unravel | dream x reader |

[20]

Standing outside the tall L'manburg gateway, was a tall, green hooded blonde carrying a heavy, shimmering axe over his shoulder. His spare hand was stuffed into his pocket, tightly gripping the length of rope weaving between his fingers as he stood waiting. Eret stood beside him, standing anxiously as back up to the masked warrior in case things were to head south, not that he actually needed it being the ruthless fighter he was. Today, they were waiting to retrieve Y/N from their enemies once again after spending what must have been weeks with them so Tommy could heal. He figured that now should have been long enough for him to recover, or at least be in some sort of shape to be conscious and okay, so here he was, practically standing on their doorstep to take her away again.

He was aware of the small head poking through the window of the medical wing of the van, nervously sending glances towards him before ducking into hiding again, so it wasn't as if his presence here was unknown. It was just a matter of time before he would take the situation into his own hands, with the possibility of some violence too. Meanwhile, that certain small head poking out the window was anxiously chewing his thumb in thought, letting out rushed and quiet murmurs of worry to himself. An exaggerated groan was also heard.

"Tubbo, can you please stop doing that, this is stressful enough as it is..." Tommy finally broke the silence in the small van, dragging his palm down his face as he shot the boy a disapproving look. The brunette took a second to breathe before nodding his head slightly, moving to sit on the counter and tap his fingers against it instead. Tommy just groaned again at the boy's nervous mannerisms, shaking his head in defeat. Fundy lightly slapped the blonde's arm, as if to say 'shut up'.

Three of the current four fighters were huddled up in the van, longingly waiting for their leader to arrive with at least some sort of words of wisdom or bright ideas. Tommy had his head in his hands, staring down at the table in-front of him wordlessly, sending a few stray glances towards the enemy outdoors. Tubbo was beside Tommy, looking out straight ahead as he tried to distract his mind from what was happening and onto something different. Fundy was patiently waiting at the doorway, his back against the frame and his arms crossed over his puffed chest.

Wilbur had told the three to wait in the cramped room of the van until he returns, claiming that he needed to get some sort of plan to speak with Dream. Truthfully, he just needed a bit of time to think of what that plan was, feeling just as nerve wrecked as the rest of them, if not more. He was well aware of his lack of time and the lack of patience his beloved enemy had, honestly he was surprised he was yet to run out of it.

He rested just outside of the truck, making small paces back and forth out of Dream's sight, with a hand buried deep in the mop of dark curls framing his face as well as tugging at them in frustration. He was muttering a series of curses underneath his breath, his eyes scrunched up together. Why couldn't he just think? He almost always had some sort of scheme or plan, and even when he didn't he managed to push through, harmed or unharmed. But right when he needed a well-thought out plan most, his mind chose to go elsewhere. It seemed as if there were no way around this without it ending negatively for them - a part of him even wanted to say 'fuck it' and come clean, taking the consequences like a bullet to his chest. But that was too far fetched, even for him. He figured he should go with the latter option - the other idea that he wasn't the most fond of.

Swallowing air, he dropped his arms and decided to walk around and head back into the van, ready to explain one of the most foolish and weakest plans yet to his team of three.

Rambling.

It was humiliating to even think about, but he didn't exactly have the widest range of options to work with. It would at least buy him some time to think of a real plan if it ever decided to come to his head. Who knows? Maybe the guy's just thick-headed and wont think much of it.