That one time I woke up in prison

Chapter 13

Fundy did the work of distracting Sapnap and Tubbo with looking for the mask, while Dream and Sam carefully sought out the bodies of their friends.

The ex-prisoner looked down at the boy he carried limply in his arms. He would look peaceful, if it weren't for all the evidence scarring his skin; death didn't dare disgrace the trials he'd endured through life.

Once hidden by his hair, scarred tissue remained on his scalp from the explosion that cost his first canon life. His face was no less withered, sparking black and torn from the loss of his second canon life. Barely visible under his torn sleeves, horrible burns crawled up his forearms, a reminder of the argument that lost him both of his fiances. Finally, bruising coloured his neck, claw marks tearing the skin, and his head hung at a weird angle, compliments of his final death.

His hair was a rat's nest, strands of white bleaching his auburn hair in streaks. His multicoloured hoodie was the same as always, if not adorned with dust, tears and patches of crimson. Dream vaguely wondered if the initials of "KJ" on the back of the jumper were intact, but he hadn't the heart to check. Instead, he turned to look at how the creeper hybrid was coming along, holding the cold body carefully up to his chest.

The enderman hybrid lay bent at strange angles, the warden hesitant to pick them up as he'd have to admit the image was real. Admitting it was real meant admitting he failed again. How many times would he let children die, even when trying his hardest? First Tommy, then Ranboo. Tubbo was on his last life - would he see the afterlife as well?

The ex-prisoner nudged him gently, "Sam, you haven't failed anyone. Ranboo still has two lives left, and now that I'm here too, I'll help you make sure no harm comes to any of the kids."

"Dream, give yourself some time as well," the warden searched the boy's face with tired eyes, noting the matching dark circles he saw in return, "you didn't exactly get off easy."

"I'll be fine, there are a lot of other people who need more help than me," without waiting for a response, he turned his head to glance at how the others were doing.

...

"Why can't we use TNT?" the bee-loving boy whined, dragging out the 'T' at the end.

"Because there's a chance of blowing up the mask," the bandana-wearing boy rolled his eyes, "and let's not find out what that does just yet."

The anthropomorphic fox piped up, "Does that mean there's a chance for us to find out later?"

He grinned back, "Perhaps."

It didn't take much longer for them to spot the ivory plastic, thankfully. They dug it out of the rubble with gloves, examining the grime and cracks while being careful not to touch the mask directly. Tubbo glanced away for a minute, spotting Dream's glance and giving a simple thumbs up to indicate they'd found it in one piece.

"Alright, time to start getting out of here?" The ex-prisoner turned back to the warden and gave a hopeful smile, obviously anxious to get out of the wrecked vault.

A simple nod was given in response, "Yeah, we can use the water." The creeper hybrid half-turned to the bee-loving boy, "I hate to ask this, but if you can, would you mind helping me take Ranboo up?"

Without many words exchanged, they paired up to help carry the bodies, letting Fundy keep the mask safe while the others did the heavy lifting. It was a long trek, but they eventually returned to the prison, arguing restlessly about what to do first.

Eventually, a steady course of action was decided. They'd be much more careful with the mask from now on, never again would they let it fall into the wrong hands. Tubbo would also be confined to Snowchester to wait for Ranboo's respawn; such things usually took much longer when a canon life is lost, and few knew how horrible it was to wake up alone after something like that. Another important thing would be filling Dream in on everything that had happened during his absence; not forgetting the fact that they'd have to explain to everyone else about the Dreamon. Lastly, funeral arrangements.

"Sapnap." The bandana-wearing boy looked up at the sound of his name. "How are you going to tell Quackity?"

He looked down again, fiddling with his fingers anxiously, "I don't know, it might be better for him to just not know." The ex-prisoner crossed his arms, wordlessly raising an eyebrow.

He flicked his gaze up to spot Dream's expression, before exhaling sharp and choked, putting his head in his hands, "I can't fucking tell him, Dream!" He balls his fists, rubbing at his eyes furiously, "I can't just- This isn't the kind of shit you can just tell someone and be done with it!"

"I know, I know," the boy took his hand and gave it a gentle sympathetic squeeze, "you don't have to do it right now, but it would be better to let him know." Upon his companion's silence, he sighed, "Would you rather he find out on his own and learn that you knew the whole time and didn't tell him because of some stupid argument?"

This time, the silence signified he'd won. Sapnap knew it too, and so he groaned in exasperation. "Fine. I will. Eventually." Trailing off with his grumbling, he looked the ex-prisoner up and down. "We do need to sort you out a bit, though. You look like shit, Dre."

The ex-prisoner wheezed, rolling his eyes as he laid on the sarcasm heavily, "Wow, thanks so much, Sap. You truly have a way with words." The banana-wearing boy managed a grin; he'd missed this.

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Blearily, they peeled their eyes open, pleasantly surprised to find darkness instead of the harsh light of respawn. They clumsily tried to work out their surroundings, recognising the room pretty quickly as being back in Snowchester. The curtains were drawn, despite a hint of sunlight peeking through.

Whatever that was, was it just a dream? No mask, no vault, no demon thing. In the midst of trying to figure it out, their eyes picked out a figure in the darkness, the mop of golden hair easily recognisable. "Tommy?"

The boy blinked at them for a moment, expression unreadable, before turning on his usual demeanor, "Took you long enough to wake up, Ranboob."

"What do you mean?" The enderman hybrid tilted their head, confused.

"It's been nearly two whole weeks. You had me and Tubbo all worried and shit."

" Me and Tubbo?" they repeated, raising an eyebrow with a soft grin. "Awe, Tommy-"

"Just Tubbo, you dipshit!" he glared defensively, retconning his earlier words, "I preferred it when you were in a death-coma."

"Sure you do, Tommy," they spoke with a smile in their voice, "why are you here then?"

"Because Toobo fuckin' forced me, that's why! Don't think anything different, Ranboob." The golden-haired boy glared at them, throwing an accusatory finger in their face as they chuckled. Huffing, he changed the subject, "Tubbo's giving Michael breakfast right now, so you can come for food too, I guess."

Seeing Ranboo's expression, he rolled his eyes, "Yes, I was just about to go grab breakfast as well. Now hurry up, or I'm letting you starve."

The enderman pushed themself up to sit on the edge of the bed, wincing as they attempted to stand. On their first step, their knees collapsed under them, the golden-haired boy quickly reaching to help with guarded concern.

One arm around the shorter boy's shoulder, they let themself be clumsily helped back onto the bed. "Nevermind, I'll just get Tubbo to bring you something instead. Stay here." The golden-haired boy instructed with irritation, stalking out of the room.

It wasn't long before Tubbo bounded into the room, making a move to throw himself at the enderman hybrid before Tommy yanked him back, muttering that Ranboo wasn't fully recovered. The golden-haired boy gently passed them a plate of food, receiving a hum of gratitude from the hybrid.

The bee-loving boy hopped over to sit beside Ranboo, crossing his legs and smiling brightly at his significant other. Tommy himself sat on the edge of the bed, begrudgingly keeping them company. A comfortable silence reigned between the three.

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. . . . .

"Just get out," the beanie-wearing boy snarled, "you're not welcome here."

Despite the hostility, the boy didn't seem deterred. The intruder continued looking around, gawking at the city as he took it all in. He didn't speak, which was unlike him, but he seemed pretty proud of all the work Quackity had put in. Q tried to quell his anger with a deep breath. So all of a sudden he decided to care after going missing for a while? Yeah, no. Quackity regretted being worried about him for a bit there.

The beanie-wearing boy went to block off the trespasser's path again, only for the boy to step around him easily, entering the casino and opting to awe at the inside instead. Quackity groaned in annoyance. He just wanted the boy to leave him alone; the intruder wasn't even trying to make up for the argument, he was just poking his nose into shit where it didn't belong.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" the beanie-wearing boy sighed, more of a growl than anything, "Fuck off. I don't want you here." Silence reigned for a few moments as the intruder stared back at him with an unreadable expression. After a bit, the boy smiled as if nothing had been said, and spun around to skip off, exploring the rest of the casino. "Wha- Hey!"

He started to run after the trespasser, but after a moment of deliberation, he just let the boy run off. Whatever. It wasn't his fault if the intruder got lost or hurt, he wasn't welcome here anyway. He'd be getting a life taken from him if he broke anything or caused a mess, though.

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. . . . .

Knowing Puffy was coming to see him, he felt himself simultaneously anxious and eager. Papa Puffy was finally here to make things alright again! When it came down to her, he recalled that she'd never once failed him in all the time he'd remembered. The ex-prisoner had been given a vague recap on the sheep's position in everything that had happened, and honestly? He was so so proud of her, for doing the right thing instead of sticking to "his" side.

The first of many apologies would be happening very soon, and he figured it would hopefully prepare him for the rest. More importantly, this was an apology that needed to happen as soon as possible. He owed it to her.

As he waited for her arrival, the ex-prisoner hid behind the warden's desk; it reminded him of a child sitting in the office after getting in trouble, knowing their parent was on the way to scold them for bad behaviour.

Admittedly, he was a bit scared to face her. He really hadn't had much of an opportunity to clean up, so he was still in his torn prison jumpsuit, grimy with his hair a rat's nest. When she finally walked in, seeming as apprehensive as him, Dream wondered exactly what they'd told her. How much did she know?

The sheep cleared her throat, gaining Sam's attention as he had simply been chuckling at the ex-prisoner hiding under the counter like a child. "Ah, Puffy, glad to see you could make it so soon."

"I couldn't not prioritise it. He's still my son, you know?" She gave a sad half-smile, before letting it fall, "So what happened? You said you found him." She wrapped her arms around herself in anticipation, awaiting the worst news imaginable.

The warden simply nodded, unsure of whether to reveal the boy's hiding spot or allow him to come in when he wanted to, "Dream has indeed been found. There uh, was a bit of an incident when we went to collect him-" Before he could continue, she went right ahead to ask the important question.

"Did anyone get hurt?" she blurted, hesitating before leaving the main question unasked. Did you have to put him down?

He paused, cringing, "Well yes, a few people got hurt, and two canon lives were lost." As soon as the words left his mouth, he figured it definitely wasn't the right thing to say as her expression shattered. "Your son is unharmed, however."

The sheep struggled for something to say. Had her duckling been the one to steal their lives? The horror must have shown on her face.

"Neither was Dream's doing, don't worry," the creeper hybrid assured, "but that's not what's important right now. You're here to speak to your son in person."

She nodded shakily, though less so now that she knew her duckling hadn't been the one to take another life or two. "Alright, should we start going through the prison entry protocol?"

She was met with the warden's simple shake of his head, "Oh, no need, Dream's hiding under the desk." Half a second later, a painful thud was heard from below, followed by the ex-prisoner scooting out into the open, clutching his head sulkily.

"You just had to snitch, huh?" He glared at the warden jokingly, before letting his hand fall to his side, moving his apprehensive gaze to the sheep in front of him. "...Hey, dad."

Her wide eyes landed on him, taking in his appearance - especially the lack of a mask. Light mint eyes stared back at her, remorseful and hesitant. She had trouble recognising the boy in front of her. His appearance was the same as the dishevelled sociopath that had caused the server's downfall, yet his eyes reminded her of the duckling she'd raised and lost a long time ago.

Stunned, she gaped like a fish for a long minute, unsure of what she was looking at.

"Yeah, pa," he hesitated, getting to his feet to face her, "I know... This isn't anything like what you were expecting, but, um..." He hesitated for a long moment, before cracking and throwing himself into his papa's arms. He'd been denying how fucking horrible his situation was, but now, when there wasn't a kid around, when it was only his papa, he allowed the dam to break.

Puffy caught him easily, wrapping her arms around him as pure instinct. She stumbled back slightly under the body thrown at her, but it helped that he barely weighed a thing; was he even eating?

She let her jaw stay slack, the emotions bubbling inside her a mix of shock and fear. If she moved even a muscle, perhaps this would disappear. From a simple touch, she could see the fragility; one wrong move and this vulnerability would shatter in her arms.

She ached to hold him close, to shield him from it all and whisper that it would be okay. But it wouldn't. At least, not if he was the same person he'd proven himself to be time and time again. Her gaze drifted to the warden, unnerved confusion swimming in her eyes.

"Sorry to just spring this on you, Puffy," the creeper hybrid apologised, "have you ever heard of Dreamons?"