Work Text:
For six months glistening obsidian walls and an emanating, hot, lava door was all that Dream had known. In his worst moments he'd watch the light that reflected off the lava bounce against the grooves and cracks that reflected like glass against the floor. His mind entranced at the dance the light played, telling an unreadable story to a man who had not much left.
Sometimes the floor would give the illusion that if he gave it just once punch it would crack, but he knew better. He had designed this prison with Sam and he knew it was inescapable. He had never thought that someone as intelligent, and as calculating as Technoblade would even think of such an elementary idea as mining with their bare hands for hours upon hours. Together the two had spent days on end breaking through the solid blocks. The sharpness of the obsidian had left deep cuts and bruises scattered all over their hands, the deepest of which were wrapped up in an attempt at first aid. Together, the two strongest members of the entire SMP, clawed humbly at obsidian together with hands covered in bloodsoaked wraps and sweat drenching their hair.
After hours, days, maybe even weeks, of digging through the impenetrable walls of Pandora’s Box the two men were beyond relieved to see the deep blue water of the ocean the prison floated above, now flowing freely below them. Instantly the smell of salt filled Dream’s nostrils, the smell overbearing after months of savoring the scent of clean hot stone, leaving his senses sterilized. Dream knew that he used to love the smell of the ocean, the freshness of the air and tranquility of the water, but as much as he wanted to remember, this scent was new to him.
With a nudge, Technoblade ushers Dream to jump into the water. He nods, prompting Techno to jump first. Once Techno has swum away from the drop, taking in a deep breath, Dream jumps.
At the contact with the water Dream’s breath is knocked right out of him. The shock from the cool liquid surrounding him puts his brain into overdrive. The sensation of being submerged in water is so nice it hurts . At the impact he accidentally opened his mouth and let some of the water in. He coughs, trying to push it out, but instead more water flows in. Before he begins his rush to the surface he pauses for a moment, taking the time to appreciate how his body feels weightless in the water. His long, darkened hair floats around him like a feather, moving with his head as he turns in the water. Dream’s clothes flow around his body, his shirt moving up and down as it flows with his movement. His arms push through the waves, the thickness of the water unfamiliar to his weakened muscles. It takes him longer than he thought it would to reach the surface, his brain going numb and lungs strained as he barely makes it to the surface in time. He opens his mouth to breathe the instant his head breaks the surface, causing more water from his splashing to rush in. At the panic his reflexes kick in and he begins to calm himself down. Trying his best to keep his head above the water his legs kick underneath the waves, the activity a foreign feeling.
Once his coughing stops he opens his eyes to take a look at his surroundings. They're directly underneath the prison, light from the edges barely filtering through leaving the orange glow from the hole they dug as their main light source. Dream turns to look at Technoblade who was waiting for his companion to steady himself. Techno nods, silently signifying that it's time to move on. Taking in a deep breath Techno dives back into the ocean, Dream following in suit. Together the two men swim their way towards the nearby beach, Dream much slower in his movement and falling behind as he continuously stops to swim back up to the surface to take in another breath.
By the time he reaches the shallows Techno stops in the knee-level water to wait for the man behind him. It's in this moment of stillness that Technoblade notices that the water that's dripping down his face is still gathering, the light rain accumulating on his cheeks and flowing to his chin. As Dream makes his way Techno grabs his arm and helps lead them up the beach. Techno is shocked to hear Dream’s hushed panting, the thought of the all powerful Dream in a weakened state was something he never thought he’d hear. Once the water is ankle deep Techno lets go of Dream and walks himself up the beach. When Technoblade’s feet hit grass he turns around to see Dream crawling in the sand.
Dream's eyes are downcast, full of shame and humility, as he makes his way through the sand. The muscles in his arms and legs weakened from months of lack of use. He's covered in sand, the tiny particles sticking to his wet arms and clothes. Once he reaches the grass beyond the beach he takes several moments of deep breathing to steady himself. He takes in a breath, head tilting slightly upwards towards the horizon, feeling the rain fall down the back of his head through his hair and flowing through the ridges of his face. He looks back down at the ground and with a shaky breath he moves his hands to the ground and begins to lift himself up. He raises his torso up and lifts his hand with his knee to balance himself. Then, with shaky arms and legs, Dream places his hands on his right knee and uses the last of his strength to shift his weight from his knees to his feet and stands up.
Releasing a deep sigh, Dream tilts his head to the sky. The light rain has turned into a soft drizzle, gently spraying his face. He continues to stare upwards, eyes squinting slightly as the sunlight filters through the gray clouds above. He continues to stare at the light, feeling a sense of relief as he watches the light break through the dark storm clouds like a light at the end of a tunnel. It makes the area around the sunlight glow with a golden white light, contrasting against the rest of the sky, as if the sun has waited six months to gift the server with its light.
Embracing the warmth, Dream opens his arms and palms out. Light finds its way to land on his open skin and the rain drips down, pooling at his palms and falling from his fingertips. It's a moment of pure ecstasy, of letting light and rain wash away the past six months of confinement.
After gathering his bearings Technoblade watched silently as Dream took in his surroundings. It was shocking to watch the former warrior look so humble, so weak. It reminded Techno of the earlier days of the SMP, he’d heard the stories of what the server had been like before it had become a battle ground. It reminded him of the early morning sunlight gleaming off the lake beside the quaint houses of L’Manburg. Before he destroyed it, of course.
There was something that was so delicate with Dream. It seemed like each breath he took was savored as if it would be his last.
Dream opened his eyes and released a deep breath. He brings his hands up to his face and presses his palms into his eyes and runs them down his face, pushing all the droplets of water that have gathered down his face. He then slicks his hair back, which had grown considerably since his time in prison. His long hair stuck to his scalp, damp from their escape under the prison. A few of the strands fall from the rest of the group and fall in front of his eyes. As he looks ahead, staring beyond the shoreline, the strands unfocus in his vision.
Before them the shoreline transitions into a small, lush tropical biome that presents itself as a beautiful background for a deadly prison. Following his line of eyesight, Dream begins to trudge out of the sand and walk into the grass at the treeline.
He pauses only for a moment when his feet hit the transition from sand to grass. After months of endless pacing on sharp obsidian the lush grass feels so foreign that it feels like knives to his skin. Each individual blade cuts through the skin, the sensory feeling as if it's sharp enough to draw blood. Dream knows it's supposed to feel soft. Memories of the time before the wars come to mind. On a beautiful day just like this one, he recalls the many evenings he and George would sit atop the hills and look towards the future. He can only remember this day like a hazy dream, a time that is lost and unable to be recovered.
Dream continues to push forward until he's close enough to the trees to stand under the protection of their shade. Water stops flowing down his face and sunlight no longer gleams off the beads of rain that had collected on his skin. He walks further and stops where he's close enough to the nearest tree and raises a shaky hand upwards. He places the base of his palm against the tree trunk and takes in a breath once again, slightly tilting his head upwards in response.
For a long moment, Dream just stands there with his hand pressed against the tree bark of the jungle tree. He slowly drags his fingers across the grooves and knicks, admiring the texture. He gets lost in the inconsistency, appreciative of each of the individual pieces that make up the bark. The rough texture sends needles into his nerves, the feeling yet another thing that had been robbed from him for six months.
Dream moves on from the trunk and begins to stare at the leaves. Surrounding him are many plants of varying shapes, colors, and sizes, each one a work of art. He stares at each one as if it's a living, breathing painting; taking in everything from the way the breeze blows through and bends each one to the texture that defines each one. He walks away from the tree and reaches his hand towards one of the lower leaves of the vines that hang below the branches. Dream intertwines his fingers with the stem of the vines and lets his fingers get caught on the leaves and pulls his hand through, gentle as not to tear any of the leaves off. As his line of sight moves downwards a section of tall grass with purple flowers catches his eye.
He moves to crouch down and groans at the pain that ignites in the muscles of his calves. Being stuck in an obsidian box had not been good for his health. He reaches the ground level and grabs one of the purple flowers with his hand. He gently strokes the petals with his thumb and breathes in the smooth, soft texture. He looks at the flower with adornment shining in the sparkle of his eyes. A small flower, so fragile; it’s existence solely extended by the complete control of the beholder.
As Dream continues to stroke the flower he's shocked when a butterfly lands on his finger. His jaw goes slack, lips parting as he takes in a sharp inhale. On his finger rests a beautiful blue monarch, perched happily as its wings flap gently. Dream can only stare as he takes in all it’s small features. Almost as if the wings had been painted to perfection, the shift in heus catching in his eye. He leans in slightly to get a closer look and blinks when the butterfly flaps its wings. He feels the tingle from its little legs walking along his finger and feels the breeze from its movement; and then a drop of water hits his foot and time stops.
Dream slowly raises his free hand to touch his cheek and gently presses the tips of his fingers beneath his eye gently, as if the slightest pressure might make his skin crack. He freezes when he comes into contact with water; tears are running down his cheek.
All of a sudden he gets a rush of emotions. The weight of the last six months finally dropped on him, feeling everything from massive relief to blind rage. It burns through his heart and fills his lungs, the raw emotions finally getting their release.
Unbeknownst to Dream, his breathing picks up into a sharp inhale and exhale. His bottom lip trembles as his mind goes into overdrive. He moves his hand down to cup his mouth and only trembles more as he feels the coolness of the tears pressed into his skin; except now the tremors have traveled to the rest of his body. He can feel his lungs grow heavy with lead and fire tear at his throat. The feeling spreads to his shoulders and he can feel them shaking up and down without his consent, fear and pain being spoken without a sound.
Everything builds up inside him and it's all too much. With the butterfly still resting on his free hand, he moves his other hand to grab his wrist to steady himself and then-
Dream sobs.
His eyes squeeze shut in pain, and his lungs open and close without his consent. The breaths become short and painful, each one tearing at his insides. His shoulders shake up and down vehemently in a way he's neve experienced before. He slowly shakes his head in disbelief and his mouth opens and he lets out a silent scream. At this point he's struggling to breathe and he looks upwards to try and breathe in any of the air that surrounds him.
A strong wave of pain washes over him as his sobs pick up in intensity. With his hand still resting on his arm he doubles over as the tears flow faster. He can feel the blood pump in the veins beneath his skin and he hates it. He hates every ounce of weakness that he's showing; be it the lack of control over his own bodily functions or the raw emotions he's admitting to the man who threatens his stance of power.
But then, like the flip of a switch, Dream stops. At his command the tears stop falling and his shoulders stop shaking.
He breathes in, and out.
In. And out.
With eyes focused and eyebrows narrowed, Dream lifts his head. Looking at the butterfly once more he flicks his wrist harshly with a scowl as his fingers twitch against the feeling of the flap of its wings as it flees.
With both of his hands free he raises them to wipe the tears away and stands up once more; this time, however, he is much more steady on his feet. Any inkling of weakness shoved away and replaced with determination.
He turns around and stares at Technoblade. His eyes sharp, and face drawn in seriousness. His head is tilted downwards and he once again holds a stance of power.
Throughout Dream’s whole moment at the shoreline Techno stayed silent. He remained quiet and merely watched as the man who he once called his fiercest competition had a mental breakdown. Every move Dream had made was captivating, from his crawl in the sand to the stroke of the tree trunk, he could only imagine what it would feel like to be isolated from everything the world had to offer for so long. He never considered these things to be a privilege, to Techno they were merely just stupid plants and would not miss them if they were to one day disappear, but Dreams actions made him reconsider.
What if it had been Techno that was locked in prison for six months. Would he have a similar reaction? Would he be so humble to every element of nature that surrounded him? So weak?
Technoblade looked down at the ground beneath his feet and shifted them to move the sand that pressed against his skin. He tries to mimic Dream and he focuses on their feeling, each grain of sand making its presence known to his nerves. But Techno loses focus when he hears sobs emanating from the man in the treeline in front of him.
Technoblade’s eyes go wide, his eyebrows raised, as he witnesses Dream cry. He watches as Dream, the all powerful war criminal mastermind, sobs. For just the slimmest moment, the strings in Techno’s heart ache at the sight before him. He can't imagine what it would feel like to lose everything that he had worked for, everything he fought for, and be locked in a box for months on end where he loses his touch with his senses.
But then the strangest thing happens when suddenly Dream goes quiet. Techno’s eyebrows narrow and his head tilts in confusion as he watches the man go eerily still. He continues to stare frozen in place as Dream stands up but quickly wipes any emotion from his face before Dream turns around to see it. He tilts his head upwards in indignation and narrows his eyes as if he's about to face an opponent. With his eyes trained on Dream he notices the slightly red puffiness beneath his eyes, indicating that the man had actually cried right in front of him, showing the ultimate tell of weakness.
Dream strengthens his pose and walks over back to the beach to face Technoblade once more. Dream sizes up and shows the strength that Techno had doubted he still had moments earlier.
No emotions, no weakness, same old Dream .
Dream looks to the side, back at prison, and bites his lip nervously before speaking up, “I wanted to thank you for returning the favor.”
Techno merely raises his head in acknowledgement, prompting Dream to continue.
Dream only continues to stare at Techno, not breaking their eye contact, and continues, “It's not like you had much of a choice, but the gesture is still appreciated.”
“My debt is paid, Dream. I now owe you nothing.” And with that, Techno begins to walk away but is struck back when he hears Dream call out to him, “Techno, wait.”
Techno turns back to Dream and rolls his eyes. “What more do you want, Dream?”
Dream’s posture tenses, sensing the slight threat rising from Techno’s tone of voice. “I just need one more thing from you, some information that's all.”
At Dream’s request Techno raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “And what would that be?”
For the first time all day Dream smiles. His eyes squint slightly, head tilting downwards at the smallest angle in downcast, a complete shift in tone from earlier but nonetheless back to the same Dream everyone had come to loathe.
“Where the hell is TommyInnit”