All three of them have claimed an area of the field but if they can steal territory from Shadoune, cut him off … Sapnap can’t risk getting close to George and the music is way too loud to yell something, but he manages to catch George’s gaze and gestures at him quickly. It’s not a lot, just a small wave of his hand, which the guards hopefully don’t catch, but he and George have learned to read each other’s minds these last few days. Remembers “A little but more than a blip-blup, more like a bum-bum.”

The music stops, Sapnap tunnel visions on the lit-up square, he runs, he jumps, he makes it. Frantically he looks up again, catching Shadoune’s eyes, who is still standing, defeat in his eyes.

Sapnap has always been a competitive person. And he always had respect for his opponents. This is on another level though. Fighting for your lives together makes people grow closer to each other. He doesn’t want Shadoune to die. He wants to get up and shakes his hand, saying ‘GG’ and laugh it off. He doesn’t want him to die. He wouldn’t want anybody to die if it wasn’t for his own life on the line. Shadoune kneels down in front of Sapnap, who still paralyzed by the game, and lays the red flower he has been carrying around, down. His hands are shaking. “Good luck. I hope you two make it”, he says before standing up and walking away. Sapnap doesn’t watch. His eyes are focused on the wilted flower in front of his face. It reminds him of Hannah. He didn’t want her to die either even if he said otherwise. Their friendship might have broken apart and he said some bad stuff, but he remembers “It’s just us three” and “Hannah, don’t look back” too. Watching the guard slowly walk towards her made all the animosity drain from his body. Here at the end, it didn’t count that she befriended their enemies, or he called her a coward. “Look at me, look at me, Hannah, look at your friends.” He told her it’s gonna be okay - it wasn’t- but at least he got to say goodbye to her. “We’ll win for you”, he promised her and maybe now they actually can.

“We made it, we fucking made it!”, Sapnap cheers, when the game finally lets them up, and throws himself at George. George hugs him back, panting in his ear, squeezing the air out of his burning lungs. “Yes! We won!” Sapnap whoops until his voice breaks and he coughs, at no point letting go of George’s hand. He remembers Dream’s “So me and George could both live together?” during their first interview and the utter hope in his voice. He remembers “I said we’ll eat the berries and die together” and “You said that?” Sapnap is not letting this man die. Yes, Dream died to safe him, but Sapnap knows his friend: He’ll come back from the dead to kill Sapnap himself if let’s anything happen to George. “What now?”, George asks, “What now? It’s the finale Sapnap, what now?” “We’re gonna take it home. For you, for me. For Dream, for Karl! For everyone. Come on amigo”, he says, putting the red flower in George’s buttonhole.

Two guards approach them and Sapnap grips George’s hand tighter as if he’s afraid they’ll take him away. But the guards only instruct them to follow and push them into the back of a truck. “Sapnap”, George says in the semi-privacy of the car, “What do we do? They’ll want us to, we’ll have to …” “I’m not doing it”, Sapnap says with determination. “You’ll have to! They will, you have to, the rules …” “Will you do it, George? Will you kill me?” “What?! No!” “Are you sure?” “Yes! Dream died for you, I’m not gonna kill you.” “Okay. So I’m not gonna kill you either, what are they gonna do? Kill us both?” “Yes! That’s exactly what they’re gonna do!” “Then we die together.”

Sapnap has always been a competitive person. And one of the characteristics of a good fighter is knowing who the real enemy is. And that’s not George, that’s the guards, their black clothed leader, and this fucking system. He’s not going to play by their rules. They took everything from him. He’d rather give them his life than take George’s. “Do you trust me?”, he asks him while the guards lead them back into the mansion, where they’ve had their fancy dinner at earlier. “What? Yes.” “You sure? The guards sure told us some bullshit about betraying each other during the interviews.” “They were lying. Manipulating us.” “Yes, they were. So it’s set? We’ll just stand there and not do anything? Forever if we have to?” George doesn’t get to answer before the black leader guy starts talking: “Congratulations. It was a great performance of both of you.” Fuck that masked bastard. Sapnap can’t follow a word he’s saying, but he’s pretty sure that a life with excessive amounts of money is a lot more fun than one without. His mind is raising through possibilities of what the last game is going to be, raising through possibilities, scenarios, endings.

And when the leader gives them the chance to say their last words Sapnap doesn’t want to say anything. He’s very aware of the multiple cameras pointed at them, live streaming every breath and every blink to hundreds of thousands of people. He doesn’t resist though when George takes his hand and leans their foreheads together. Their position reminiscent of their now famous hug, Sapnap burying his head in George’s chest, before the milky way game when they thought they had to kill each other for the first time. Remembering “My stomach feels queasy, I don’t know what to do. I wish Dream was here.” Except now here they know for sure what the next, the last game is and Sapnap feels sick again. “George …” “Until the end”, George says and Sapnap nods. Until the end.

POV George

They get dragged into different elevators. George screamed and struggled until they tied up his hands and pointed a gun at his head. Now he’s glaring at the guard opposite him and trying to get his bonds off while the humming of the elevator drowns out his labored breathing. They think they’re so smart. And so mysterious with their stupid masks and cold voices. All guards are meant to look the same but after six days and two interviews George can tell a few of them apart. And this is not the tiny one and also not the one he was hoping for.

When Dream died George was one of the first people to find his body. He hadn’t been able to do anything but stare at first. He hadn’t been able to say his goodbyes – don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry – hadn’t been able to say his name, only his new nickname “Sueño”, hadn’t been able to comfort Tubbo, who just kept saying “Oh fuck”. Hadn’t been able to kill the man, who had taken Dream from him, even though watching him suffocate on the end of a rope had been satisfying.  He hadn’t been able to do a lot of things, but he’ll get Sapnap out of here. He’ll follow Dream until the end.

It’s windy, windy and cold on the playing field of the last game. George doesn’t even want to know how high up they are. High enough for a jump to be lethal, that’s all he needs to know. It’s a flat field, one white circle on either side. Steep drops on all sides and now way up or down. Sapnap is on the other side of the pitch, spitting at guards, while they cut off the ropes around his hands. Sapnap acted like a menace too then? Good. Silence settles around them as the guards vanish one by one back down to the mansion. Nothing but the howling of the wind and the rattling of the camera drones. And then the music sets in and it’s go time.

Sapnap doesn’t move. He just stands there, the rising sun illuminating his silhouette, screaming at the syk: “We’re not going to do it! I can stand here all day! Todo el dia!” He has to get Sapnap out of here. Not only to honor Dream’s last act but because if Sapnap dies, George will never go home, not really. He’ll spend the rest of his life in this arena trying to think his way out. “Sap! El Sapnapo! Remember the cookies they gave us? In the last interview?” He walks up to him. “Yes I do. ‘Not really allowed to do this’ my ass. I don’t believe for a second, they weren’t still manipulation us.” Sapnap grabs his sleeve. “Don’t go running off in a stupid ‘I’ll sacrifices myself for you’ thing alright?” “Do you still have it?”, George asks even though he knows the answer. They’ve been bragging about tasty, tasty cookies since they got them. “Yes”, Sapnap says taking it out of his pocket. “Remember how you told me not to eat it?” “Yeah. But George as if …” “What if you were right and they are setting us up for success?” “No, George, they are manipulating us, you can not belief one word they are saying.” “Trust me”, George whispers. Sapnap holds his gaze for a long moment then lets him go. “On the count of three?” “The count of three”, Sapnap agrees. They stand, their backs pressed together, their empty hands locked tight. “Hold them out. I want everyone to see”, Sapnap says. George spreads out his fingers and his cookie is really more cookie crumbles in the light of the early morning sun. He gives Sapnap’s hand one last squeeze as a signal, as a goodbye, and they begin counting. “One.” Maybe he was wrong. “Two.” Maybe it’s just a normal cookie. “Three!” It’s too late to change his mind. He lifts his hand to his mouth, taking one last look at the world. The cookie has just passed his lips when the trumpets begin to blare. “Stop! Stop!”, the voice yells not so distant and calm anymore.

They push them into tiny, windowless cells, a wall between them, and don’t answer their questions. “Did we win?” No matter how much they both struggle, scream, yell, demand or beg the guards stay silent and leave after locking the doors, only the cameras keeping an eye on them. George tries to stay awake but speculating is pointless and the exhaustion of running around in a desert and then threatening to kill himself on live television catches up to him pretty quickly.

He is only really half asleep on the hard cot when screaming startles him awake. “Go away from me you fucking asshole!” Sapnap. George jumps up and presses himself against the cell’s bars, but he can’t see the other cell. “Fucking guard, leave me alone!” He hears Sapnap punching something and then the guard grunting. “What do you want? Ey?! Just shoot me you motherfucking asshole!” Another hit, another pained groan: “Sapnap, stop.” And George would recognize that voice anywhere. “Sapnap! Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!” “What? Why?!”, Sapnap asks annoyed. “I think, Sapnap, I think that’s Dream.” “What?! Dream is dead!” “I think he isn’t”, George says and Dream simultaneously says: “I’m not.” “What?! How?”, Sapnap asks in disbelief now. “Well turns out a good blow to the head and a bit a bad luck will make it look like you’re dead when you are actually still kinda alive”, Dream says coughing before leaning backwards out of Sapnap’s cell to wave at George. “Hi George.” Cocky bastard. “Hi”, George mouths back at him because his voice has left him. Not so Sapnap: “You! You fucking …!” Another punch. “I fucking hate you! You fucking died! You left me.” More punching, more pained noises from Dream. “Sapnap”, Dream moans. “Sapnap stop! He’s still hurt! You’re hurting him!” “Yeah?! He hurt me too when he fucking died!”, Sapnap yells but it sounds like he stopped hitting him. “You fucking died! Saving me!” “I’m sorry?” “Never ever ever do that again! I fucking hate you.” Then there’s silence and George asks: “Dream?” “Give me a second”, he answers and his voice is muffled in what George is pretty sure is a hug. After another few seconds George says: “Dream? Somebody might have heard that. Somebody might come!” “Don’t worry, I looped the camera footage”, Dream says but comes out of Sapnap’s cell, one arm still around Sapnap, whos hugging his side while he opens George’s cell. “Hi”, he says again, smiling at him from under the guard mask he pushed into his hair. “Hola green screen”, George says stepping out. Sapnap lets go of Dream and turns towards George. “Did you know? How did you now?”, he demands. “It was you with the cookies, wasn’t it?”, George asks Dream, ignoring Sapnap. “Yep”, Dream says, popping the P. “How’d you do it?” “I made some very helpful, very tiny, friends”, Dream grins smug. “How?!” “What how? How did I make friends? I’m very likeable.” “No, you’re not”, George says and Sapnap simultaneously says: “Shut up. How did you know George? And why didn’t you tell me?” George finally tears his eyes away from Dream’s face to look at his seething friend. “On the fourth day there was this new guard, and do you really think I can’t recognize this idiot by his voice alone?” “Why didn’t you tell me?!”, Sapnap asks punching George’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to distract you from the games.” “I hate you. I hate you both”, Sapnap says. “No. You love me”, George says haughtily. “Yes, I do”, Sapnap says, letting go of Dream completely now to grab George’s face and press exaggerated kisses to every bit of skin he can catch of the squirming George. “And you love me too, say you love me too!” “No! Leave me alone! Stop it!”, George protests. “Come on George, say you love me!” “No! Shut up!” Dream rolls his eyes at the ceiling. “Guys. Are we going out of here or what?” That shuts them up pretty quickly. “I got guard uniforms for you”, Dream says and hands them over. “They’re gonna take out the bodies soon, we need to take one of the trucks.” George and Sapnap nod and hurry to change.

It's nerve wrecking. George has been in many nerve wrecking, life threating situations over the last few days but marching down corridors with the guards, trying to be one of them is terrifying. Dream is in front of him, Sapnap behind him and George still feels like they are going to know. Any second now one of them is going to call them out and shoot their heads. They can’t see his face behind the unfamiliar mask but every time he makes accidental eye contact with another guard his heart jumps into his throat and his stomach drops. Surely, they know. If he learned to tell them apart after a few days, surely, they can tell George and Sapnap don’t belong here. Surely. But they make it. Dream grabs the driver’s door the seconds before another guard can, who gives them an irritated look. “Sorry”, Dream says easily. And when the guard turns to George, he says the line he has been practicing the whole way down: “El nuevo niño necesita práctica”. “Muy bien”, the guard says, stepping back and walking away after Sapnap gives him an awkward nod. As soon as the guy is out of earshot Dream orders Sapnap to get into the back of the truck. “Where the body is?”, Sapnap protests. “Don’t be a baby.” “Why does he get shotgun and I have to be share with a dead fucking body?”, Sapnap asks gesturing at George. “Because he speaks Spanish and you don’t”, Dream says before getting into the driver seat and ending the hushed discussion. “Yo hablo español”, grumbles Sapnap before sneaking around the back of the truck and climbing in.

 Dream’s POV

It’s earie pushing the stretcher through the same baren corridor he was rolled down only three days ago when he thought he was dead, when everybody thought he was dead. Coming to himself seconds before they’d have burnt him alive is not an experience, he needs reminding of. Begging, pleading for his life while his whole body hurt with bruises and his vison was blurry and failing is not something he wants to be reminded of. He grits his teeth and pushes the stretcher into the flames closing his eyes against the heat and reminding himself that it worked. They didn’t kill him; they gave him a guard position. He doesn’t know what kind of drugs they pumped into his body; he can just feel that it’s the good stuff. He still can’t stop his hands from shaking when he turns around again. “¿Estás bien chico nuevo?”, one of the other guards asks him. “Sí”, he manages to get out and just nods along as the guard keeps talking to him in a language he doesn’t speak.