The last one to stand-A Dream SMP AU(Englisch Vers.)

Chapter 2

"We gotta get out of here! We gotta get out of here, we gotta go, man!"
Techno urged, as they walked through the corridor of the prison.
He had helped Dream breaking out of prison.
Brought him armor, enderpearls and food.
As they bent around the corner, Dream folded the blood in the veins.
Surprised, they stopped.
"What the heck?!" Techno stared forward in disbelief.
"Wait...WHAT?!" Screamed Dream at the same moment.
In front of them stood a whole army of enemies...most of them in full armor.
Ranboo, Eret, Bad, Skeppy, Puffy, Sam...and all the others were there.
Observed them both, their weapons ready to fight.
Dream turned to Techno and looked at him, seeking for help.
"Uhhhh...I don't know how to do that. Alright, beam me up scotty!"
He vanished in a cloud of purple particles and left Dream alone.

"I know you didn't mean it, Techno..." he gently smiled, while talking to his best and only Friend:
"Ofcourse we did! You should come and visit once...maybe you even wan't to stay then?"
He could hear Phil talking in the backround.
"Phil's right. Come and give it a take. Just once?"
His smile faded and memories flashed for his eyes.
All these sad, disturbing moments of their past...
"No thank you, I'm alright here on my own...."
"Could you atleast visit the Therapist we booked you? Were worried, Clay!"
He sight. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? It would be better, for everyone...
He didn't wan't to hurt anyone anymore.
He chuckled. 
How selfish of him, to reject the worries of his best Friend, only so that he could reconcile it with his conscience.
It was ironic, wasn't it? No matter what he would do, he would hurt Techno and Phil either way...
Anger and sadness over his own inability to protect his friends at least once crawled up in him.
His head seemed empty and he was just tumbling through life like an empty shell.
Perhaps he did it here more for himself than for the others?

Fear burned in his bowels, burned him out and devoured him.
Flames of pain, loneliness and grief blazed beyond him, withdrew from his control.
His vision blurred and his world faded.
Thoughts, worries and problems kept him awake every night, waiting for him to free and tell them.

He didn't.
He never did.
He kept them to himself.
He always solved his problems on his own.
He was used to saying that everything was fine while his world was in tators and he didn't get anything on his way.
He had always somehow managed to get it.
Why would he suddenly do it differently?

But it grew over his head.
Swarmed around him and pulled a roap around his neck.
Would it only be real.

He only scratches superficially at this mountain of emotions, jammed in it, some of unknown origin.

It was late, but it wasn't time for him to go to sleep.
He couldn't find one anyway. 
It paralyzed him, kept him awake, took every opportunity to penetrate his thoughts.

It hurt.

More and more often he found himself breathing heavily, exhausted and with tears of salted cheeks in the middle of a panic attack.
His stomach was laced together and his head ran empty.
He slammed him against the wall, hoping it would stop.
He screamed and begged weeping to let it pass.
He rocked back and forward, staring at his surroundings.
Disappeared in his head.
In this endless blackened and without noticing, time passed like in flight around him.
He did it in his conscience not to find solace or salvation.
He did it in his conscience to continue to run away from his problems and hide from them.
He did it to his conscience that he tipped oil into the fire.

It robbed him of himself, erased everything, and left only that pain behind.
This incredible pain that burned in him and caused him to fall into ashes.
It was lonely, as if burnt out ash.
And terribly cold.
The warmth of the fire was missing.
The stinging, torturous warmth.

Let it stop....