Switcheroo, Who? - A Dream SMP Fanfiction

Ch. 11: We're Not So Different

Manhunt!Dream POV:

Two days have passed.

Those two days each seemed like their own eternity, but Dream felt like everything was going too quickly. He couldn't tell how much time had passed back on his own server, much less imagine what might be happening there. For all he knew, the ManHunt had already happened, and his swapped counterpart could be royally screwed.

Or, perhaps, his own friends could be royally screwed.

Hopefully time works differently, and things are in slow motion back home, Dream foolishly wished, throwing a pebble out into the ocean. Maybe my friends know I'm gone, and they're coming to look for me.

Or maybe the other Dream doesn't want to come back.

Dream paused, his arm raised to skip the next stone on the glistening waters. The sun was setting, and the faint growls of nearby mobs probably coming to avenge their deceased relatives reached Dream's ears. It was time to head back to his own shelter, his revamped hideout, but he merely lowered his throwing arm and stared out across the horizon.

Something must have happened to Puffy's comms device in the banquet scuffle, because he'd heard nothing since.

Neither she nor Sam came to visit him.

He didn't dare try to reach either of them over the telecommunicative airwaves using his own functional radio, in case someone else heard.

He was stuck on that detached island that had served as another's traumatic exile.

...They all made it out fine, Dream looked down at the stone in his hands, rubbing his thumb over its rough surface. It looked like no one was really hurt, and they all found the exit I left them......Maybe they just haven't come because it's not safe yet.

Yes, that had to be it.

After all, some people must have been suspicious at Dream's invisible intervention.

He knew he had turned a few crucial heads upon his entrance.

Sam and Puffy definitely had to have known who was helping them. Tommy had been made aware of his presence, unfortunately, but that couldn't be helped. George and Bad looked as if they might be beginning to connect the dots, but didn't have the evidence or the mental investigative skills to piece it together just yet.

He just hoped that those five were the only ones really involved in his problem.

No one else really needed to be brought into the ''secret'' circle.

The others at that party won't care too much about who saved them, right? Dream tossed the stone lightly into the water, turning around and walking back towards Logstedshire's path.

He barely took five steps before it came back to hit him.

A small projectile was shot directly at his neck, sharply impacting on his exposed skin and dropping to the sandy beach floor. Dream's hand instantly went up to cover the attacked space, whirling around in alarm at the action. He stopped short, however, upon noticing something he had missed growing clearer on the horizon.

If he squinted hard enough at the blinding sun peeking halfway out across the vast sea, he could just barely make out a nearing boat.

A shaded figure was sitting inside the slow-moving vessel, one hand tasked with rowing and the other holding an apparent weapon. This must have been what was used to shoot at Dream. The male briefly looked at the hand that had went to massage his neck; no blood or broken skin came away on his fingers. The worst of it would maybe only turn out to be a bruise.