Aurora Borealis | Dreamnoblade

【ℝ𝕖𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕟】

TW: brief description of a panic attack

✧ Chapter 11 ✧

【ℝ𝕖𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕟】

They paced back and forth, their entire body practically vibrating in worry and excitement at the thought of seeing their mum and uncle figure. It had been so long, months since the two had left the SMP area in search of resources for—

X-Dee shuddered, refusing to finish that thought. Realistically, they knew it was just a building and it wasn't the fault of the building; it was supposed to be manned, supposed to be worked from the inside, it held no sentience.

But that didn't stop the terror that clawed and ate away at their insides at the thought of it. X-Dee didn't want to step anywhere near the area if that building was there, looming over the land in the distance. Taunting. A constant reminder of the months they had spent suffering.

"Dee," Ranboo reached out, hand enclosing around a wrist, bringing their pacing to a stop. They started shaking instead, "Easy. Just take deep breaths."

They did as their brother instructed.

"They'll be here soon, unharmed and completely safe, okay?"

They nodded, curling their fingers around Ranboo's to hold his hand. They lent forward, pressing their forehead against his shoulder. Ranboo's free hand came to rest on their shoulder, squeezing softly.

They are acting pathetic, they know this, but there was this...anxiety, this fear and urge to sob relentlessly that constantly stewed inside them, it felt like the only way to express what they were feeling inside. They don't want to be alone; they needed to know their loved ones were safe.

Months alone, solitary confinement, is classified as torture. Plain and simple.

Even the thought of being alone chokes them up, like a hand was wrapping around their airway. It's only Ranboo's presence, the feeling of his touch and warmth that grounds X-Dee.

They could have left that damn thing if only it hadn't been made of obsidian. Stupid fucking obsidian, why did it have to be some of the only material that existed that blocked magic? They could have left at any time, could have lived as Dream for longer if only Sam hadn't used—

"—e?" Ranboo's panicked filled voice filled their ears, but it was nothing more than buzzing in their ears.

Air refused to fill their lungs; white danced across their vision.

"Duckling," a voice cooed, one that broke through the haze, "Come back to us, sweetheart, you've gotta breathe for me, yeah?"

Mama?

Instinctively, their body inhaled, trembling uncontrollably. They did it again and then again until enough oxygen reached their brain, and it could begin working right once more. X-Dee slumped into Puffy's hold, a sob escaping, this time in relief, exhaustion was quick to chase them.

A hand combed through their long hair, brushing loose strands from their face.

"There we go," Puffy pressed a kiss to their temple, lips lingering as she nuzzled.

Sam crouched, reaching out and taking hold of one of X-Dee's hands, clasping it in both of his, brushing his thumb across their knuckles.

The distant glaze in X-Dee's eyes was slowly lost and Puffy reached out, taking hold of a worried Ranboo's hand, who was making quiet Enderman noises in his worry.

Patches shoves her way between Puffy and Sam, climbing into X-Dee's lap, snuggling close and began purring away in an attempt to comfort in one of the few ways she could.

X-Dee sucked in a breath; hand not being held by Sam sliding down to curl over Patches subconsciously. She purrs louder, vibrating in their lap.

They hid their face in Puffy's shoulder, embarrassment festering inside them.

"Hey," Sam's voice brings them the courage to lift their head, hesitantly meeting his gaze. Sam smiles softly, "We're here."

X-Dee tugs his hand close to their chest, right above their heart as their hand trembles still. They close their eyes, basking in the touch, the warmth and familiarity it brings to them.

At some point, all four move onto the settee Technoblade has. It's far too small for all four, but they make it work and quietly they just...talk.

Utters of love and affection, confesses of fear and confusion, of losing memories and how disorienting it is to have memories with fuzzy faces and distorted voices. How they feel lost and unsure, they whisper about the revive book, they speak of who they had seen in that strange place.

Puffy trembles, eyes watering at the mention of her brother. His ghost was here, but he only remembered so much. To possibly have him here physically...and that Wilbur's life won't be cut short either...

Sam feels a sense of relief, that Wilbur and Schlatt won't be stuck as ghosts. That they could wander out into the rain again, go outside without the worry of something happening.

After X-Dee had calmed and all the tears shed between all of them had dried up, Sam kneels before X-Dee, taking their hands in his, "I'm going to take it down," his words, the tone of voice—it's a promise.

They nod, but Sam isn't finished.

"And I want you to be there to destroy some of yourself."

"Sam, are you sure that's a good—"

He cut Puffy off with a reassuring nod and smile, "Sometimes, to start healing, you have to face your fears. The prison is a building, and as long as it stands there, Dee can't go anywhere near it without constant reminders. Destroying it...that knowledge and reassurance that it is no longer there, that it can't hurt you or anyone else anymore, can help."

X-Dee had wanted to flat out refuse, no, nope, never, but Sam's reasoning...The idea of ripping down the building that had caused them to suffer to its foundation felt right, victorious, felt...almost fulfilling.

"I want to," their voice is a whisper, and they squeeze Sam's hands when he smiles again, "But I don't want to do it as Dream. I wouldn't be able to do anything."

"Then tear it down as X-Dee," Ranboo sat forward, "That the End deity they all know about is going to have a hand in it...it'll make them wet themselves in fear."

There was a cruel smile that tugged at Ranboo's lips, X-Dee didn't have a problem mirroring that smirk as Puffy only huffs fondly and Sam begins to make mental preparations, a sense of vicious amusement filling him.