Pandora's Vault / Box / Jar (A Dream SMP and Reader Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Seven

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A tired and somewhat annoyed sigh escaped (Y/N)'s lips when they heard the cracking of a few branches on the ground.

"Why could I have seen this coming?" They asked into the darkness and looked down from their treehouse. On the bottom stood a scared and startled Ranboo that hadn't expected to see them here.

"Get your ass up here, tall man!" They yelled down at him whilst pointing at the ladder. The half-enderman followed their instructions and climbed up the dark tree.

The moonlight was shining down on the two while the treehouse and the tree's thick branches kept them safe from snow and wind.

"So, you couldn't sleep?" (Y/N) asked as they took a sip of their drink and then put the bottle down on the floor next to them again.

"No, no, not really," Ranboo answered and sat down on the floor in front of the smaller one when they patted the floor in that spot. "Nice particles you got there," they said, trying to change the topic.

"Thanks... I actually don't know where they are coming from - they just show up out of nowhere and make a little bit of light," Ranboo told them before flinching in fright. A ghost was suddenly phasing through the treehouse's floor.

"Dear gods, Ghostbur, don't scare me like that," the half-enderman sighed, still holding on to his coat. "So he's been telling the truth?" (Y/N) asked before Ghostbur could even greet Ranboo, "This is the ghost of Wilbur Soot?"

"Yeah, who else should he be?" Ranboo asked confused. "Exactly! Who else should I be?" The ghost now asked as well.

"You just... aren't like the Wilbur I knew, I guess," (Y/N) said while once again grabbing their flask. "To change this topic," Ranboo said after some weird silence, "what is this place?"

"It's a treehouse!" Ghostbur answered happily, "I hang out here all the time when nobody has time to hang out with me."

"Correction: It's my treehouse," (Y/N) said, putting down the bottle, "I used to come here all the time when the shit in the SMP or L'Manburg got too confusing to keep up with.

Or when I just wanted to get wasted without Wilbur competing with me over which one of us could down more bottles in one night." They chuckled at the last part.

"He never had a good tolerance for alcohol, so I always won," they told the other two while cracking a smile.

"Do you miss the old Wilbur?" The ghost asked, "Because if you do, then I'm sorry, but I won't let anybody bring him back!"

"How would anyone even do that?" (Y/N) asked in a tired voice, "This isn't some fantasy story in which we have the power of bringing people back to life...

On the other hand, you are a ghost, and I haven't seen one of those either, so I guess anything can happen... And yes, I guess I do kind of miss him. I never got to say goodbye to him and... well, some other things... And the fact that I just said that in such a sentimental way is highly unusual."

"How come?" Ranboo asked, cuddling himself deeper into his coat as his particles danced around the empty wooden room. "Wilbur was one of the few good friends I had, and I was an absolute asshole towards him,

which explains why Ghosty over here doesn't remember anything about me... Yeah, now that I think about it, he and Eret were the only people that were genuinely close to me," (Y/N) said, "well, Techno and Phil too, in some way.

Even though Phil and I never really met but we got to know each other through Wilbur. Techno, on the other hand... Well, our first meeting was complicated, to say the least, but he was an asshole for the time after we met...

The damn withers almost ate me alive for all I remember... But Eret and I - we were partners in crime, we were actually best friends!"

They stopped. Their gaze wandered towards the ceiling, and they chuckled, "God, I'm getting all mushy from that alcohol."

"I told you that you shouldn't drink it," Ghostbur said in a scolding manner, "alive I only made bad decisions when he got drunk, or else I would remember them."

"That's called blacking out," (Y/N) told him, "But yes, Will wasn't always responsible when it came to drinking - why else do you think he blew up L'Manburg?

Only because of the deal with Dream or the fact that he was insane? Nope, Will and I drank the entire morning before the revolution together.

And it was my idea too because I wanted to make it up to him... I was a fucking moron for bringing that up." "Oh, I get it now," Ranboo said, "you came here because you felt guilty for Wilbur's death."

"Wow, congratulations, tall man, do you want a prize for coming to that astonishing conclusion?" (Y/N) asked in a sarcastic tone before draining the bottle of its last drop of liquor, "Shit like that doesn't just leave you, you know?

I'm a criminal, and I did terrible things, but Will was like a brother to me and even when I was sitting in my filthy cell this one morning was one of my only regrets."

They looked at him with a serious look in their eyes. "You see Ranboo, they put me into this cell for causing Schlatt's demise, for testing drugs on unknowing people, keeping them locked up and hurting them, for drug abuse, destruction of public property, helping someone betray L'Manuburg, mass murder, and torture.

But the one crime I would never have argued against was the murder of my brother," they told him without breaking eye contact. Saying all of those things simply because they felt guilty,

not because they were the actual reason Wilbur was not with them anymore. "Wait, you were my sibling?" Ghostbur asked after what felt like a minute of silence.

"No, but we were almost like siblings, if you had paid attention to what I said earlier," (Y/N) said, now looking at the ghost. A yawn escaped their lips when they let their head rest against the wooden wall once again.

The moonlight that reached them through the small gaps between the branches made this moment seem like a magical reunion, but the moment wasn't that magical to anyone of the trio.

"Hey, let's play a game of cards when we're already all together!" Ghostbur offered and pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket,

"Have you heard of competitive solitaire?"

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1105 words

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ To be continued ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰