Chapter Text
It started, as it usually did, with a conflict.
The ‘red banquet’, as the other SMP members had taken to calling it, was just the latest in a long string of attempts by the Eggpire to take over the rest of the people living on the server. Bad invited just about everyone who could stand to be in the same room, as a truce of sorts. A friendly gathering, nothing more.
And, even if he was under control of the Egg, Bad was just…well, Bad. What was he going to do?
Apparently, sacrifice a demigod.
Sapnap, thankfully, had not attended the ‘red banquet’, as other SMP members had taken to calling it, but George had, apparently on XD’s orders. He didn’t really pay too much attention, mind too addled from sleep and too absorbed in the food, but he did say enough about the incident for Sapnap to confirm what had happened. The Bad he knew was no more, completely consumed by the red vines. He no longer cared about the people on the server, the family he swore to protect.
Foolish died that day, a volunteer to protect everyone else from whatever they were planning. He stepped in, was executed for his meddling, and only then did help arrive and get the rest of the group out of there.
And now here Foolish was, standing in front of him at (thankfully) a normal height, wringing his hands. He’d originally messaged Sapnap to talk about what happened at the banquet, since it did concern George, a member of his kingdom, and Quackity, his fiance. Sapnap didn’t know Foolish all that well, nor did he care to try, but if he knew something about the people he cared about, then Sapnap was willing to listen to a stranger. The most he understood was that Foolish was an oddball who couldn’t directly do anything for others unless requested, which made for some very strange conversations.
Sapnap hadn’t really welcomed him into his kingdom, but he did allow the presence nonetheless in their home. Foolish had helped build up some of it on Karl’s request, and Sapnap couldn’t deny his efficiency. Still, he didn’t trust him further than he could throw him—which was not as far as he liked to admit.
Foolish was rather awkward about the arrangement, even though it was literally his build they stood in, fiddling nervously with various blocks and tools at his belt. For a builder, he certainly looked the part. For a demigod, not so much. If he wasn’t practically solid gold, Sapnap might’ve tried something by this point. Maybe a pickaxe would get through him easier than a sword.
He crossed his arms, and leaned back against a support beam faux-casually. “So, are you gonna tell me why you decided to show up here or what?”
Foolish startled a moment, tightly clutching a small block of sandstone. When he released his grip, a few larger chunks of sand fell to the floor.
“Apologies,” he said formally. “I don’t know how to say this without upsetting you.”
“Just spit it out,” Sapnap told him. He was familiar with Foolish, but didn’t know enough to verify that he wasn’t a threat. As it was, he didn’t know why Foolish wanted to talk to him at all. “Can’t be that hard to say. Is anyone dead?”
“No, nobody else has died.” Foolish took a deep breath; thought for a moment. “It’s relating to…the Red Banquet, I suppose, but also Las Nevadas. And Quackity.”
That was a face Sapnap hadn’t seen in a minute.
George mentioned something about it when he returned, half coherent and glaringly exhausted. All he said was that Technoblade had shown up with Quackity, attacked the Eggpire, and then vanished. Sapnap got nothing else out of him, as he collapsed soon after and hadn’t woken up since.
Foolish breathed. “He let me die.”
Sapnap blinked. “Quackity let you die?” he repeated, like it wasn’t the most absurd thing he could think of. Quackity, letting an innocent die? A member of his country, no less? And, regardless, could Foolish even die? Demigods were supposed to be strong. Surely that wasn’t a canon death, right?
“At the banquet, yes. He said so himself, several days ago. Quackity was already present when the Eggpire demanded a sacrifice, and he allowed it to happen before intervening. He claimed it was some kind of lesson I needed to learn about being feared.”
That seemed out of character for what Sapnap knew about Quackity. Maybe he had more of a “tough love” approach, but so did Sapnap. Getting someone killed wasn’t tough love, not in a world where death could be permanent. Nobody really knew how many lives they had, even if it was generally accepted that most people had three. Philza and Technoblade both only had one. Ranboo did too, maybe. He didn’t really know. Nobody liked to talk about it.
“I don’t see how this is relevant,” Sapnap said shortly. Whether Quackity had beef with Foolish or not was none of his concern. “If this is about whatever…disagreement you have with Quackity…”
“No,” Foolish protested, weirdly monotone. “It is part of it, yes, but—”
“If you’re trying to talk me into killing my fiance, it won’t work.” Sapnap leaned against the counter, itching to pull out his sword. As it was, he felt naked enough without armor, but he agreed to it, knowing that Foolish probably wasn’t an active threat. “I really don’t care what he did or didn’t tell you. Honestly, I don’t even care if you’re telling the truth or not. But I’m not doing your dirty work for you.”
More sand fell to the floor as the sandstone block vanished from his hand. “I told you, it is not entirely related, but I did realize something.” Foolish fiddled with the pickaxe on his belt instead of a block. “I realized that Quackity isn’t, like, a great guy.”
So that was what this was about. Sapnap pulled his weapon. “If you’re just here to insult him, I suggest you get out.” He wasn’t quite at his breaking point yet, but he could easily feel the heat of rage building inside his chest, feel smoke escaping his lungs. “I won’t sit here and listen to this.”
“I do need your help with something, and it doesn’t have to involve killing Quackity, truly.” Foolish rubbed the back of his neck, rather awkwardly given how he spoke. “Demigods are not meant to be involved in mortal affairs, but this has been bothering me for a long time. I cannot help directly, which is why I came to you. You need to ask me for help. I’m just able to give you some pointers.”
“So you came to me,” Sapnap repeated, unimpressed. His sword didn’t waver. “So what is it you want? Because if your next words are anything about arguing with Quackity, then pack up and get out unless you want to lose a second life.”
Foolish took a breath, in and out, and straightened up to his fullest height. He squared his shoulders, conjuring up an air of authority around him. The room began to smell like ozone.
“Within the last several months, Quackity obtained a guard dog in Las Nevadas. He is by his side at all times, and I cannot attest to his good treatment. That is all I am able to say.”
Here it was, with Foolish’s strange riddles. He could answer questions truthfully, but to fully give anyone information, they had to ask the right kind of questions. It was something he had learned when dealing with Foolish during his time building in Kinoko.
Sapnap attempted to relax. Foolish had come all this way. The least he could do was play along for a moment. If it was any consolation, Foolish was not known to tell lies.
“This ‘guard dog’. He’s being mistreated?”
Foolish hummed, a little contemplative. “I believe a more accurate term would be tortured.”
Somehow, he wasn’t really surprised, but it still was a shock to hear someone say it. Torture wasn’t entirely uncommon in these lands, and it didn’t help that nobody attempted to stop it. Dream might’ve, long ago. But then he went and pulled that shit with Tommy, and all hell broke loose.
“By Quackity?” Sapnap asked, more than skeptical. “And even if he did, why do I care? I don’t know everyone. I don’t care about everyone. Sure, Quackity might be a piece of shit for it, but I’d have known if any of the server went missing.”
Foolish was silent, and his silence said everything. Sapnap was onto something, but he didn’t know what. It was true, he didn’t know everyone who lived on the server, but he had at least a grasp of his friends and enemies. Many of them were prone to going awol, but they’d always pop up, whether it was a few weeks or months later. Karl had just come back from one of his longer stints away.
Suddenly, doubt began to cloud his mind. Foolish went quiet after he said he would have known.
“It’s someone I know?”
“Correct.”
“What is their name?”
Foolish paused, and thought for a moment. Evidently, this seemed to be information he could give, because he opened his mouth and said, “Dream.”
The dread abruptly vanished. Sapnap barked out a laugh. “You actually think I’d believe that? You think I’d believe that he could do that to Dream of all people?”
Foolish wasn’t laughing. His face was stone, absolutely serious.
Sapnap still didn’t buy it.
“Fine,” he said, deciding to humor him. “Say I believe you. What do you want me to do about it?”
“I don’t want you doing anything,” Foolish said. “I can only follow you if you choose to go. But I can promise you that if you don’t, there will be a day when this server no longer has an admin to monitor it.”
Well that wasn’t ominous at all.
For all he was, Foolish was not a liar. Most demigods didn’t understand human pain and suffering. If Foolish was coming to him now…
Dread pooled in his stomach.
“If you want to, I can get you into Las Nevadas maybe in a few days…”
“No,” Sapnap said. “If you want me there, we’re going now.” That way, if it was a trap, Foolish wouldn’t even have the time to set it up. Sapnap would go on his terms, ready, and he wouldn’t be caught off guard.
Foolish looked surprised. “Oh. I would’ve thought you’d want time to prepare.”
“I’m prepared enough,” he said shortly. “I’m choosing to humor you, Foolish. Take me to Las Nevadas.”
Foolish wouldn’t have come all this way for no reason. Something was going down in Las Nevadas, and it had to involve Dream. Maybe Quackity wanted to discuss things, and he’d told Foolish to use Dream’s name to drag him out. Maybe this was a whole misunderstanding, and he’d get there and smooth things over, then return, irritated, in time for him to make himself dinner.
The pickaxe vanished from Foolish’s hand. “Epic. Then let’s get going.”
It took a good part of the morning to make the trek over to the desert. By the time they got there, Sapnap had sand in his boots and even more in his face, and was at the end of an already fraying rope. If this was truly nothing, if Foolish dragged him out here for a conversation or whatever else, he’d raise hell.
They finally made it inside the casino, and Sapnap had to resist spitting up half the desert onto the carpet. He did not, however, resist dumping out his boots, much to the dismay of a passing attendant.
“This way,” Foolish urged him, leading him between some of the smaller pathways between the slot machines. “I don’t know Dream’s exact routes, but if he’s not with Quackity he’s usually—”
Sapnap tuned him out. As it was, he only half believed him, anyway. If Dream really was here, Quackity would definitely have some explaining to do. But torture? No. Quackity wasn’t capable of that. He certainly wasn’t capable of torturing someone like Dream, and not to the lows that Foolish explained. All of this was either some kind of trap, or a misunderstanding. Maybe Sam had let Dream serve out community service here, as strange as that sounded, though he didn’t know why he wouldn’t have let the rest of the server know. Tommy especially, even if he never would usually set foot in Las Nevadas.
“There.”
Sapnap immediately whipped around, and Foolish dragged him behind one of the machines. “Over by the bar,” he whispered. “Coming out of that hallway.”
Sure enough, there was Quackity, talking to open air and gesturing wildly. And, not two steps behind him, was Dream. Dream, utterly maskless, with wild, untamed hair, and dark circles under his eyes that almost looked like bruises.
His stomach dropped. There was just no way…no way Foolish was telling the truth. The thought of it was impossible. Nobody could do that, and certainly not to Dream.
“...and you really piss me off sometimes, Dream! You really do!”
Dream, stiffly walking behind him, said nothing. There was a new scar on his face that Sapnap had never seen before, and it was clearly a newer one. It was still red and raised, stark against how pale and gray his skin was. Dream was limping too, he noticed, just slightly. His armor looked a size too big, his cheeks a little too hollow. A metal ring around his neck made him look sickly and frail, beaten down and tired.
“Honestly, you’re so lucky I want you around here. You scare away some of the guests, do you know that? It's absolutely insane how much work I’m putting into you.”
That pit in his stomach began to grow. What Quackity was saying was bad, yes, and highly incriminating, but Sapnap knew him better than that. He wouldn’t stoop to torture. He wouldn’t go that low.
Would he?
“See?” Foolish whispered. “I told you. I…I didn’t know who else that might care. Figured you were probably my best bet.”
Sapnap could believe a lot of things.
He couldn’t believe this.
“There’s no way,” he said, just a touch too loud.
Quackity heard him.
He stopped dead in his tracks, glaring suspiciously around at the machines. Sapnap and Foolish ducked closer into their hiding place, watching through the gaps of wires.
Dream, who hadn’t noticed the stop, walked right into Quackity. For a second, Sapnap thought that maybe something would prove him wrong, that the mistake would be laughed off, but there wasn’t even a moment’s pause. Quackity tensed up at the contact, whipped around, and backhanded Dream right across the face.
“You fucking mutt!” Quackity screamed. “Watch where you’re fucking going!”
Sapnap was ashamed to admit that he froze. Foolish’s grip tightened on him anyway, like he was afraid that Sapnap would charge.
“This is pretty normal,” Foolish said in a loud whisper over Quackity’s yells as he continued berating Dream. “He’s…like this a lot, with him. It’s stress relief, I think.”
Dream was on the ground now, eyes closed and hands guarding his head. Quackity kicked him, once, twice, then pulled what looked like a remote out of his pocket. Dream went rigid, and a mechanical clicking sound filled the air. A choked off scream left his lips.
Screw the recon. Screw the silence. He wasn’t about to watch this go down and do nothing about it. He wrenched his arm out of Foolish’s grip, drew his sword, and screamed, “Quackity!”
Quackity stopped. He turned around, a little startled, to see Sapnap marching toward him. A small smile crossed his face, as pleasant as it was cruel, and he offered a greeting.
“Sapnap! What do I owe the pleasure of—”
“Don’t give me that bullshit!” He advanced, sword aloft. “What the fuck is this??”
“Community service,” Quackity said smoothly, the smile not fading from his expression. “Dream gets out of the Vault, I get a guard for my country. It’s really a win for everyone, don’t you think?”
Sapnap had been to Pandora’s Vault before. He’d sat on the rough ground, leaned against the wall, felt the tears of the crying obsidian as they dripped oppressively over his head. He saw the raw potatoes, saw the lack of a bed, witnessed the single contaminated cauldron. It was bad, certainly. It wasn’t meant to be a vacation, and Dream hadn’t built it to be. But if Dream truly had a choice, he wasn’t sure he’d take this. Not when there was a collar clear as day around his neck and tears on his face.
Flames licked the side of his mouth. “You fucking know what, Quackity? We’re done. Hand him over, and you won’t lose a life to me.”
It was almost heartbreaking to watch the way Quackity’s face fell. Sapnap could see pain, disbelief, and anguish, before it twisted into barely restrained fury, covered up like nothing else could hurt him.
“Mutt!” Quackity called, summoning a shield in his hand. “Heel!”
Dream, still on the ground, clumsily shoved himself upright. Almost rehearsed, he stumbled his way to Quackity on shaky legs, and drew his sword, poised half a step in front of the shield. The tip was angled at Sapnap, trembling in his hand.
Sapnap exhaled flames. “Not fucking happening.” He wasn’t going to go through Dream for his sake. He parried Dream’s sword with more force than needed, and sent the next swipe toward Quackity. Dream, who had been a master swordsman before the prison, recovered quickly enough to jump back into the fight.
“Oh for fucks—Foolish!” Sapnap yelled the last word, frustrated. “Grab him!”
“Finally!”
As if he’d teleported, Foolish appeared, significantly taller than when he’d hidden with Sapnap moments ago, and seized Dream by his forearm. Dream, unable to struggle against someone of that size, tried anyway, desperation behind his every tug.
“Foolish, what the fuck?!” Quackity struggled to block Sapnap’s next attack. “You belong to Las Nevadas, you—”
“I’m a demigod, Quackity, if you haven’t forgotten.” Foolish calmly pulled Dream back, who was struggling desperately against him. “I don’t involve myself unless asked. And this,” he grinned, showing off rows of pointed teeth, “this is payback for letting me die.”
Sapnap thrust his sword forward, burying it in Quackity’s chest up to the hilt. He just barely missed the spine, but in that moment he didn’t care as he yanked it back out. A canon death felt like an appropriate trade for all he’d done. Nobody, not even Quackity, messed with family.
He didn’t feel nothing as Quackity bled out on the carpet, and he couldn’t bring himself to think that this might be the right decision.
Sapnap turned away.
When Dream saw Quackity die, he knew it wasn’t because of how he was being treated. He’d long ago given up the idea that the server didn’t know, or didn’t condone the training. Maybe, in his wildest dreams, someone would protest. Someone would say something. He knew, however, that nobody would.
People had seen him in the casino. Those he recognized, those he didn’t, they all blurred into a haze as he just tried to focus on what Quackity ordered of him. Sometimes he could hide behind his mask. Usually, he couldn’t. Quackity had given him a cheap replacement, since Sapnap had the original, and it wasn’t enchanted. A drunken bar brawl had shattered it a week ago, and he knew better than to think that Quackity would care about getting him a replacement.
When Dream saw Sapnap appear, blazing with fury, his first thought was that he had come to take his final life. He’d seen Sapnap this angry before, even seen him angrier, but nothing could compare with the simultaneous relief and heartbreak in his chest. Sapnap told him that he’d kill him if he ever got out of the Vault. He must have finally decided it was time, even as that anger was directed at Quackity.
Somewhere deep down, Dream couldn’t stop his heart from hoping that it was a rescue.
He knew better than that. He knew better than to hope, to pretend, to live in these wild fantasies where somebody cared. When Dream saw Quackity die by Sapnap’s hand, he assumed the one thing he could: that this was a property dispute. One over him. Why else would Sapnap be here? Why else would Quackity order him to attack? They both wanted him, or maybe they wanted his head, he didn’t really know. Did it matter, in the end? Neither of them were going to get the book. He refused to give it up.
“Oh, good,” Foolish said, almost casually. “He stopped fighting.”
It was true. Dream was now slack in Foolish’s arms, staring at the spot where Quackity’s body slowly disintegrated. Quackity wasn’t dead, not permanently, but Dream had let him die. If Sapnap ever gave him the opportunity to get close, Dream was in for a world of trouble.
“Dream!”
He couldn’t help it. He flinched when Sapnap approached, still off-balance and beyond dizzy. His throat burned, and his legs felt like jelly. As it was, he was shaking, barely able to stand as aftershocks coursed through him. If this truly was a property dispute, then Dream had turned his sword on his new master. That could only end badly.
Sapnap seized him by the shoulders. “Holy shit, Dream, I didn’t think Foolish was telling the truth.”
“Rude,” Foolish said behind him. “I’m not known for lying, Sapnap.”
Just a little, Sapnap shook him. “Dude, really, are you okay?”
Like always, Dream said nothing. He could feel tears on his cheeks, the fresh burn at his neck from the redstone collar, the aching pains throughout his body that had become a constant friend to him. He wasn’t okay. He would never be okay, and it didn’t matter to Sapnap.
Foolish coughed. “Um…”
Sapnap startled. “Shit. Yeah, right.” He gave Dream a small smile, though Dream knew it was forced. “Let’s…let’s get you home, okay?”
Foolish carried him out. Together, he and Sapnap dragged him out of Las Nevadas, and broke open the redstone collar after it went off when they passed the boundary. Neither of them left Dream gasping and in pain, even if he deserved it. Neither of them punished Dream when he scrambled back inside the gate, desperate for it to stop for just a moment.
Sapnap brought him to Kinoko Kingdom, a place he’d built while Dream was in prison, and relieved him of his duty. He gave no tasks, only minor orders and questions that Dream never answered, and he went quiet and pliant as Sapnap did whatever he needed to. Sapnap settled him on a couch, an actual couch with cushions and throw pillows and handmade blankets, and stripped off his armor to examine injuries old and new alike with a grimace on his face. He gave Dream a health potion, just handed it to him like it was nothing, and went about making some food. Dream stayed, stayed like a good dog should as his oldest friend tottered about in the kitchen, banging pots and pans around as he also set on more potions to brew. Dream could smell the blaze powder from here.
Just like in the casino, he could imagine that this was truly a rescue. But he knew better. Rescues weren’t for him. Real food wasn’t for him. Being a person wasn’t for him. It was a shame he only had time to process when he knew the memories of his most treasured friendships would be beaten out of him.