#vindixfics

"Does it matter?"

"It does to me, dipshit." Kian sighs, rubbing un's temple. "Don't.. I- Dude, you gotta stop taking long to respawn. I haven't slept at all."

The latter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Sorry." Quentin mumbled.

"Sorry doesn't—"

"Sorry doesn't cut it, I know, I know." Quentin squeezed the bridge of his nose. Pix looks at him quietly. "I just... I just don't see the point, Kian."

"There is no point to this anymore, isn't there?" Un laughs uncomfortably. Quentin joins in for the first syllable. They both fall quiet.

"...No, n-no, not at all.." Quen answers, leaning on the wall behind. "Any.. Any uh.. Shit, sorry my brain is scrambled."

"Well yeah you were dead for 3 days." Kian deadpanned. He softened, "Take..Take your time."

And Quen does. They stayed in the quiet for almost two minutes before it was broken again.

"Any news on.. the save?"

It was Kian's turn to fall quiet. Three minutes this time.

"..None, I don't know why we keep bothering to wait."

"There's... There's some hope still, right?"

"They're dead, Quen."

Five minutes.

"...I know you don't mean that, Kian."

"I'm so tired."

"Me too. But you're supposed to be the positive one here."

"I was. When you were dead for three days."

"I know."

Quentin scrunches his nose. "I'll— I'll get out of bed."

"Okay."

Kian tosses him a golden apple and leaves. Quentin's left with their old friend silence again.

He casually brushed it aside until a week later when people started mysteriously disappearing. Sure, it was strange that it happened right after the incident, but it was weird that it happened around Tommy. He wrote everything that week and the next, his own personal journal to remember what went down in 2003.

Tommy was 15 when Ranboo went up to him in a panic. He was panicking and in a state Tommy had never seen before. Tommy had to shake his anxiety out before the dam burst. "Michael's missing." was all Ranboo repeated to him. Tommy vividly remembered his last words to his friend."We'll find him." They didn't. Nor did they find Ranboo.

Tommy was 15 when Dream visited him in his home. He didn't have to, he should'nt have. His family didn't believe him when he told what Dream does, what he did. That was the last time they all gathered together in the dining room.

Tommy was 16 when Dream showed him his work. He was mortified. "They died by your hands." His professor claimed, Tommy knew it was the latter. It was an accident, Tommy didn't mean it. This? Dream meant it. Revival was just a myth, monsters underneath your bed didn't exist, and transformation was just fiction. Dream just proved those wrong.

Tommy was ■■ when he reunited with his family. He told himself he was blind and they were ■■■■. He overlapped between reality and his world. What was real, what wasn't, he didn't understand. He lived in his past, when his past existed in a different light. All he knew that he was home.