𝙸𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝙸𝚝 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚁𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐?

ɪɪ. 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐲

— JUST TRIPPING ON DAYDREAMS — 

character warning : brief mention of a6d. i'm sorry, it was decided by the plot i set up back in chapter one, before ... everything, and i can't take him out/replace him. again, so sorry. 

 also, minor gore, guns, & lots of fighting 

 It was a nice building, once they had gotten past the dirty stairs that brought them to the main floors. Clean glass windows looking out over the entire city, making cars look small, like kid's toys, and the lines of shops were nothing more than decorated boxes. The floors were so clean they shined, and Bad felt a twang of revel when he stepped on them with his dirt-crusted boots. Anywhere else, the mess wouldn't have shown, but here, it stuck out starkly, and that brought Bad the slightest bit of giddiness. It was like he was just mocking them now. 

From the outside, the Hero Council building towered over the streets like an intimidating mass of mirrors and concrete, so tall that at the top, you could cut through clouds floating by simply by reaching up for them. On a clear day it reflected the sun so brightly it looked like one panel of light, stacked together like bricks. On the inside it was just as intimidating. Everything was perfectly orderly and sure of itself, and as white as a hospital. 

"Wait." Dream halted and turned around, raising an eyebrow at the look of utter confusion on Bad's face. The brunette gasped sharply. "Twelve hyphen Four was a cop." Sam had said that two villains had tried—and ultimately failed to get into the tower, and the floor was named after them because of it. But 12-4 wasn't a villain. They worked at the police station. 

"I got caught up in a villain attack a couple of weeks ago. George was the one orchestrating it, and was fighting A6D and Skeppy. I called the police." He was out of breath, talking quickly, trying to remember the specifics of the night. "They introduced themselves as officer twelve hyphen four. Holy muffin. Sam?" 

He tapped his earbud, and Sam's voice crackled in response. "Darryl?" 

"Which floor are we supposed to be going to?" Dream was getting antsy now. They had been standing in the same spot for too long. Lingering too long was a dangerous play, and they needed to get moving. 

"Twenty-two, why?" He asked, a smirk lacing his words. Bad gulped and steeled his nerves. 

"What did you do." 

Sam, on the other side of the call, grinned. "Nothing I wasn't supposed to." 

Dream looked at Bad, nodding a silent agreement. He sprinted to the stairs, vaulting over the railing, and started to take the steps four at a time. Bad stood still where he was. He uttered a single word. 

"Liar." 

Then he smashed the earpiece into a hundred pieces. 

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ 

Tubbo sat at his desk, in the room where all of his computers were stored, many of them open with too many browsers to count, flashing news articles and channels for daily Hero updates. A lone daisy grew in his vase, still flourishing even as the rest of his bouquet died off, the wilted petals and broken stems decomposing in the trash can. It was ironic, really. Tommy had found the flowers. He gave them to Tubbo packaged as a small crown. When he had unwoven them, Tubbo immediately put them in a vase with water. Now Tommy was gone and there stood only one flower.