The Muffinteers - Dream Team Fanfiction (BOOK 1)

Broken Memory - Dream POV

 The morning was somber. As the sun rose, Dream went through the fridge to find any items that may suffice as anything they could eat for breakfast. Most of the food had been eaten the night before, and the rest were simple things, like butter, cabbage, and a half jug of milk. While Bad heated the stove, he rifled around and managed to find a carton of eggs and some bread.

"This will have to do," he muttered. "I can make it work." He put out some cabbage and started dicing it, carefully throwing the knife in between his fingers and coming down on the crisp leaves. Bad watched him, almost anxiously, until he finished.

"You're good at that," He said, smiling.

"Thanks- can you get me a bowl from the cabinet?"

"Sure thing." Bad pulled down a larger bowl and set it in front of him. He took the handful of cabbage and put it inside, before adding a little milk to it.

"Okay- do you think I should add anything else?" He asked, looking at Bad.

"You tell me. I can't cook," He replied, putting his hands up. Dream sighed.

"Alright then- crack as many eggs as you can."

"Ooh! I love cracking eggs!" Bad clapped his hands together joyously before taking an egg from the open carton. Dream grinned and opened the bag of bread, looking around as he stacked slices onto a plate.

"Is there not a toaster?"

"Er- I don't know." Bad turned in a small circle. "I don't see one. Can't you just use the grill?"
"Oh yeah! Okay. I'll be outside then." He turned, plate in hand, and pushed open the door. The air was just as cold as it was when he and Bad had sat outside and talked. He started the grill and poured lighter fluid over the coals. While waiting for it to heat up, he leaned against the small table and peered around.

Never once in his time of knowing Skeppy did he think there was anything off about him, anything that pointed to him being on antidepressants. Maybe he's just started them, he thought as he tossed a few pieces of bread onto the rack. This was a possibility; he had known Skeppy to be slightly more excitable, always getting more anxious than others when they played online, but nothing ever pointed towards it being severe.

He felt almost guilty. He knew there was nothing he could do, and that it wasn't his fault, but he wanted to help. He wanted to comfort his friend, was desperate to do his part but knew he couldn't without revealing that he knew. He had to pretend everything was completely fine, and let Skeppy go home later that day, alone and with no one to help him if he needed it.

I just wish he would come along, Dream thought as he flipped the bread onto it's untoasted side. Bad had already asked, and he surely wouldn't force Skeppy do anything he didn't want to do. It was too much pressure on the already stressed trip. They just all needed to get away from the chaos of the world around them, escape from the crazed fans and the panicking obstacles he tried so hard to avoid, yet failed every time. There was no way getting around it. He was stuck.

At least he was with his friends. The only thing that had made any of this remotely tolerable was the fact that he had three, and now four, of his closest friends surrounding him. He couldn't be in a room alone without one of them in the cramped space, but it was strange- he liked being so close and nearby. He knew where everyone was, and didn't have to go out of his way to message or call them, worrying if they were online or had something else to do. He was one of their main focuses now, and this felt to him like something he had been missing for a while.

He took the bread off the grill and carefully placed the other half onto the rack. He watched the coals flicker under the fire as the heat browned the soft grains. A cold breeze blew threateningly overhead- why was it so cold? He peered up into the clouds, watching the small shapes move amongst each other in small, meaningless patterns. They were drifting much quicker than normal, teasing the sun by only letting small parts of the horizon show through their thick fog. All at once, his body changed.