xiv.

There’s a woman in the cage. The box. Whatever they call it. There’s a woman in it.

She’s short. Pale, deathly pale. Red hair. Pretty. She’s wearing a baggy jumper with a batman symbol on it and a pair of skinny jeans. Her feet are bare, but the toes are painted scarlet. The clothes don’t suit her. High heels and flouncy dresses, her hair in perfect curls - that would suit her, and Thomas doesn’t know why he’s so sure about this, but he is.

She heaves in a breath like she’s fighting for it, and she looks straight at Thomas as though she knew where he’d be.

She says, “Stiles.”

xv.

He puts her out of his mind. She’s nothing to do with him, just another kid sent up to the glade. Who cares if it was unusual? Who cares if she’s the first girl they’ve had, who gives a flying fuck about anything to do with her?

Thomas doesn’t. He doesn’t.

He cares about the griever rotting in the maze and the secrets it holds. He cares about getting out. He feels constricted, hemmed in by the walls of the maze - his maze, his fucking maze and if it’s so saturated with his magic why can’t he get out? Why can’t he just blast his way through, force it open, why can’t he get the fuck out of here?

He can’t focus. He needs to focus. There’s something he’s missing, something important and he just needs to sit down and think. He needs everyone to stop fucking looking at him like that, he needs his thoughts to shut up and stop distracting him.

He’s pacing so fast he almost gives himself whiplash when he turns. His fingers tug at the hem of his shirt and his pulse is rabbiting in his neck.

He needs to calm down. He wants Alby, wants the dryad’s endless patience, but Alby’s sick and Thomas’ magic is sparking and fighting his control and Thomas doesn’t know how much longer he can keep Alby grounded. He’s started fitting on the hospital bed. Clint gave him a swipe of paralysing poison, but Alby’s still shaking. He’s going to get worse and there’s nothing Thomas can do and if he wasn’t trapped then maybe maybe maybe

But that’s no help because he needs to fucking focus. He turns back to head for Newt because he’s hyperventilating and he can’t stop and he needs his pack, but that’s a bad plan, that’s a really messed up bad plan because what the hell is even up with Newt and just at the moment Thomas can’t deal.

He takes a breath, as deep as he can. Tries to count it down. A shadow of a memory flicks through, someone staying with him, counting his breaths for him when he can’t hold onto the numbers. But they’re not here. They’re out there and Thomas is in here and he’s trapped.

He can’t get out. His magic thrashes against the maze and it’s his maze so why doesn’t it listen to him why isn’t it moving and why isn’t it opening and he can’t get out he can’t breath there’s a ringing in his ears he can’t breath there are black spots dancing across the edges of his vision and he can’t get out the girl called him Stiles but that’s not his name it’s not it’s not it’s not

“Thomas?”

Thomas spins, grips their shoulders hard enough to bruise. “I need to get back into the maze,” he gasps, and that’s - that’s clarity. That’s calm. “I need to get back into the maze,” he repeats, slower, his vision clearing and his breathing stabilising.

Minho shrugs his hands off. “Have you got a death wish?” he hisses. “You only just got out of the maze, now you want to go back in?”

Thomas shakes his head. “I want to get out - for good. Think about it, Minho! No one’s ever seen a griever and now we have one. Ours, just lying there. Aren’t you even a little curious?” He’s grinning, hands flying wildly to illustrate his point. The griever is their ticket out, the bit he’s been missing. Minho is stepping back, folding his arms, but Thomas has him, he knows it. They’re going back in the maze.

xvi.

Is Minho pack now? Minho kinda seems like he should be pack now. He stuck his arm into griever-goop to get Thomas a shiny beeping magic thing. He’s definitely pack now.

xvii.

“It’s a key,” Thomas explains as Newt turns the cylinder over in his hands. The other boy is back to being cool and almost distant with Thomas, but then again, their hands maybe brushed a tiny bit when Thomas was handing the cylinder over and Thomas is maybe a little bit highly strung around Newt at the moment. For obvious reasons.

He pushes it down and drags his mind back to the matter at hand. “I don’t know what for exactly, not yet, but it interacts with the maze.”

Newt runs his thumb over the letters down the side and Thomas’ heart skips a beat. Fuck’s sake, he’s in a room full of weres with heart-beat-detecting hearing. He needs to get a grip.

“How?”

“I don’t remember the mechanics -” no, wait. That’s not true. Thomas tilts his head to the side, waiting for the information that was hovering on the edge of his mind. Sometimes, sometimes you just have to be cunning with these things. “The maze… It’s too big. Something that complicated, you can’t change part of it. The whole thing collapses if you try.” He nods to himself, more confident in what he’s saying. It makes sense. Sky is blue, things that go up must come down, and, “When a seal is too complex to rewrite on the fly, you write the original seal to cover all possibilities and use separate commands to flip between the options. It’s a matrix transformation; same data always encoded in the matrix, but different outputs depending on the transformation you’ve applied.”

Yes, that’s it - he reaches for the cylinder. Newt hands it over with a bemused expression that Thomas fails to notice. He digs his fingers into the casing, sending out an exploratory flare of magic to get a reading and - called it. He bares his teeth in a vicious smile. “It is a runic matrix, I knew it. This is how they control the maze, don’t you see? Load the right runes onto the grievers and send them to the right place - it’s programming, programming with magic, oh my god I’m in heaven, I didn’t even know this was possible on this scale - do you even understand what this means?”

“No?” Minho hazards. He doesn’t seem to grasp the enormity of Thomas’ discovery. Thomas waves the life changing magic cylinder at him to help him see.

“Wards! Dynamic wards - you could key them to people, or activate different wards at different times, you could set traps with these anywhere and no one could sense them because there wouldn’t be anything to sense, not until you activated the wards do you see? And spells, god could you imagine a multi layered spell with a hidden second phase? Mayhem! Chaos! Minho this is beautiful!”

Newt grabs a flailing hand and drags Thomas back a step. “Does it help us break the maze?” he demands. Thomas whirls on him, because this is so much bigger than the maze, it’s - Newt’s serious face stops him in his tracks. He plays the conversation back through his head until he’s back with the program again.

“Yes,” he manages in a calmer voice. “The grievers use it to move around in the maze. If we can get back in the maze, if we can work out how to apply it, we can use it for the same thing.” Newt frowns at him, working through what he’s said, and Thomas lifts his chin. He’s sure about this.

Newt’s still holding his wrist. Just, just by the by.

“Ok.” Newt nods and takes a step back. His fingers drag up the inside of Thomas’ arm when he lets go and there’s fire trailing in their wake. Thomas swallows and tries to pretend that he’s not affected. He pokes at Newt’s pack bond again but it’s still - he’s still - frustratingly silent.

“Ok,” Newt repeats. “I’m not going to say I understood most of that, but I got the gist.”

“How the hell do you even know that stuff?” Minho asks, and Thomas absolutely did not jump, because he hadn’t forgotten that Minho was there. It’s not like his whole attention had been on Newt or anything. No.

Gally snorts (and Thomas hadn’t forgotten he was there either, he’s doing well with that today, and yes, sarcasm is a way of life and lying to himself is a human right that he will not be denied). “Didn’t you get the memo? All powerful alpha Thomas has strange and mysterious powers that are beyond us mere mortals.”

Alpha? The hell?

“Gally,” Newt starts, but the other boy cuts across him.

“Oh come on, Newt, you can’t be serious! First he breaks our rules, then he tries to get them thrown out completely. You see what he’s doing, don’t you?” He jabs a hand at Thomas to illustrate his point and his lips twist into a sneer. “We’ve spent three years building up this glade, making it equal and ordered and making it work. He spends three days here and he’s trying to control everything because he’s an alpha and that’s what alphas do.”

“I’m not trying to control anything!” Thomas protests. “This isn’t a fucking coup, Gally - I’m getting us out of the maze, that’s it. That’s all of it!”

“Yeah?” Gally bares his teeth. “Then prove it, shank! If you were any other glader you’d be punished for breaking the rules. You going to submit to that?”

“Yes!”

There’s a stunned silence. Thomas runs a hand through his hair and tries to get his breathing under control. “I’m not your enemy,” he says finally. “I want to get out - but I want everyone to get out. I’m not leaving you behind.” He lets his hand drop and shrugs. “Alby left Newt in charge. If Newt says punishment, I’m not going to fight it.”

“But Newt’s an omega,” Gally says.

“I know.” Actually, he’s fairly certain that Newt’s a beta now, but best not quibble.

“And you’re an alpha.”

“Doesn’t matter.” And he’s still dubious about the whole alpha schtick. He doesn’t feel like much of an alpha, he’s just… Just Thomas. He wanted a pack, that’s all.

Gally stares. “What the hell shank, you’re not even lying.”

Thomas shrugs again. There’s not much else he can say to that. “Newt?” he asks, keeping his gaze trained on the scuffed footprints on the floor. Newt’s going to give a punishment. He kind of has to, at this point. And Thomas has to obey it or let Gally turn him into a liar. Which he isn’t.

He hopes Newt doesn’t banish him. Or ban him from the maze. He’s so close, so close to getting them all out of here. And… he doesn’t know where he stands with Newt at the moment. This whole ignoring you - oh wait no, here’s some eye fucking - no, back to ignoring you thing, it’s confusing.

“Thomas broke the rules,” Newt finally announces. “He needs to be punished.” Thomas braces himself, shoulders tense. “One night in the pit, no food.”

He’s stunned. He barely hears Gally’s angry protests, barely even registers Newt promoting him to runner status. He nods and tries not to grin (he doubts it would go down well). Newt’s supporting him. Newt wants him to go back, is helping him find a way to fix this stupid mess and get them out. It doesn’t explain the whole ignoring thing, but - it’s a start.

He waits for the others to file out (or angrily stomp out in Gally’s case) until it’s just him and Newt left in the hut. And then, then, see, he has a plan. A well thought out plan where he’ll calmly ask Newt to explain, and Newt will say something that makes sense and then they’ll laugh and hug it out and maybe if Thomas is lucky the hug will go in an interesting direction. The important thing is that he starts out calm.

He toes the door to a closed position and takes a deep breath. Turns to face Newt. Remembers his calm. He is all of the calm. His chi is in balance.

Newt’s got one eyebrow raised. He’s leaning back against the wall with his head tipped back and his eyes half lidded and his crossed arms pulling his shirt low at the collar. The left side of his lips twitch up into a smirk.

Guh.

“You going to try and talk me out of it?” Newt asks, and holy whores in a crack house it should be illegal for a voice to be that sexy. It’s low and there’s a hint of roughness at the edges and with Newt’s accent it just rolls off his tongue like caramel syrup oh my god.

“What?” Thomas manages to croak.

The half smirk evolves into a full smirk. Newt pushes off the wall in one smooth movement. His shoulders ripple beneath his shirt and there’s a bead of sweat running down his throat to pool in the hollow of his collar bones. It’s hypnotising. Thomas can’t look away from that bead of sweat. A griever could break through the roof and Thomas would be dead because of that bead of sweat. Newt’s neck is literally killing him.

“Weren’t you listening?” Newt purrs. He’s walking towards Thomas - stalking towards him, hips moving with each step and if he had a tail he’d be lashing it behind him - and Thomas backs away on instinct. His back hits the wall. His magic hovers awkwardly, one step from melting through the wall to let him keep moving away, but then Newt is there, bracketing Thomas with his arms and his thigh one long line of heat against Thomas and Thomas just stares, his mouth is hanging open, holy crap he thinks he’s forgotten how his knees work if Newt wasn’t holding him up he’d be a puddle on the floor and just. Just.

The bond is carefully, achingly, silent.

“Your punishment,” Newt says, his lips brushing Thomas’ ear. “Shall I retract it, Alpha mine?”

The bond is silent and Newt’s head is bowed, blond hair falling over his face and hiding his eyes. Thomas swallows, something bitter rising in his throat. He raises his hands to push against the other boy’s chest, but Newt takes the opportunity to dip his head. He licks one long, wet stripe up Thomas’ neck and Thomas’ knees follow up on their threat to give out beneath him.

“Newt,” he gasps out, fingers clutching against his shoulders. The rough wall digs into his back and Newt’s hip is bony against his own and between them, they’re all that keeps him upright. Newt presses a grin against his throat and an ugly satisfaction bleeds down the link between them.

“Is that a yes, Alpha?”

Thomas grits his teeth. “No,” he manages. Newt hesitates against him. “No,” Thomas repeats, stronger. He forces his legs to cooperate and slides out sideways from underneath Newt, turning until they’re facing each other. Newt turns with him, leaning one shoulder against the wall and crossing his ankles in a facsimile of calm.

“No,” he says, too flat to be a question.

Thomas crosses his arms defensively and hunches in. He wants to reach for the bond again, hell, he wants to reach for Chuck just for the security that his pack would give him, but he doesn’t. Keeps all limbs and thoughts and magic carefully inside his own space. “I said I’d serve whatever punishment you decided, so I will. I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Even though you’re an alpha?”

His lips pull down into a sour frown. “I’m not -” he starts, but Newt cuts across him.

“You are.” Newt runs a clawed hand through his hair, gripping and tugging on the blond strands. He shifts restlessly, his gaze jerking away from Thomas and back as though he can’t decide where to look. “You’re an alpha, you’ve made yourself my alpha. Alphas don’t follow orders from betas.”

“Alby left you in charge,” Thomas protests. He feels sick, and he doesn’t want to understand why. “You know the glade - the Gladers - better than I do, it’d be stupid for me to take charge.”

“Alphas always take charge,” Newt scoffs. Thomas shrinks in on himself further. How are they having this argument? How did they go from - from - to this? “Alphas take anything they want, it’s not like they need to ask.”

He feels like he’s been plunged into ice. His voice comes as though from far away and sounds odd in his ears. “Anything. Like. Like you.”

Newt snorts, sharp and hurtful. “It’s not like you hid it,” and the words cut into Thomas like talons. “You didn’t give me a choice before, why should I expect one with this?”

Oh. Oh god. Because, because Thomas had been running and had been scared and Ben had been too close behind him, and he’d reached for Newt in a panic and the bond had flared to life. Because Thomas had wanted it to. Because he’d needed something that Newt had, needed Newt as his pack.

He has a feeling that he’d come across an alpha before that had made a pack without asking.

He has a feeling that he’d set the fucker on fire for doing it.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out. “I didn’t -” he doesn’t finish that sentence. It would probably be a lie anyway. He feels for the bond inside his head, feels how deeply it’s rooted itself, and grimaces. He can break it. He thinks. It will - it won’t be pleasant, but if he breaks it his end, then he should be able to stop any of the backlash reaching Newt.

Shit, this is going to hurt.

He takes a breath and screws his eyes shut, his magic coiling around and dampening the bond in preparation -

Newt slams his hand away, grip hard enough to grind his wrist bones together as he pins it to the wall. “What the fuck are you doing?” the coyote snarls, eyes glowing an electric blue.

“Fixing it,” Thomas spits back. Newt snarls again, pressing closer, claws digging into Thomas’ shoulder. The bond flares between them, a maelstrom of anger and shock and why why why why and something that might almost be hope. “You don’t want it,” Thomas says, but it comes out almost like a question. “So…” he licks his lips, searching for the words, and Newt’s gaze hones in like a homing beacon. Thomas’ throat goes dry. “So no pack?”

“Yes pack,” Newt growls, and his eyebrows add, you bloody idiot, but there’s something almost fond in their cultured british accent.

“Oh,” Thomas manages, and Newt kisses him.

Guh.


The door cracks.

A strip of light floods in, almost reaching his feet from where he wedged himself into the little corner between the wall and the chest. It is the closest he can get to how things used to be in the cell, and it is pretty much all he can do to hold himself together as much as he can.

It’s probably Phil bringing him some soup. He still doesn’t quite get why they’re so adamant on him having soup all the time. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy it, he just doesn’t get why it is so important for them. They weren’t as insistent on him doing any of the other things they used to do. At least it was just soup, none of the other things they had tried. Bread wasn’t too bad, just tiring to chew, but he wasn’t fond of any other things they had tried. Certainly not the golden things they had wanted him to try once. Their consistence was weird, and they left a metallic feel in his mouth. Somehow, it had deeply unsettled him, and he had refused them the next time.

He doesn’t want soup right now, or at all for a while. He just wants to sit in his corner and either slip into the void or make sense of what is going on and what he is supposed to do. Everything was confusing, and he knew nothing aside from everything feeling wrong and fake.

He doesn’t even know if he could trust Techno and Phil anymore. Yes, they had been friendly to him and helped his body move again. They had taken him from the little cell and brought him to this big and beautiful place with so many things to explore and learn. He knows he had felt such a profound sense of relief when he had first seen them in his cell, even if he doesn’t remember any other part of the ordeal. The sense of relief stayed, even when his guide had taken over and led him to float in the void soon after they had appeared and taken him away. It had been too strong of an impression to forget even through the whirlwind of things that had happened afterwards.

But he doesn’t know what to make of the relief now. He doesn’t know what caused it. It couldn’t have been just seeing them. Because seeing Tommy or Wilbur hadn’t caused any of that relief, much more the opposite. Not even Ranboo had caused any reaction aside from mild curiosity, although he had never even gotten close to him. It couldn’t have been familiarity or anything, because it was clear that Techno and Phil were family to Tommy and Wilbur. And Tommy very clearly hated Dream, and judging by the feeling both he and Wilbur caused in him, Dream was sure that they had shown him that very clearly before. He didn’t understand most of the fight between the four, he had been too busy trying to wrangle the chaos in his mind into either calming down, or plunging him into the void. Neither of the two scenarios had happened, but from the little he had understood through his breakdown it at least seemed like Techno and Phil had not agreed with Tommy.

That should have been reassuring probably; if it had not caused them to bring up the memories that he had given away. And even though Tommy and Wilbur had both left, it was only a question of time until they would return and there was no guarantee that Phil and Techno would always be on his side. It was clear they still cared for Tommy, that he was family in a way that he, that Dream, was not.

He didn’t know why he was here at all. There was no trace that he had any kind of relationship to them outside of the weird but positive Deja-vu he had when seeing Techno for the first time after waking up here. He did not have any prior feelings regarding them outside of that and he hadn’t worried about that until Tommy showed up. Now he was doubting everything and feeling misplaced and wrong.

The worst part was the helplessness. He had no idea what to do if Phil and Techno decided he wasn’t worth it anymore. If they wanted him to leave. How would he even get back to the cell? He had no idea where it was. Maybe they would bring him there themselves? Somehow, he doubted that. Techno wasn’t fond of the cell, mildly spoken. But that didn’t change that it was the only place Dream had left. Where else would he go? He didn’t know anything or anywhere.

The hem of Phil’s green robe comes into view. Ah. He zoned out again. Not that it was important to him, but both Phil and Techno didn’t like it when he was distracted and unresponsive. He tried to avoid it around them, since their dislike for it set off a quite unsettling feeling in his gut. However, sometimes he couldn’t help it. Another pair of footsteps follows, and Dream realizes that it must mean that Techno has returned from whatever trip he went on.

But then another pair of feet steps into the room and Dream freezes in his tracks. It could not be Tommy, right? It hadn’t been that long since he’d been here. What if he had never left? What if he got angry again? What if he had convinced Phil and Techno of his opinion and they came to get rid of him?

His vision swims as his heart rate picks up. His breath is getting thinner and he could swear that the floor is tipping over, when the person belonging to the unfamiliar pair of shoes is squatting down. His breathing stocks as his gaze zeroes in on the new person. The blonde hair is the first thing he notices, fear crawling up his throat before his view dips and the face comes into view.

Blue eyes and blond hair just like Tommy, but it’s missing the curls and the overwhelming anger reflected in the eyes. No, this isn’t Tommy, this isn’t anyone that has visited before, and yet Dream can say with unwavering clarity that he has met this person before. Has met him before. And unlike with Tommy and Wilbur, where he had felt choked up in fear and terror at their sight, this one feels different. Not even the relief at their first meeting, not the Deja-Vu with Techno can compare to the feeling that floods him.

It is like sunlight on his skin, it’s the security of a warm blanket and a bowl of his favourite soup, it’s like holding Patches and feeling her lick his face in gentle kisses. It’s an overwhelming sense of trust, of familiarity, of safety, and it’s not just a feeling, it’s a conviction. Even his inner guide rises up, reaching towards the stranger that isn’t all that strange, preening with joy at the sight.

The new persons face is tinted in worry and nervousness, but all of that is overshadowed by the genuine relief and joy in his eyes.

“Hey Dream.” He says, and his voice is gentle and apologetic and joyful all at once and Dream can’t help it. His eyes start leaking, and he sobs, overwhelmed with the situation. His body still feels like lead and he is so exhausted that he barely made the way to this corner, but all of that doesn’t matter when he throws himself towards him. He has no strength to catch himself but Dream doesn’t have to, because he does it automatically.

His face buries into white, soft fabric as two strong arms wind around his torso and hold him so tightly he can almost forget how lost and broken apart he felt. His face sinks into Dreams hair and one hand comes up to hold his head as he whispers apology after apology into the wispy whitened hair.

And Dream lets himself be held, because even with all the doubts that plagued him, everything within him unwaveringly knows that this person is as safe as the sun is warm.

He lets himself be held, and he lets himself cry.

***

Techno had been worried about how the interaction would go. Dream had already been doing badly after seeing Tommy and Wilbur, and he really did not want it to get worse.

The only reason he went ahead with it was the fact that Punz seemed legitimately to be the only actual friend that Dream had left. Because as much respect for their skill as they had, and even with the 3 months in the prison, he and Dream were not quite “friends”. Friendly rivals seemed the most fitting label for their relationship.

Seeing the way Dream had begun to freak out at first made him think it hadn’t been a good idea. The nerves had amplified and he was prepared to stop everything. What he had not been prepared for though had been the way Dream had pretty much launched himself at Punz and then proceed to bawl his eyes out. It was the most noise they have heard him make ever while he was awake.

Dream quite literally melted into the embrace, face buried in Punz hoodie as he held him and experienced his own little breakdown. It was clear that Dream was more than fine with Punz being here, which convinced Techno that it was safe to give them a little privacy.

He and Phil went to the kitchen, where he filled him in on everything that Punz had told him, while Phil gave a short recollection of the day. Dream still had not been doing well, but with his reaction to Punz, they started to feel a little more confident.

When they checked in on them a good hour later, both of them had fallen asleep huddled up in the little corner, clutching at each other like a lifeline. They left the room quietly, leaving them to their well-deserved rest. It was precious, made Techno both hopeful for Dreams future, and a little wary of the past.

While he and Phil had undoubtedly tried their best in helping Dream, there still had been mistakes that might have been avoidable. They tried hard to avoid some things in case they might set off a bad reaction, but in hindsight, Techno felt like there might have been a few things that they should have tried to do.

Looking at the way Dream had clutched at Punz made him realize that they had never really… hugged him. To be fair, Techno was not really a touchy person, and neither was Phil, and they were dealing with a traumatized torture and isolation victim. The closest they got to “cuddling” were probably the few times they had sat on the leather couch together, Dream in their middle as Phil fixed his hair. Aside from that, there was not a lot of touch between them, outside of medical care or the physical therapy they had helped Dream with. It makes him feel a little foolish when he remembers how boneless Dream got when Phil took his time to wash and braid his hair, and how he had enjoyed therapy once they got past the part of hurting.

Was it something that he needed? That he had craved and they hadn’t realized to give it to him? On the other hand, was it just because of Punz? It worried Techno, but even trying to remember back to the DSMP days didn’t help him. Because yes, he remembers Dream hanging off his friends and vice versa back then, but he also remembers that Dream had not been that touchy with him.

He did not like feeling so out of his depth. It felt like he was in the middle of battle and somehow overlooked a key step in his opponents attack pattern. It was uncomfortable, made him feel doubtful of his own perception. But at the same time he felt hesitant to ask Punz for clarification, worried to have missed something obvious.

Luckily, for him, he did not have to ask.

*

When Punz emerges from the room a few hours later, with messy hair and sleep still clinging to his features, his whole energy had shifted. Where he had arrived tense and worried, there is now a lightness and ease to his step. Sleeping on the floor, wedged into a small corner could not have been comfortable and yet he looks rested and refreshed.

“Hey mate!” Phil calls quietly from where he is sitting at the dinner table, a cup of tea steaming in front of him. “Sleep well?” he teases good-naturedly, and Punz smiles easily in return.

“Best sleep I’ve had in 13 years. He’s always been touchy, but I didn’t realize how much I missed it.” He plops down into the chair across from Phil, leaning heavily into the backrest. He is about to ask where Techno went, when the latter sets a cup down in front of him as well with a muffled “Here.” It is tea, hot and aromatic, and now that he concentrates on it, he notices how his stomach grumbles in hopes for food. He prepares to reach into his inventory to pull out a golden apple, but Phil is faster.

“We have some rabbit stew and fresh bread if you’d like?” he offers, and gestures to the kitchen, where a basket of bread sits next to the stove with a simmering pot. Of course he doesn’t say no, a warm meal infinitely more inviting than his travel food.

Quickly, a wooden bowl filled to the brim with savoury, thick stew is served. The bread is perfectly soft on the inside with a nice crunch to the crust. The first spoonful is like heaven, and finally, a knot starts to unravel in Punz’s chest. He found Dream, Dream is okay as he can be within his circumstances, and he has a warm meal to enjoy with people he can safely label as allies.

For the first time in years, he genuinely feels like things will be okay.

*

“How is Dream?” Phil asks once Punz has is on the last spoonful’s of the bowl. Punz chews carefully, before swallowing to reply. “Good, I think.” He picks up the cup of tea to wash the bite down. “I put him into the bed before leaving. He seemed exhausted.”

“I can imagine.” Phil hums thoughtfully. “All that crying must have tired him out after these last few days.”

“Right.” Punz agrees, and sets his spoon down. “Now that I’ve seen him and we have a little time, I’d like to hear more about how he’s been doing.” He looks down at the cup of tea. “I really want to avoid doing anything that could set him on edge or hurt him.” He stops for a moment, before continuing, “I think he’s been hurt enough.”

***

When Dream wakes up, it is to a soft bed and warm covers. For a moment, he just floats in the comfortable haze, blissfully unaware of everything that hurts him. Slowly, the events of the past days trickle into his mind, but the apathy is staying out for a bit longer than before. He doesn’t question waking up in the bed, even though he had spent the majority of his time on the floor in the corner. Probably either Phil or Techno had picked him up and put him to bed.

He feels well rested and his mind is clear, despite the heaviness to his limbs. Opening his eyes is not as hard as it had been, and the room is awash in gentle light. The darkness must have passed only recently. There is a peculiar scent in the air, herbal and fragrant. He moves his head to the side, wondering whether Phil or Techno showed up with another soup to insist he eat, when he stops in his motion.

Next to his bed sits a person in the chair usually reserved for when Techno or Phil decided to spend some time with him in the room. He has light blond hair, and wears a bright white hoodie, holding a steaming cup in his hands. Almost immediately, he remembers what happened before he had woken up in the bed.

Techno and Phil had brought the stranger with them, but the stranger wasn’t a stranger, in the same way Techno hadn’t been a stranger when he first saw him. Just like before, his inner guide preens at the sight, like Patches would in the warm sunlight after he shared his soup with her. He doesn’t remember the person, but he knows him. There is no doubt there.

But this time it was so unlike the light feeling of relief and familiarity he had with Techno. It was so much more intense, just like the fear he had felt with Tommy.  Even now, the feeling was just as intense as it had been the first time. It felt right and comfortable, to see him sitting there, next to his bed on a chair. It made sense, it was familiar and safe.

The sheer, overwhelming relief at that made his eyes water. He wants to reach out to him, to submerge himself in the relief that comes with his presence. Like he read his mind, the person sits up, and puts the cup down before he gently extends his arm to him, the hand open and inviting. It is not far by any means, but his arm still aches as he reaches to take it. His hand ends up flopped just on top, the bandages almost as pristine as the sleeves of his hoodie. The hand is warm from the cup, even through the layers of the bandage. He holds Dreams hands carefully; and this too, feels comfortable and safe.

“Hi.” His voice is calm, with only the faintest waver, and Dream remembers how he had cried with him and he feels so, so safe. “My name is Punz. We are friends. I looked for you for a long time. I’m very glad I finally found you. I missed you.”

He speaks slowly, words picked carefully and pronounced clearly. Dream understands every word.

He doesn’t do anything to stop the tears from falling.

***

“…And you think summoning XD will help figure out what happened to Dreams memory?” Punz asks, while his eyes wander over the pages of the book that Techno had shown him. Blood splatters over the pages and in rough lines a few words are spelled. His eyes linger on the ‘Mercy’, and his stomach knots in anger and worry.

“Well, summon is quite optimistic, considering I don’t have the revival book. But the god is somehow connected to it. At the very least, they might be able to answer a few questions, give us a new lead.” Techno explains. “Dream wouldn’t have mentioned the name if it wasn’t important. And since it is kind of impossible to bring the topic up without him freaking out, we’re kind of left with XD.”

“Do we know why he was scared?” Punz questions, looking at Techno and Phil, but both are answerless. “All we have are guesses.” Techno says, while Phil shrugs helplessly. “It might be because of Tommy’s presence, or it was just amplified through the trauma that was triggered with the fighting and everything.”

“It’s difficult.” Techno says, getting up from his chair to pace the room. “According to the messages he had sent while in the prison, he had started to forget only a year or so from the disaster. And while at first he seemed to try and fight against it, he just gave up at one point. That’s all we have in regards to the cause of his amnesia.”

“Which-” he stops pacing, “-would mean that the amnesia was caused through the circumstance, and not a disorder or dysfunction of the brain. Which means that we should be able to reverse it. However…“ he starts moving again “that doesn’t explain why he seems so afraid of the topic.”

“Maybe it’s subconscious?” Phil theorizes. “Maybe his brain tries to supress the memories because of the trauma. But wouldn’t it be better to confront it then, to avoid further breakdowns?”

“Hmm…” Punz hums, as he leans back in his chair. “What if he is scared of remembering itself? According to what you told me he seemed fine until Tommy showed up and got very upset. What if he is scared that remembering will cause something bad to happen to him?”

He looks at the book, at the MERCY and the NO MEMORY, tries to visualize what Techno had told them of that scene. “He had freaked out when you asked him if he remembered, right after you had defended him from Tommy, partially on the grounds that he doesn’t even remember.”

“What if…” he stops for a moment to gather his thoughts, before he looks up at them. “What if he is afraid that he’ll be left behind if he remembers? That you’re going to leave him to Tommy, someone who obviously hates him?”

“He was already battling abandonment issues before he got imprisoned. Where do you think all the “attachments are bad” stuff came from?” He elaborates at their silence, with a bitter, yet fond smile. “Dream is smart, but he is also a fucking idiot with a boatload of issues. I don’t think that prison and amnesia have magically cured him of either of these things.”

“Besides….” He trails off, eyes wandering once again to the book. MERCY MERCY MERCY “That fear wouldn’t even be unreasonable. It wouldn’t be the first time someone he cared about left him because of Tommy.”

***

It’s warm outside. For the first time, Dream feels like he might be able to sit in the grass without the warm cape Phil had given him. He still wears it, just in case. More than just providing him warmth, it makes him feel safe. Wrapping himself up in the fabric helps to shut out the world around him.

He had been nervous sitting in the grass in front of the house. Even the slightest noise had him swivelling his head around in fear of Tommy returning. At least, until Punz had sat a little basket down in the grass before flopping down next to him. Soon after, Patches had slunk out of the treeline and made her way over to them. She climbed into Dreams lap quickly, and lapped at his face and hands with such ferocity that it startled a little laugh out of him. It seemed she had missed him enough to be twice as attentive as usual.

She even let Dream introduce her to Punz, sniffing at his offered hand and tolerating a few pats without much fuss. After sharing a bit of steak with her, Punz quickly rose in her regard though. The cat was content to roll through the grass between them and play with their hands.

Slowly, but surely, Dream forgot about his worry and relaxed. Whenever he pointed at something, Punz would name it and explain what it was, always in that calm and simple way. It was so easy to understand him, without the gruff drawl of Techno’s voice and his long, winding sentences full of complicated words, and the lilt and peculiar pronunciation of Phil’s.

Punz had been very kind to him ever since that first meeting. He seemed to always be there, just a step behind him if not right by his side. He never pushed or asked for anything, instead content to just follow Dream’s lead. And throughout it all, through every interaction, that very same sense of familiarity stayed. Everything Punz did felt right, it made sense.

It helped immensely to keep the insecurity and fear at bay that had taken hold of Dream after Tommy had shown up. He didn’t feel wrong in Punz’s company, didn’t feel like a place holder or as if he wasn’t supposed to be there. It felt right, comfortable even.

Maybe it was also that the one time he had asked him about Tommy, Punz had scoffed and told him that he didn’t care about Tommy at all. That was another thing with Punz. He had given him the little screen that used to sit on his wrist back in the prison, and showed him how to use it.

To Dreams surprise, although it involved writing in a way, his guide hadn’t balked at it at all. It had stayed completely calm and uninterested, and finally Dream had a way to communicate easier. Signing had been a little harder with now both of his hands damaged, so he gladly welcomed another alternative. Especially since he only needed his thumbs for it. He didn’t even need to show it to Punz, since he could just send it to his own device.

Dream found himself being a lot more communicative after that. It was so much easier to ask questions now, no longer limited to signs that he had to memorize, and none of the pressure and worry that came with speaking or writing. He liked talking to Punz in this way. Punz also never asked for his memory, despite it being clear that he knew Dream. Instead, he just told him things, never expecting Dream to know or remember them. Of course, Dream avoided to bring up things that could lead back to his memory, but he still appreciated the possibility to hear of their friendship. It soothed his worries and reassured him of his place next to Punz. He belonged. He belonged.

He was happy.

He wanted Punz to stay forever.

***

Bringing Punz here had been the best decision Techno had made in Dreams healing process. Dream had been pushed out of his depressive, apathetic start almost immediately after Punz’s arrival. Even when the initial excitement mellowed out, he still didn’t return to that sad, disinterested state. They had finally gotten to try communicating via his communicator, and it worked splendid. They still tried to avoid imperatives, and formulated their questions carefully, but overall it had made a big step forward while Dreams hands healed.

Although Techno had been a little upset that he had not been able to help Dream as good as Punz somehow seemed to be able to, he was mostly happy with the progress. He also knew that it wasn’t a fair comparison. After all, Punz had been a close friend to Dream and knew him a lot better than Techno ever had. It was clear that it would be easier for him to connect to Dream. Besides, he was glad that he didn’t have to start cuddling with Dream. Putting his preferences for physical closeness aside, he would have been very worried of accidentally hurting Dream. Even after all the time with them, he was still quite frail and Techno was a huge, strong guy. He supposed he made a comfortable surface to cuddle up to, according to his experiences with Tommy and Wilbur, especially when they had been younger. But Dream had never initiated anything like that, so he can’t help but feel that it might have ended incredibly awkward.

Thankfully, Punz seemed more than fine with taking over that part. It was not rare to find Dream leaned against him or both of them cuddled up in Dreams little corner. More often than not, they would be holding hands, Punz always careful of Dreams hurt ones. Phil had once asked about the state of their relationship, but Punz had just laughed and easily denied any interest in anything of the sorts. ‘Dream had always been like that’ he had said, ‘usually he spread his need for affection evenly across his friend group, but after everything I was kinda the only one left over. I didn’t used to be super touchy, but it had been easy to do it for Dream, and after all those years, it was even easier to return to it.’

“Not just for Dream, but also for me” he had added after a bit. “He’s my friend. I missed him a lot.”

All in all, they had made much more progress in a week than in the last months combined. Techno even felt fully comfortable to make the trip to the Dream SMP to find XD, not worried about how Dream would be doing without him there. He was fully confident in the combined efforts of Phil and Punz to take care of Dream.

Or well, that had been the plan, until Punz had told him that he would be coming with him.

On that morning, Techno had done a final check of his things. It was mostly perfunctory, he had made sure he had everything he needed the night before, and it wasn’t as if he needed a lot of things. It was mostly routine, just something to give him peace of mind.

He had just clasped his cape into place, when Punz had stepped into the entryway, storing a loaf of bread in his inventory. “Coming to say goodbye?” Techno had teased slightly, but Punz shook his head.

“I’m coming with you.” He replied, and Techno stopped in surprise. “What? Why? What about Dream?” he asked in bewilderment, but Punz did not waver.

“I have something you’ll need.” He explained, cryptically, not explaining anything at all. “Okay, I guess?” Techno agreed, a little hesitant, but Punz had proven to be trustworthy, and the finality in his eyes was convincing enough for now. After all, Phil was still here to take care of Dream.

***

Tommy feels ridiculous. Although sneaking in through the backdoor shouldn’t, and truly wasn’t, new to him in any way, he couldn’t help the unease that sat in his stomach. It was stupid, ridiculously stupid. He had done so many dumb things in his life where he could have used even a spoonful of apprehension, but this was the moment his conscience decided to speak up?

He couldn’t even quite pin down where the feeling came from, but that was nothing new. Ever since his talk with XD, the PRIME GOD, just as a reminder, he has been in a constant state of confusion. It felt like the god had taken everything he knew and tipped it over with their absurdly large and spooky unattached hands.

It’s been days since the talk, and he still hadn’t been able to settle his thoughts. He had crashed at Tubbos for most of that time, hoping that his and Ranboos mushy relationship balance would maybe somehow inspire some enlightening in him. But even with all their silent eye-to-eye conversations and their harmony and their healthy, mature life in marital bliss he hadn’t felt a solution approach. He spent most of his time playing with Michael instead, feeling a little more at ease drawing crayon scribbles on paper instead of confronting his inner turmoil.

But that only worked for so long before Tubbo kicked him out for “moping” and told him to fix his shit. As appalling as it was, Tommy agreed. He wanted this to be over with, and the only person he could think of who might provide him with some clarity… was Phil. If he was being honest, he probably should also visit his Therapist again, but he still felt reluctant to return to a battle he thought he had already conquered.

So Phil it was. He had been thinking of a place to meet up, when he had almost run into Techno near the spawn of the DSMP. Now, a less intelligent man might have confused Tommy’s wild dash up the tree with “panic”, but it was just a tactical retreat on his part. Even though there wasn’t really a reason for it, he felt hesitant to interact with Techno right now, which only solidified his resolve. He needed to talk to Phil and figure this entire thing out.

Which presented him with a new issue he previously had not put into consideration: XDs request.

“Do not search for him, do not hunt him down.” Fucking easy to say for a god that had not considered that Tommy already knows very clearly, where Dream resided and that that place was the house of TOMMY’S FAMILY. What did the god expect, for Tommy to stay away from his family infinitely just because they decided to play nurse for his arch nemesis?

Okay, he had not visited them in a year, but that had been due to circumstances out of the ordinary. It is not as if he usually stayed away for weeks-, or well, months at a time. And it’s not like he is going out of his way to find Dream, it just happens that he really needs to talk to Phil. In person preferably.

He would have asked him to meet up outside of the server, but since apparently Techno was on the Dream SMP of all places, Tommy bet that Phil was busy babysitting Dream. And Tommy really didn’t feel like waiting until Techno came back just so he could talk to Phil. He needed Phil’s help now, not in a week. (He is exaggerating, there is no way Techno would stay away from his weird, guilt motivated babysitting job for a whole week. Tommy knows him too well for that.) Still.

Tommy does not listen to anyone, not even god.

He does send a message to Phil announcing his arrival though. He is not a complete idiot.

Although he cannot help but feel like one, crouched in the bushes behind Phil’s house as he rifles through his inventory for something to use as a lock pick. Just because he didn’t want to take the front door, in case he runs into Dream again.

***

“Wow!” Punz exclaims, marvelling at the architecture of the Syndicates hideout. Techno can’t help but feel pride at the compliment, still happy with the results of their hard work. Their meeting room and the surrounding area had taken months of secret construction, but it had been worth it.

“And this has been here the entire time?” Punz asks, walking along the high walls and lava curtains. “Nobody even knew of the existence?”

“Well” Techno drawls, “We didn’t quite get to be active enough as a group to become known enough that someone would have tried to find our hideout. I had planned to ask them for help for the prison break, but it never came to that.” The mood sombers slightly, as he finishes his explanation, and Punz returns back to his side.

“Anyways!” Techno exclaims, and approaches the large table in the middle of the room. “It’s a goddamn shame” he says a little sadly, as his hands smooth over the surface of it. “All the trouble we went through for this.”

He takes a step back.

“But alas, this is the only way to get in contact with XD without the revival book.”

And with these words, he pulls out his axe in one smooth movement. He builds momentum, and in one powerful swing, the metal embeds in the wooden centre of the table. Or it would have, had Punz not surprised him for the second time that day.

“This is how you treat the table you begged me for?” a familiar voice calls, and a floating hand catches the axes blade before it makes impact. It dissolves immediately, and Techno whirls around, to find the god behind him, large form dissipating as it morphs into a smaller, more accommodating form. Punz stands close to a lava curtain, an ender chest at his feet, and seemingly not the least bit surprised by the progression of events.

“How?” Technoblade asks, but the god interjects before Punz can answer.

“It seems Dream wasn’t the only one with the revival book.”

***

Things had been going well. Dream had made a great recovery considering the state he had been in after the fight with Tommy. Phil was truly grateful for Punz’s presence and help. He couldn’t imagine that they would have been able to help Dream as quickly and efficiently without him here.

Dream had flourished under Punz’s care. He almost seemed reborn, brighter than before. He was more active and seemed more aware as well, and with the use of his communicator, he was more communicative than ever. He hadn’t been ecstatic when Punz had to leave with Techno, but he had taken it in stride, even if he has been sulking by the window ever since then. Phil had never expected to be so delighted about someone moping, but it was such a refreshing change to his apathetic state that he found himself not caring at all.

It also showed a nice step forward in regards to the scars that the prison trauma had left behind. They’ve been making progress. It was such a change in such short time, it felt like the fight with Tommy had never happened.

It was almost too good to be true.

Of course, this was when things had to go wrong. Again.

***

Punz had left him, but only for a bit. He had promised to be back soon, and he had explained that he could use his communicator to speak to him even when he wasn’t there. Dream trusted Punz, so he wasn’t too upset about staying alone for a while. He had stayed alone for much longer before, and yet it felt different this time.

It wasn’t as if he was struggling on his own, or as if he was completely alone, since Phil was still here. And yet he couldn’t help but look forward to Punz’s return. The outside didn’t look quite as inviting as it did when he was alone. Despite the sun shining warmly through the window he sat in front on, he couldn’t will himself to leave the safety of the house.

He didn’t go outside on his own anymore. He could never help the worry that ate away at him and kept him on look out. Approaching steps set him alert, and he needed to be in view of  the path ways at all times. He just didn’t feel safe anymore. With Punz there, he didn’t have to worry about any other unexpected guests. He could trust him to keep him safe without a doubt.

But Punz wasn’t here, so he stayed inside. By the window.

Phil was making soup, and Dream was actually looking forward to it. Recently, Punz had explained to him what “hunger” was, and why they always ate things. He had been completely flabbergasted at the knowledge. Who could have expected such a thing? It had taken a bit for him to draw the parallels, but now he understood why that one specific darkness had never come back after the prison. Turns out that the pain could be kept away just by eating soup! The darkness never had to come save him if the soup was protecting him already.

Ever since then, he didn’t protest the soup they brought him. He still wasn’t fond of the other foods they’d have him try. Most were too hard to eat, all the chewing was bothersome. He kept biting on his cheek and even his tongue. He didn’t like it, even if some of them smelled very nice. He preferred the soups, even if they had bits to chew in them. Usually they were soft enough to eat easily anyway.

Once, they had offered him something called “steak” but the smell alone had him gag. For some reason, the distinct scent of the charred meat sent chills down his spine. They hadn’t offered it again, and he was glad for it.

A familiar, delicious smell wafted towards him. Phil was stirring the pot carefully, while he read something on his communicator. His face was drawn tight, and he let go of the spoon to hurriedly tap away at the screen. Whatever was going on seemed to seemed to worry him, but no ping arrived on Dreams own communicator, so he decided not to worry about it too much. Punz had promised he would be fine, so he tried to worry a little less.

He wondered what soup Phil was making today, when a sudden sound from the back door distracted him. He perked up in excitement, was it Techno and Punz already? They had promised to be back soon, but he hadn’t realized it was this quick! Sure, it had felt like forever, but now it doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Phil stop and drop the spoon and hurry to the door with a curse. It’s a little silly, he thinks. Techno doesn’t need Phil to open the door, he has his own keys. Dream idly wonders for one moment, why they would use the backdoor instead of the front one. He would have waited over there had he known, and wouldn’t have to struggle getting there in his excitement.

The wonder doesn’t last however.

Because even with Phil and his large wings in the way, it is impossible to hide who steps through the backdoor when it swings open.

Blonde, messy curls appear over Phil’s shoulder as the person steps inside, despite Phil’s protests. The boisterous, but subdued greeting is cut short as Tommy’s gaze wanders into the room and meets Dreams eyes.

For one moment the world stands still.

And then…

It crashes.

***

This time, there is no slow adjustment, no underlying unease that gradually grows. No, this time, the panic slams into him in full force, sending him to the floor in a frenzied tumble.

Tommy is back. Tommy is back. Tommy is back. He is here, in the house, and he is alone. Punz isn’t here, he realizes with a start. Punz isn’t here, but Tommy is. His throat tightens. Phil turned around at the commotion, leaving Tommy in full view. He’s tall, taller than Phil, but from Dream’s position both of their figures loom over him like a monument of danger.

For a moment, it feels like their shadows are threatening to engulf him, whispering a dark promise of all his fears into his ears. It’s not their shadows however, but black spots that are flimmering in his view, and he can’t seem to focus, everything swims and swims and he can’t, he-

He can’t breathe. Distantly, he notices someone coming towards him, but he is incapable of reacting as his chest tightens more and more with every moment. He can’t breathe. His throat is closed and his chest hurts, he needs to breathe but everything hurts and he can’t do anything. He tries to move away from the person approaching him, but he can’t get up by himself and nothing is in reach.

The black gets worse, and then there is a hand on him and he recoils with lightning speed and slams into something. It hurts, but the impact shocks him enough to draw in a startled breath and suddenly, there is air inside him again. He gasps for more, his head swimming and every breath hurting but he breathes, he breathes, he is alive.

Now more aware, he realizes the person crouched in front of him is Phil. One of his hands still hovers, slightly outstretched from where he had tried to touch Dream. Tommy still stands behind the door, a slightly uncomfortable, yet thoughtful expression on his face. He hasn’t moved further into the room, which Dream appreciated, but he was more concerned that he was here, more importantly, still here.

Why?

What did he want? Did he decide to finish the job?

Phil moves into his field of view, and finally Dream remembers to focus on what he says.

“-mmy I think you need to leave.” His voice is apologetic, but firm. It surprises Dream, but it eases the knot in his chest. The tiniest, lightest flame of hope starts flickering within him. Maybe there is a space for him here, maybe he had been wrong, maybe it was safe to trust Phil and Techno.

“What? NO!” Tommy protests from where he had stayed, and he takes a step further into the room. Dream flinches back like he had been struck. “Listen, Phil, I’m not here for Dream, well, it is kinda about him but I want to talk to you, not him. I need to talk to you. You were the ones that told me to move on and find closure but it wasn’t that easy and everything is all a mess. I need your help, Phil to make things make sense again.” His voice has turned pleading, and Dream looks back to Phil.

“Not like this.” He refuses, and the hope in Dream grows, flickering warmly in his chest.

“Please, Phil.” Tommy pleads insistently. “I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important. Prime, God itself told me to stay away but I really need your help, Phil. I talked to God, I talked to XD, Phil. Fuck”

Dream freezes up at the mention of XD. Cold fear drags up his throat and he looks at Phil in a dizzying mixture of apprehension, of fear and hope and despair. He doesn’t dare to expect, but he wishes fervently for him to refuse again, hopes for it, but Phil hesitates. He thinks for a long moment, mulling over the things said. Then, he resignates, crumbling like a piece of bread in soup.

“Fine. I’m taking Dream to the room first. I don’t want a repeat of last time.” He sighs wearily, and the floor vanishes under Dream as he falls. Phil gets up, and gestures to the table, to the chair that bears Tommy’s signature. “Take a seat, I will be right back.”

And the flicker of hope is snuffed out.

He doesn’t have the presence of mind to move his body, much less protest, when Phil picks him up and carries him away. He doesn’t hear a single word that Phil speaks to him, everything drowned out by the chaos in his head.

Tommy is here. Phil didn’t send him away. Tommy scares him, Tommy hates him, but he is still here. Is allowed here. Is welcomed here. Is in Tommy’s chair. Not Dreams chair. Tommy’s chair. There is no chair that is Dreams. There is nothing that is his. This isn’t his home. He doesn’t belong. The pictures of Tommy on the wall. The traces he left all over the house, even when he isn’t here. There are no traces of Dream, because Dream doesn’t own anything.

He doesn’t even realize that he has been sat on the bed until the door clicks shut behind Phil, and Dreams head snaps up. Takes in the room he is in, has been in for a long time now. There isn’t much. There is the bed he sleeps in, there is a small table next to it and a chair, a chest at the end of the room. A window. On the chest sits a small basket with fabric scraps and bandages. On the table, a few of Techno’s books. A mug left behind by someone. Nothing alludes to the fact that Dream specifically has been staying here. The only signs of his presence are the cape and old hat that hangs on a hook by the window, and even those could easily belong to someone else. They do, in fact. Phil had made them from his own things.

Despite Dream being the one that slept and stayed in this room, there were more things that pointed at Techno and Phil than at him.

He didn’t belong. He was wrong here. He shouldn’t have hoped for something that wasn’t his, something he would never be granted.

Somewhere, deep within him, the realisation slowly, painfully slots into place. As if it was a truth he had known long before, he concedes his not-his-place to the rightful owner.

He slips off the bed and makes his way to the window. An eerie, serene silence has settled within him as he carefully takes step after step towards the window. It opens easily for him, despite the tremble in his bad hand. He drags the chair towards it and uses it to climb onto it. Although the motions are janky and clumsy, he instinctively knows where to reach and what to grab.

The fall is short, the impact shorter. Pain twinges up his right ankle, but it ebbs away soon enough. He doesn’t turn around as he heads for the forest. Although he knows he is making the right decision, he knows looking back won’t make it easier.  As he approaches the edge of the forest, Patches slips through the treeline and excitedly makes her way towards him.

She winds through his legs only for a moment, noticing the slight sway in his steps. As if she understands, she walks back to the trees, before stopping and looking back. Dream follows.

***

Of course this had to happen when Techno and Punz were gone. Phil sighs. At least this time around he knows not to let Dream in the same room with Tommy, unlike they had done last time. Although that might not yield any better results. Dream is already shaken enough just by Tommy’s appearance, well on his way into another meltdown. Phil just hopes that Punz can pull Dream out of it like last time.

Dream doesn’t resist or struggle when he picks him up to bring him to his room. Phil isn’t sure if he prefers this to a full on tantrum. There is something so disheartening to settle an unresponsive and shaken Dream into his bed and then just… leave him there. Even if it is easier than having to calm him down or restrain him to stop him from hurting himself. He doesn’t like it when all the life bleeds out of Dream like that.

But he is alone right now, and there is no one to help him with this, so he swallows down the unease and deals with it. Besides, it’s only for a bit. Techno and Punz will be back soon.

And Tommy had said something about XD. He might have valuable information. And he didn’t even react badly to Dream this time. So maybe they were making more progress than expected.

He walks back down the stairs and heads to the sitting area. Surprisingly, Tommy isn’t seated at the table though, and instead stands in the kitchen, surrounded by plumes of smoke, trying and failing to open the window.

Ah. Right. The soup.

With a curse, Phil dashes for the oven to pull the pot of the stove and dunks it in the metal sink. Then, he helps Tommy with the windows to clear the air of the smoke and biting smell of burnt food.

Looking at the charred remains at the bottom of the pot, once the wasted soup had been poured out, Phil decides that his lunch plans are thoroughly ruined. He has no further produce or other ingredients in the house, the soup had been intended to use up the leftovers before he filled up their storage with fresh produce later that afternoon.

Thankfully, they have had a good breakfast not too long ago, so Dream won’t go hungry for a while longer. Although Phil isn’t sure if Dream would have even be able to eat right now anyways. So instead of sitting down at the table with Tommy to discuss his troubles, they both head out to the gardens to stock up the storage while they talk.

They talk for a long time while they work. Soon, the sun starts to go down, and they head back inside to finally prepare dinner. Storing away the new produce takes time, as does cleaning, preparing and cooking. By the time dinner is finished, night has already fallen. Phil offers Tommy to stay for dinner before leaving, and Tommy accepts gratefully.

When Phil takes a bowl of soup up for Dream, he prepares himself to take it back down in case Dream has gone fully apathetic again. But he still hopes that maybe Dream will eat something anyways. He had been very diligent in eating his meals lately, even if he was still obviously picky in food choices.

He knocks on the door, just to announce his arrival before he steps in, eyes focused on the bowl as to not spill anything. He is in the middle of describing the soup when he has sat it down securely on the table next to the bed, when he looks up at Dream.

But the bed is empty. And even before he checks the corner to see if Dream has just hidden himself away again, an uneasy, tight feeling rises in his gut. The corner is empty. The window is open.

He doesn’t call for Dream. He doesn’t run. He doesn’t search the house. All that comes later.

He reaches for his communicator instead.

***

He doesn’t know how long he has been walking. He knows he left around midday, when the sun had been high in the sky and lent warmth even through the thick roof of leaves above him. He had walked, following patches at a steady pace, fuelled by the immense need to get away. He couldn’t stay, so all that was left was to leave.

Although his mind was in turmoil, and unease was rolling off his inner guide in waves, the persistent ache in his foot kept him in the present. With every step, a little twinge zips through his leg, keeping him focused and unable to drift off. He couldn’t afford to have a “meltdown”, so he pushed Tommy’s words far, far away, and continued on the path that Patches presented him.

As the light had started to dim and the sun prepared to disappear, Patches had led him to a little cave, carved out of a rocky cliff and with a vine covered entrance hidden from sight through bushes and trees. A rest was dire needed, so Dream didn’t even try to keep going instead. His leg was hurting in a steady pulse, but even aside from that his body was aching. His breath had been evading him for a bit now, and his skin was clam with sweat, even if the forest had cooled down considerably.

Exhausted, he had fallen asleep before the sun had even reached the horizon. Even though he had slept on a soft bed for so long now, it wasn’t hard in the slightest to fall asleep on the hard stone floor. The cold was much worse than the hardness of the floor, but Patches had curled up next to him and warmed him until the shivering had subsided.

Still, it had been dark outside when he awoke. For a moment he didn’t realize what had disturbed his rest. Sleep was still clinging to him, and it took a bit to reorient himself and remember what had happened. The floor was hard, and he was freezing. His stomach pulled in an old familiar, but not recent sensation. His body ached. The sky grumbled in the distance.

It was Patches hissing, that pulled him to awareness.

The cat stood in between him and the opening of the cave. It was hard to see in the dark, but hidden in the green of the plants that guarded the entrance was… something. A being, almost as tall as him blended almost perfectly into the greenery around them. It seemed distracted by the cat, watching it warily.

Dream sat up to get a better look, unease slowly building inside him. However his movement alerted the creature, and although it was dark, Dream realized that its attention shifted to him. A soft hissing sounded, and it took him only a second to understand that it wasn’t Patches who made that sound.

The creature emitted a slight, pulsating glow as it tried to advance, but Patches hissed loudly, calling attention towards her again, and it backed off slightly again. Dream was at a loss. He didn’t know what that thing was, and yet it caused a deeply unsettling feeling within him. Much more than just a general sense of danger, he felt a deep apprehension, a fear almost of not complying, of setting it off.

His limbs felt like lead, and jittering anxiety washed at his mind. Something was familiar about this. Something that made him distinctly aware of his position, and the wrongness of it. Like lava, his limbs burned, telling him to move, to get in the correct position or else. ‘on your knees on your knees on your knees’ his guide called, and ‘head down, head down, don’t look, don’t look, don’t speak unless spoken to’.

He didn’t understand, but he also couldn’t tear his eyes away from the creature. It didn’t leave, despite Patches best efforts, and Dream didn’t know what to do. His mind told him to move and look away, but he couldn’t help but feel like staying still and keeping watch was the correct answer.

He didn’t get to ponder his decision for long.

*

The time between a flash of lightning and the thunder can determine how far away the storm is. In this case, the thunder only took 4seconds. And yet, many things happened within these few moments.

Lightning flashes outside, and illuminates the beasts features.

One.

Dream flinches back in horror.

Two.

The beast lunges.

Three.

Patches cries out.

Four.

Thunder strikes, and with it, an explosion.

***

Phil: Come back immediately.

Phil: Dream is gone

When the message had flashed on Techno’s screen, it felt like all of the lava in the room had been drained and replaced by ice instead. “Punz.” His voice had been tight, worry strangling his vocal chords as the voices has exploded into a cacophony of chaos.

Punz had looked at him, and understood immediately.

Gracefully, XD had come to their aid and led them into a server jump without the need to head back to the spawn or the server hub. They had been able to make it back in record time, but they still missed Phil who had already headed out to search. For good reasons too, as night had already fallen, and thunderclouds rolled across the sky.

They didn’t need to meet up to make a plan. It was simple: Swarm out, find Dream before something else does.

They didn’t bother staying together, instead taking off in different directions to cover more ground. Phil had already went into the forest, but behind the house was only the mountain, where Dream couldn’t have gone, and in front endless grassland stretched out. Punz took to the Grassland, intending to use his trident once the rain fell to search more quickly, while Techno took to the vast forest as well.

It was a run against the clock, and they couldn’t afford any delaying.

***

The night is dark. Huge, grey clouds have pulled themselves in front of the moon, like dark velvet curtains. Even the stars seem to have vanished under the force of the storm. The only source of light comes in the form of lightning flashes as thunder rolls threateningly.

Dream is running. His heart is beating out of his chest and his lungs constrict but he doesn’t slow down. All around him, he can hear scattering footsteps, chattering and whispering and hissing. Eyes flash in the dark wherever he looks. In his arms, clutched to his chest, he holds patches. He can feel her little claws dig into his skin, but he pays it no mind. Her fur is singed much like his clothes, and she meows weakly, in between licks to his exposed skin.

There are tears running down his face, but it makes no difference. At some point, rain had set in, and his body is already soaked to the bone. He doesn’t mind the wetness, it washes the blood off his skin, but it makes the ground slippery and so much harder to traverse on top of his already injured leg.

But he keeps on. He cannot afford to slow down. An arrow whizzes past him and embeds itself into a tree trunk with enough force for some of the bark to splinter off. It startles him, almost more than the face of the green creature had. Impossibly, his urgency rises and he leaves the path to run through the thicket in hopes of shaking them off. He has nothing to defend himself with, but there is this quiet, insane part of his mind that believes he can outrun them. Even injured and defenceless, it whispers of his success as long as he keeps running.

He does.

Until the forest lightens, and the end of it is in sight.

He doesn’t know what comes after, but it feels like hope.

He makes it to the edge of the forest, stumbling past the treeline, and out of it into a field of grass. The ground is gently sloped, tapering off from the higher situated forest. A body of water sits at the bottom of the incline, a wide, winding stream separating the grass land from a mushroom biome. Dream picks up speed, sure that if he can make it across the stream they will be safe.

Outside of the protective canopy of the trees, the rain hits even heavier, and the grass is wet and slippery. Although more beasts hide in the woods, out here in the open he poses an easier target.

Another arrow whizzes past, followed my two more in short succession. He throws a short glance back, and sees three skeletal beings in his pursuit. Dread pulls tight around his throat and he tries to speed up, but his foot gets caught on a rock and he falls forward. He barely catches himself on his knees and his bad hand, the other one still cradled securely around the cat.

Blinding pain shoots through his arm, and a sob tumbles past his lips. An arrow buries itself into the ground right in front of him, so he gets up as fast as he can, despite the pain throbbing in his limbs. He lost valuable time, so he doesn’t try to look back again, instead trying to gain ground again.

But it is to no avail. This world is unfamiliar to him, and it doesn’t love him the way his one had. It doesn’t grant him mercy, and it doesn’t come to his aid. Luck isn’t an endless resource and his has run out.

An arrow finds its mark.

It pierces his shoulder, chipped, but wickedly sharp bone digging into muscle and flesh, unhindered by the cloth that had long burned away. An anguished cry leaves Dreams lips, but he keeps on running. The view sways, but he is honed in on his goal. It’s not much further, just a bit more, just across the slight incline ahead and he’ll reach the bottom of the hill, and with it, the water.

Unable to see from his position, a ravine snakes its way through the grassy hillside. It’s not large, not wide in any way. Had he known of its existence, or had he been able to see it before, he could have made it across in a daring, but by no means impossible jump. Even in his current condition he could have made it.

But luck is no longer on his side.

Another arrow hits.

It digs into his calf, and this time, he cannot fight back the fall. He crashes to the ground, momentum carrying him forwards, over the slight incline and then-

down.

He plummets into the ravine, unable to do anything but clutch Patches to his chest to protect her from the impact that surely awaits them at the bottom.

But he never reaches it. He hits a protruding rock, and it slows his momentum enough that his fall is broken by vines and remnants of a mine track that once bridged two mine tunnels on each sides of the ravine. His body comes to a standstill in a bloodied, broken heap, balanced precariously on old, brittle wood and splintered metal over a drop of dozens of chunks.

With the last of his strength, he raises the arm that carries the attached communicator to the hand that has protected patches from the fall. He barely manages to type just a few letters, before black falls over his eyes and his hand drops limply to the side.

If it was Luck or Mercy who bestowed him one last favour is unclear, but his arm falls just right for a piece of metal to hit the small send button on the side of the device. Unfortunately, when Dream had selected the recipient of the message, in his agony, he hadn’t picked Punz as it had been intended, but the next entry on the list of priority contacts.

Dream (whispers to Sapnap): hhel p

Outside, the storm rages on until the night overcomes its darkest hours and turns to dawn. Once the sun rises, the last storm clouds will slowly disperse, and with it the mobs. But until then, the darkness rules. The mobs slowly grow disinterested at the disappearance of their prey and return to the cover of the forest. Silence settles over the meadow like a heavy blanket, broken only by the distant, anguished yowls of a cat.

***

Barely half an hour into their search rain had started to come down. Now able to use his trident, Punz had made great progress on his search, but outside of stray mobs he had been unable to find anything. He tried his hardest to stay calm and level-headed, but inside, a storm was brewing that rivalled the one currently wreaking havoc on the server.

There had been no progress, no sign of Dream until multiple hours into the search. Phil had sent coordinates from the forest. Apparently he had found a creeper hole, which by itself wasn’t anything special, but it had been on the entrance of a cave. Inside the cave, protected from the rainfall, a bloody handprint was left behind, as well as singed scraps of the clothes that Dream had been wearing.

Unfortunately the rain had washed away any foot prints or blood trails, but Dreams flight from the mobs had left other traces. Split and broken off twigs, disturbed ground and plants. The mobs on his trail had left more traces as well, the most noticeable ones the arrows stuck to trees and the ground.

Now that they had finally found a lead, Punz abandoned the search of the grassland and hurtled towards the coordinates. He had gotten far enough out with his trident that he had to head back somewhat. Flying a half circle around the forest borders, Punz intended to check the surrounding areas of the direction Dream headed. Phil was following the track and Techno was making his way there, but the mobs that littered the forest slowed them down.

There was no death message in the server logs, which meant that he was still alive and must have gotten away from the mobs somehow. And Punz intended to keep it that way. It wasn’t long until dawn now, and with it, the mobs would be gone and Dream would be safe. He just had to hold on a little longer. Just a little more.

Suddenly, he spotted a mushroom biome up ahead. It was well within the area that Dream could have reached on his course from the forest, and mushroom biomes were notoriously clear of mobs. Had this been what saved Dream?

He notified Phil and Techno, and headed for it. If Dream had made it here, he was safe. He just needed to find him now. Thankfully, the tall mushrooms didn’t obscure his flight too much, which allowed him to keep using the trident. He didn’t want to fly too high above, in fear of missing Dream under some of the wide mushroom caps. He searched diligently, but as dawn approached, he still hadn’t been able to find Dream, nor had Phil or Techno.

He found himself back at the beginning of the mushroom biome, in a stretch of grassland. The rain was starting to let off, so his trident would soon be useless anyways, so he decided to head for the forest. Maybe he could work his way towards Phil and Techno and meet in the middle.

However, when he made his way across the meadow, a group of skeleton took notice of him. Evading one or even two skeletons was no problem, even without a shield, but a group of them scattered across the area made it almost impossible. He couldn’t risk injury either, as he had a much more important mission at hand.

Cursing at the time lost, he sprinted towards a little overhang in the hill to duck behind. Once he got to the forest he could hide behind the trees, but out here he was a free target. He just needed to get away from the skeletons, or wait until the sun came up. To his surprise, the overhang sheltered a fissure in the ground that led into a ravine underground. Carefully, he balanced beside it, as to not lose his balance and fall. Although he might be able to mine his way below the skeletons through the ravine, he didn’t want to be too hasty with his decision making.

But as he crouched there with bated breath, calculating his next move, he noticed a peculiar sound. At first, he struggled to make sense of it. Quiet, distant cries, almost like a crying child if not for the animalistic of it. ‘Cat’ his mind supplied, ‘distressed. Probably fell into the ravine and can’t get out’.

Now, it wasn’t like he hated animals. The opposite, he was quite fond of them. But he was also under a lot of stress, and trying to save Dream, so it wasn’t really like he had the time to save a cat right now. But then he remembered Dream playing with Patches, and how fond he was of cats in general.

‘It’s just so the crying won’t give my position away.’ He reasoned with himself as he carefully climbed down the ravine. ‘Going through the ravine is probably the quickest way to get to the forest anyways.’

Once he made it to a somewhat secure platform, he took a look around to orient himself and find the cat, as well as the most beneficial way to mine towards  the forest. He quickly realizes two things.

One: that it wasn’t a ravine, but most likely an old mine that had been half unearthed by an earthquake. An old mineshaft opens up in one wall, leading towards the forest, perfect for his plan.

And Two: his plan is useless and no longer important because right there, on the old tracks connecting the tunnel lies Dream, and with him the cat he had heard earlier.

With shaking hands, he pulls up his communicator to send his coordinates to Phil and Techno, and then he bolts. Or at least, he tried to. The mine was in terrible condition due to the rupture, and everything was rather unstable. Agonizingly slow, he had to dig his way towards Dream, who was suspended on rickety railway tracks above a steep drop.

As he gets closer, he notices that Dream is unconscious and in quite frankly horrific shape. His frame is bloodied and broken, the clothes ripped apart and burned. An arrow is sticking out from mangled leg. Fear freezes him in place, and he has to remind himself that Dream is alive, he’s alive, there was no death message (yet, he doesn’t say.).

His chest is rising and falling almost imperceptibly, was it not for the cat curled up and held to his chest by his arm. She mews pitifully in between little licks to the exposed chest, likely exhausted after hours of calling for help. Her fur is singed and matted with blood, but still, Punz recognizes her.

It’s Patches. His heart seizes and his voice comes out a little broken as he whispers praises to her, thanks her for protecting Dream. It’s a cat, just a cat, and yet he chokes up at the realisation that she has stuck with Dream, has protected him, has cared for him, simply out of love. There are no ulterior motives here, no lies, no deceit, no pretending. No guilt, no regret, no obligation or duty. Just trust and love, just care for Dream as a person.

It’s this revelation that finally tips him over, and the tears begin to flow. It may be stupid to others, but for years, so many years Punz has been the only one that had thought of Dream fondly, with care and affection. Even back in the server, he had to lie and pretend, had to spend time surrounded by people that hated Dreams guts and he had never been able to speak up. He had to betray Dream for these people, and even if it had been staged, it had been real to all those people. It had bitten at him, to be known as the person that betrayed Dream, and not the one that had been loyal all this time.

He just wanted to be able to be his friend everywhere, not just behind closed doors. He wanted to be able to smile and laugh with him, out in the open. He wanted to be able to defend him against others, to protect him. He wanted to be able to wear their friendship proudly, openly, wanted it to be known and recognizable as a part of him just like his signature white hoodie and gold chain.

So he sits there and cries, for Dream who has been hurt and hurt again, who has spent years feeling unloved and forgotten. He cries for hours, days, months spent searching for any possible clue to find him, when he had been locked away right under his nose. He cries for Dream, who lies unreachable on fragile wood and metal, bloodied and broken, so near and yet so far.

And he cries for the overwhelming relief of no longer being the only one to love and care for Dream unconditionally, even in danger.

Outside, the sun finally rises. The mobs dissolve with unholy screeching and wails, as the morning light reaches them. Three people stumble out of the forest, ignoring the burning monster corpses that litter their way. They’ll get down into the ravine, and they’ll carefully construct a scaffold to hold up the railway bridge. Punz won’t be happy to see Tommy with them, but he’ll hold back, as long as they’ll get Dream to safety first.

He won’t leave Dreams bedside until he wakes up. Neither does Patches.

When Dream wakes up, he cries.

And Punz makes a decision.

***

“Let me take him with me.” It hadn’t really been a question, nor had it been an offer, and Techno knew that. Still, something in him wanted to refuse. Punz wouldn’t be able to take Dream by force, if Techno wanted to, he could very well just keep Dream here. ‘It’s for his safety’ his mind whispers, ‘we’re strong enough to keep him safe, nothing can hurt him here.’

But he just needs to look at Dreams battered, bruised body to know that it isn’t true. To know that it wouldn’t be fair.

It doesn’t matter if he thought he could keep Dream safe from physical harm, if they had caused him enough mental pain that he hurt himself. Granted, it probably hadn’t been Dreams intention to get hurt when he had... run away.

But wasn’t that the crux of the issue? Tommy’s appearance had stressed him out enough to have him run away and get severely hurt. And Tommy hadn’t even been hostile to him, nor would he be in the near future, as it seemed. And yet it didn’t seem to matter, as his mere presence caused severe distress for Dream.

Of course, the obvious choice would be to just.... keep Tommy away. Punz had been advocating for that one quite clearly, adamantly refusing to let Tommy take a single step into Dreams room.

“Get away from him!” Punz’s voice is fire, unrestrained in anger as he blocks the doorway from Tommy, who holds a tray of something.

“Woah calm down man, I was literally just helpi-“

“I. Do. Not. Care. One step closer and you’ll be crying for help yourself.”Punz bites, cold fury dripping from every word as his hands itch for a weapon. Oh how much he hated Tommy, hated that he was able to hurt Dream even when he didn’t intend to.

“I don’t want you near him, ever again. Don’t look for him, Don’t look at him. Don’t speak to him.”

A short pause.

“You have no right to be near him.”

And yet.... Techno didn’t want to deny Tommy and Wilbur entry to the server. They were family, not just to Phil but to him as well. Even if they didn’t live here, this place was home, was a safe haven for them. He didn’t want to take this from any of them.

And Dream... he had barely been someone he could have called a friend, had they had more time. He was much more a friendly rival, someone who had helped him out. But that person didn’t even exist anymore. Although that had been partially his own fault, he couldn’t help but mourn the loss of something he hadn’t been able to achieve. Now that he knew that Dreams amnesia wasn’t randomly caused, but granted. Dream didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to go back. Techno couldn’t fault him for that, not after the torture he had endured. So he mourned silently, as he looked at Dream with different eyes.

A broken, battered shell that housed a soul of incredible wit and talent, but it was chained away under trauma and pain. That rival that he had appreciated for his prowess would never return. Even if Dream remembered, his body was simply unable to hold up.

This new Dream was skittish, albeit curious, and in all honesty, fragile.

Keeping him here just to alleviate his guilt over his broken promise wasn’t fair, when he couldn’t even ensure that he wouldn’t run into what frightens him. He knows that he can’t have both. And yet, he is still reluctant to let go, feels the failure of his promise clawing at the edges of his mind.

But Punz stands strong and doesn’t give up. After all, if anyone would understand Techno’s guilt, it is Punz.

 “Don’t worry Technoblade. You part of the plan was just to get him out. You did that, even if it was delayed, and you even went beyond it. Now let me fulfil my part.” His voice is gentle, but firm. His decision is clear, and they both know it is the right one.

“I’ve been waiting for a long while, Techno. I’ll take it from here.”

*

“You sure about this, mate?” Phil asks, leaned next to the doorframe as Punz and Dream walk down the pathway. Once Techno had agreed, Punz hadn’t wasted much time to prepare for their departure. Although there hadn’t been many things to pack in the first place.

“It’s better for Dream. And for Tommy as well, probably. It would be selfish to keep him here just to alleviate my own guilt.” Techno mutters thoughtfully. The guilt still lingers, he knows it likely won’t ever leave fully. But he has come to terms that he has done what he could, and that he was no longer neither the safest, nor the best option for Dream.

It had been evident simply in Dreams reaction to Punz’s offer. He didn’t need to speak to make the sheer relief and gratefulness evident. It couldn’t have been clearer, even if he had shouted it from the rooftops. It was what assured Techno of the rightness of his choice.

And as they watch them leave, Techno bids a goodbye not just to this Dream, but to the old one as well. Once again, it is time to move on, but this time, he does it with a lighter heart, knowing he has done what he could and relieved of the uncertainty of Dreams wellbeing.

***

Some time in the future

“Are you ready?” Punz asks, petting Patches who wanders over his workbench, and it truly is that, just a question. No worry, no distrust, no uncertainty. Just unhindered loyalty, ready to follow wherever Dream leads them.

‘Yes’ Dream signs, and breathes deeply as Punz leads them into a server jump. There is no need for any further explanations. They had worked towards this for a long time. Gone is the soul crushing fear, gone is the paranoia simply at the notion of it. What had settled in its place was longing.

When they spawn, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings outside of a vague sense of familiarity. Soon, that will change, as he’ll once again be able to attach years of history to every place. He idly wonders if it’ll change how he views them now, and shakes his head at the naivety of the idea. In the end, it doesn’t quite matter anyway. Punz had told him everything he had asked for. He knew of the horrors that had happened here, all that he was missing was his own view of it.

But that wasn’t why he was here, not really.

Although Punz had never once pushed, not even asked or tried to trigger any of his old memories, Dream knew that there were years worth of experiences locked away inside his mind. Punz had always been courteous, and nothing but inexplicably loyal and supportive towards him. But Dream yearned to truly know their full story. He wants to understand where their bond had started, how it had developed, how it had been able to stay strong all these years.

He wants to share their full history, in more than just tales he had memorized.

He wanted to remember them.

He wanted to remember.

He was ready.

***

The End