(Requests are closed :[) MCYT Agere One-Shots!~

Poor Baby Boy (Little!Dream, CG!Sam) (REQUEST)

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!!starvation, mentioned blood, crying!!

Setting: DreamSMP
Summary: Dream's mental health has been deteriorating in the prison. It's inevitable that Sam notices.

hey, if i wrote hermitcraft chapters, would you read them? i've been getting into the series recently..and i have some ideas >:]
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Every day, Sam would visit. Walk into Dream's cell, watch him eat his potatoes, read his books, then leave. He had other things to do, Dream shouldn't need much else than that, right? That's what Sam tells himself, at least.

But then he notices; Dream is getting worse and worse, every passing day. He stops eating his potatoes, instead throwing them into the lava and watch them turn to ash, to just watch the lava pop and fizzle. His books begin to fill up with ineligible entries, stained with something that flakes off onto Sam's fingers, red and rusty. Page after crumbled page of frantic scrawl, the occasional doodle of a knife or matchsticks in between. There are pages missing, torn out in erratic motions - Sam later found out that Dream had been tearing them into bits and then shoving them into cracks in the walls or floor.

So that was...concerning, to say the least.

So, on this Thursday evening before Sam left for the night, he just sighs when he lets the lava fall and sees that Dream is curled up on his bed, trembling and hiding his face in his pillow. I guess I'm not leaving yet. Kneeling down by the side of the bed, Sam still stays wary; even if Dream is much smaller than him - his 7'3 (2.18m) to Dream's 6'2 (1.88m) - if he catches the warden off guard, he might be able to escape.

Sam would not allow that.

Still, he softens a bit when Dream flinches away from the warden's hand, fingers barely brushing his quivering shoulder. "Dream?" He says softly, "Hey, what's going on?"

The sandy blond rolls over, giving Sam free view of his teary face. "Why dos eveyfing I touch gos bad?" Dream whimpers, "Don' wan ta be bad, daddy."

Sam feels his heart melt, then crack as Dream stares at him with sad, tired eyes. There's a bruise ringed around on of those sad green eyes; how did never notice? "You're not bad, duckling," he tells him on a soft sigh, "You just get confused, that's all." At the familiar nickname, Dream perks up. When Sam sets his hand in the blond's hair, he nuzzles against it. Sam smiles. This wasn't the tyrant who'd caused wars just for the sick fun of it; no, this was the sweet (if mischievous) boy he'd helped Puffy raise. The boy who took his blanket everywhere because he got nervous easily, who would make his friends so many friendship bracelets that their whole arms would be covered. Sitting up on the bed now, Sam pulled him into his lap and set his chin on the little's head. Immediately, he frowns. "You're so skinny, duckling. When did you eat last?"

Dream tenses, and tears prick his eyes again. "Du-Dunno," he stutters, sniffling softly and hiding his face in Sam's chest. "Don be angy, pease..?"

"I'm not mad, baby," Sam assures him and kisses the top of his head. "But I want you to eat something, okay? Just a bit of a potato and some water, okay?" he mumbles into blond hair. Dream hesitates for a moment, but nods. Sam smiles again and rubs his sides, making the little giggle.

Safe to say that Sam would be staying late a fair few times this week.
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sorry this took so long!! i've been so busy :[

finally got an official adhd diagnosis so my mom can't ignore it anymore :D

ok, bye bye!

(622 words)
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