this world we have built is burning down around us | Dream SMP Time Travel Fic

we find ourselves ahead of the curve (beware, we've not left all in the dust)

Theseus slunk back into the castle that evening, ducking through the back door and closing it as quietly as he could. He glanced about the dark halls, assuring as best he could with a blind eye and broken ears that no strangers (or Dream) were lurking, and then he swiftly headed for the stairs.

"Where were you?"

Theseus couldn't hold back the high-pitched yelp that leapt from his throat, and he already had his brother's axe in hand when he whirled around to see Eret standing at the bottom of the steps, eyes hidden behind tinted lenses and arm crossed.

"What the hell are you still doing awake?!" Theseus glowered at the king, heart still thumping in his chest, and lowered his axe, though he didn't yet return it to his inventory.

It was hard to tell in the darkness, but Theseus could imagine Eret lifting an eyebrow. He glanced behind the man, noticing a light streaming out into the hallway from a stray room just around the corner.

"Startled much?" Eret frowned. "I wasn't that quiet, and the space echoes."

Theseus's lip twitched. "My hearing's a bit fucked, Big Man. Still doesn't answer my question."

Eret recalled the way Theseus had walked in on him and Dream in the throne room, how the boy had realized the dire nature of the situation too late despite the volume of Dream's ravings. "I have paperwork to do," the king said instead of mentioning it, part explanation and part expectant. "What's your excuse?"

Theseus narrowed his eyes further, shifting his axe in his hands, studying the way Eret followed the edge's glint from the moonlight that shone through the window panes and the wispy glimmer from the carefully etched enchants. "I need permission to go out now? You're not my dad, dickhead."

"No," Eret conceded, and his arms dropped from their crossed position, body slumping and sigh escaping his lips tiredly, "but the last time I saw you, you were fleeing like a bat out of hell because Dream was here. I was honestly worried he'd found you or something."

Theseus bit his lip, a chill running up his spine at the thought. "No, he didn't. But he might know I'm here—or he will eventually."

Eret's posture stiffened quickly. "What?"

Theseus rubbed the back of his head, tilting back as his spine cracked from the pressure. "Jack saw me. I knocked him out pretty quick and bolted, but they know I exist. There's a good chance they'll tell Dream, since, ya' know, I'm not whitelisted."

Eret frowned, rubbing a hand across his weary face, and Theseus hummed noncommittally in response. The king paused, recognizing the uneasy tone and quick shift of the blond's feet; he was ready to fight or flee, and Eret wasn't sure he could predict which one the boy would pick in time if it came to it. "It's fine. It was bound to happen eventually. Sam messaged me earlier, anyway, said the base is finished enough for you to start moving in. You being farther from the SMP and L'manberg is best, especially now."

Theseus nodded, something passing over his gaze, too quick for Eret to decipher but too dark for him to catch anyway. He gripped the railing with his right hand, fingers pressing and releasing pressure sporadically along the wood, left hand clutching the axe unsteadily. Eret could tell it was not his preferred wielding hand but knew if he even breathed wrong, the blond would swap hands faster than he could blink. "I'll get ready tonight."

"You need sleep," Eret argued, frowning but making sure that he didn't fix his careless posture. "It's late, and you're tired enough as it is. We both know everything you own is able to fit in your inventory, so you have no excuse to stay up."

Theseus scowled, baring his teeth at the king, something Eret had come to recognize as a regular occurrence when the blond was agitated. It felt wrong to compare it to a feral animal, as he often did, but he could honestly never find a better comparison. The boy was a warrior, for better or for worse, and mercy was what kept a warrior human; Eret knew that Theseus had been shown little. "Is the excuse of witnessing and feeling my own deaths and betrayals every time I close my eyes enough for you, your Majesty?" He spat the title, just as Eret suspected any version of Tommy would, but it was not only a mocking; it was sour and spiteful with a lust for violence Eret recognized from his own Tommy, who stood on the front lines with a grin and instigated fights like he was addicted. "You may have let me stay here, and thanks for that, but you're still someone who haunts my nightmares, white eyes, 'Never meant to be' bullshit, and all."