Flashing Lights

3: The Mind's Prison

Dream arrived back at Sapnap's house to find Bad there as well. It wasn't surprising, since Sapnap's dad came around often, but Dream wasn't expecting either of them to be awake at that time. He'd spent the rest of the evening with Tommy in Logsted, meaning he missed dinner with his friends. Dream knew that Sap had probably told Bad about his rough morning, but it didn't matter.

As long as he kept up the charade, everything would be okay.

He said a quick good night to the two of them and settled in. He'd probably need to start paying rent for how long he'd be staying at Sapnap's.

'How much is rent in this boilin' cell?'

It felt too quiet, lying in bed, without the constant bubbling of the lava. It had been a constant for Dream during his time in the prison, constantly annoying but a constant nonetheless.

He rolled over onto his side, fiddling with the sleeve of his pajama t-shirt.

'You're getting tortured? That sounds like a you problem.'

He knew Techno struggled with empathy sometimes, but that was a dick move. It didn't matter that Dream was a tyrant, a monster, Techno was still his ally. His friend even. Torture wasn't something you'd dismiss as a 'you problem'. Techno was more sympathetic to Tommy, a kid who betrayed him, than his own ally.

'I will fucking kill you if you don't tell me where he is.'

And then Techno left him alone to deal with Quackity.

'Since Techno isn't here for me to return the favour, you'll do. And in front of everyone too!'

Dream died with a man on his chest, a pickaxe crushing his skull and crowd cheering as if he were an entertainment spectacle.

He looked up him, fear clutching his heart in his sharp, painful claws disguised as human fingers, as the man hefted the pick above his head. A weakness potion leaving his bones as heavy as iron bars, the harming potion eating away at the last specks of regeneration.

Dream lay on the ground, a hole in his arm where Quackity first struck, a hole in each of his kneecaps so that he couldn't run away, two boot clad feet standing on his broken hands. His mask had been ripped away months ago, leaving him open and helpless. The eyes never left him.

He didn't feel the pickaxe hit his head. Instead he felt the obsidian below his back. He had chains on his wrists and no holes. His prison jumpsuit was ratty and tattered, stained with blood and drenched in sweat. The identification tag on the inside of his shirt itched but there was no way to remove it.

The Warden was above him now. The eyes never left him. More boots on his hands, but no holes and no pickaxe, and more potions. He thrashed at the poison, and the weakness, and the harming, and the blindness. His voice wouldn't let him scream but it was still raw. He couldn't move, there was a lot of pain but no pain, no holes, he couldn't breathe, a hole in his throat, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe-

"Dream, hey, its okay. Its okay, Dream. I've got you. It's okay."

Dream sobbed for the first time since he escaped from prison, curled up in Bad's arms, with Sapnap at his side. He hadn't had a nightmare that bad in a while. When he was a kid he'd curl up, as he is now, in Bad's lap, the tall demon absolutely dwarfing him every time he did so.

He forgot how much he missed this. He forgot how much he needed this.

Bad rocked him back and forth until he could breath steadily, Sapnap held his hand the whole time.

"I'm- I'm sorry- I, I didn't mean to, I-" Dream was cut off by rhythmic shushing, soothing him.

"It's okay, Dream. It's not your fault." The blond nearly started crying again at the care that Bad's voice carried so effortlessly. He always been that way since he and Sapnap were young. Dream desperately wanted to be small again. To be too young to grasp the concept of war, or of torture, or of death.

He eventually fell asleep again, enveloped in two warm, breathing, living, friendly, familiar bodies.

When he woke up, it was 11am and the leftover smell of bacon wafted down the hall from the kitchen. Dream got dressed in his regular black long sleeve shirt, green hoodie and black pants, masked adorned on his face, before walking out.

"Morning sleepyhead. I put your breakfast in the container over there, you can heat it up in the furnace." Sapnap greeted, gesturing to the other side of the counter top. He didn't mention Dream's nightmare nor the panic attack he had afterwards, thankfully, but it would only be a matter of time.

"Thanks, I'll have it later. I'm not that hungry right now." Dream said, slipping on his netherite armour. His head was clearer than it was yesterday, so he didn't want to take his ADHD meds which required food intake.

He missed Sapnap's concerned glance as he grabbed the container and walked out the front door.

He was going to go see Tommy again later. Although he was no longer burning his belongings, he still wanted to watch what Tommy would do in his presence. Maybe Dream could even teach the younger blond some tips for parkour or pvp. That would help Tommy out and get him good guy points.

For now, though, he was going to meet up with Sam to discuss the prison situation.

Putting the container in his inventory, he made his way over to the section of land that Sam was using as the plot for the building. It was part of the Badlands' territory but he had been granted permission. It was in the stages of construction, Sam did always work efficiently. It was a shame that it would never finish construction in this time line.

The creeper hybrid was standing out the front, near where the entrance portal would have been. He was dressed in his netherite armour, which Dream didn't understand. How could anyone build massive structures in such dense armour? It would get heavy after a while and it would get all hot as well.

"Morning, Dream." Sam greeted. "Now, what's all this about?"

Dream dipped his head as he returned the greeting. "Good morning, Sam. It came to my attention a few days ago that the prison is unlikely to be needed as the situation I had planned it for has been dealt with. Its because of this, fortunately or not, that the prison is no longer going to be of use."

Sam grimaced. "Damn, I finished collecting all the materials too. That's a shame. I was honestly looking forward to seeing the build completed." He shook his head then looked back up at the masked man. "That being said, I'm glad this 'capable person' is not an issue anymore."

"Me too." Dream nodded, purposefully ignoring that he was that capable person. He gestured to the grand walls, his eye twitching when he was reminded of the day he escaped.

"Still, you've done a great job so far. You'll be getting full payment as promised for the work you've done. It's your choice if you want to repurpose the building or take it down entirely." He made sure that his voice remained neutral as he spoke. He didn't want to give Sam the impression that he preferred the second option.

Sam studied the project carefully, obviously considering what it could be used for. He sighed before glancing at Dream again. "I don't know what I'd use it for, or what anyone else would for that matter. I'll take it down."

Dream shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. "As I said, Sam, up to you."

Sam hummed in agreement. "So, where are you headed after this?" He asked.

"I'm not sure," He admitted. "I'm probably gonna wander around until I go see Tommy."

Sam stiffened. "How is Tommy by the way?"

"He's doing a lot better, actually. I've talked with him and Tubbo about ending his exile earlier than planned." Dream found it amusing how surprised Sam looked, even while wearing a mask that covered half his face. It was a stark contrast to his hate filled glare when he was the Warden.

The surprise gave way to mild happiness. "Oh, that's good. He must be doing well then. Tell him that I'll be glad to see him coming back sooner."

Dream gave him a thumbs-up and began walking back the way he came. "Will do, you can come by and visit him sometime if you're not busy. He'd be happy to see you."

Sam waved as Dream got further away. He turned off the recording app and saved the audio. What he told Tommy the day before was true; he always did record important conversations. He's sure it'll save his hide one day.