𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲【𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐦𝐩 𝐖𝐚𝐫】

♛86♛

tw/cw: existential themes, cursing

I'm very serious about this guys, if any of this, even a tiny bit, makes you feel the slightest bit weird, uncomfortable, anything. Stop reading. Don't read the chapters with these warnings. I do in fact give them for a reason, and I'd hate for any of you to experience anything negative because I didn't provide good enough warnings. ♛

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Dream sat on top of his lectern, looking at the woman who was half passed out, bags developing under her eyes. He wouldn't tell anyone, but he was worried. She hadn't eaten at all, despite his offers, only gave him tired glances, her thinning fingers continuously weaving themselves through the teens hair. She hadn't slept of course, maybe small five minute naps, but she was awake every second of the day, either humming or telling the dead teen stories.

It could have been seen as morbid, but even he knew it was a  way to cope until he decided to bring her son back. He had been particularly interested in the mythology she began to recite, telling the stories as if they had been engrained in her head and left on repeat like a broken record. Dream paused for a second, even the slightest bit of guilt washing over him. She was now telling the story of Icarus. It was ironic, for her at least, seeing as the man she used to serve and live with had named her an Icarus at the time of her death.

Cypress spoke of her ambitions,  things Dream wasn't even aware of until their lonely moments in the encased room. She spoke of her decisions, reflecting on them. How sometimes she regrets her time on the cliff, wishing she had almost done more with her life before throwing it up to a gamble. How she wished she had been there for the teen more, both of them. As well as anyone who would ever need her. The woman was almost confessing herself in their moments together. Dream finally had enough, his humanity teetering off the edge. In a final moment of attempted repayment, he decided to bring the teen back.

Truth be told, he had no plans on reviving him. If the woman hadn't struck his own thinning heartstrings, he wouldn't have considered it. It may have been guilt, or the fact she'd have to spend more time with him in order to repay for what he would do for her. Dream surprisingly disregarded that in his mind. He had done a lot of damage to her, and dangling the life of her son for the fourth time seemed almost like a waste now. Dream had effectively broken the woman time and time again, but yet she was still standing. He wasn't sure if it pissed him off or if he was jealous, or proud, or just amazed of the endurance.

Dream shook himself from his thoughts, going through all the motions in his head. He would miss having someone to talk to, even if the person talking despised him. He breathed a puff of air, glancing at her shoulder which still had his branding burnt into her skin. The imprisoned man let his eyes trace every scar, the crooked one crossing from her eyebrow down to the middle of her nose. The way it had left a permanent hairless patch. The scars along the top of her eyes, thinned down to the point where you had to squint to see the patches of blushed skin. He allowed his gaze to move down to her hands. They were thin, bones poking delicately through the skin, nicks and cuts marring the service of the cold looking skin. he glanced at her ring finger, looking at the thin silver intricately weaving itself around what looked to be a sapphire.

Dream assumed it was from Technoblade. The two had been impossibly close, and he never doubted that they would end up together. He wondered why it took so long through, but perhaps promising yourself to another during a war wasn't preferred. Perhaps that was his fault. He smiled, almost sadly, to himself, taking a small breath. Even he could sense his humanity dwindling down to nothing. He believed he was too forgone anyways. It was his only hope that some day he would turn out fine, that people found happiness in his own death. The past few months, he wasn't sure what had come over him. It felt awful, sometimes. Knowing he was the cause of so many problems, but causing them felt like an addiction he couldn't shake.

He got high off the feeling. For a second, he rid himself of that high, watching the teens eyes flutter open. Cypress remained still, glancing down at her son who seemed to be breathing.

"Mum..?" He whispered, groaning at the way his body felt. The woman blinked a few times, her hands halting in shock. 

"Tommy?" She began, her eyes filling with tears, the liquid slowly dribbling past their barriers.

"Mum.. no.. no where's.." The teen sat up, looking around, making eye contact with the blond haired man, panic seizing his movements. 
"Wilbur.. Schlatt, Mexican Dream, where.. Mum where.. why am I back? I thought I was- Mum, please why am I here, why.. I thought, I'm suppose to be dead, why am I here."

Cypress pulled the boy gently into her, careful of moving too quickly. The process of returning to the living was often painful, of course she endured it the best she could in order to protect those who she wished. The teen, fortunately, didn't have to.

"What was it like Tommy?" Dream cut in, hopping off the lectern, walking over to the pair, Tommy curled and shaking, tucked into his mothers arms.

"Cool it Dream.. you can ask me if you have questions, leave him be. It's a stressful thing to go to, and he needs rest." Cypress snapped, tugging him closer. Dream raised an eyebrow.

"Oh come on now.. you went through something different, I spared your son that. So I suggest you allow me to ask what questions I want before you both go visit the dead again. Who knows how long it'll take for me to bring you back then." He felt the woman stiffen, before she carefully set a hand on Tommy's cheek.

"Can he at least rest first? It isn't healthy for him. Please." She requested, quieting her voice down, feeling the teen let out a soft sob.

"Very well, continue with your stories please." He asked in return, propping himself up across from her, keeping eye contact with the woman as she breathed out, continuing her story which now centered around Midas. 

Dream found it humorous how she described herself after the story of Icarus. How her ambitions led to her downfall, much like the fallen Greek mythology character. Then moving to Midas, a man who's own greed led to his downfall, all whilst making eye contact with her current prison mate. 

"I only hope in the end, those who listen to Midas' story realize happiness and fulfillness in life is not fueled by greed, or material object.. or gold in this case. but rather the experiences you allow yourself to have, the commitments you make, the people you choose to trust. True happiness is something you'll never find if you are clouded by the end goal. The material object or greed which strives you to push forward."