Mhm | MCYT Oneshots

I Did This For You (2)

TW: Manipulation, threats, restraints

Not Requested

A/N: This is a CONTINUATION of last chapter, so it also contains SPOILERS for Wilbur's recent lore (June 6th)

 Wilbur watched Tommy go with fatigued eyes. He should be happy. He should be ecstatic. But the only thing he could feel was exhaustion. Everything hurt, his body still shaking from the constant adrenaline that had pumped through his veins.

He had done it, though. He had freed Tommy! Dream would never take advantage of his brother again. Not if he did it right. He smiled softly at the thought, the motion unfamiliar on his tired face.

"Hello, Wilbur." The happiness faded as quickly as it had come, swept away in the cold chills that came as an everlasting reminder of his time in limbo. He resisted the urge to shiver. Instead, he turned, his gaze level as he took in the lone figure of his brother's tormentor.

"Hello, Dream." The pair stared at each other, muddy brown meeting the lifeless dots of the mask as they assessed their opposite (though, they really were the same coin, no matter how much Wilbur tried to deny it). "I thought I told you to go home," the brunet stated, his voice emotionless. The blond chuckled at that, head tilting towards the ceiling, unconcerned, as Wilbur watched on.

"Walk with me."

"And, why would I do that?" Dream just smiled, turning towards the door in lieu of a response. And, for a second, Wilbur considered just watching him leave. He had no reason to follow, there was nothing that could be held over his head. But, call it old habits. He followed.

They trekked in silence for a bit, Wilbur refusing to show anything but perfect. He wasn't scared. He had no reason to be. Dream had no power over him, or anyone else.

(Then why does he act like he still holds all the strings?)

"Where are you taking me?" the brunet asked finally, stopping in his tracks as they neared the edge of the forest.

"Pogtopia."

Wilbur raised his eyebrows in surprise, "And, why is that?"

"We have unfinished business."

"Do we?" the man asked, crossing his arms incredulously. "Last I checked you have nothing over me." Before he could even think, there was something cold pressed against his neck, sharp metal digging into his throat as Dream leaned in, his breath hot in Wilbur's ear.

"You know Tommy's weakness —his attachment— was his discs." It wasn't a question. The man nodded anyway, his heart beating out of his chest as fear lodged itself in his veins, anxiety trickling over his body like cold water down a drain. "Well, you've always been a puzzle to me, never truly committing to any one thing" he trailed off, seemingly considering his words. "Or, person, that is." Wilbur didn't react, refusing to give Dream the satisfaction of even a semblance of response. "But now, I've realized!" His voice lowered, his tone dangerously quiet, yet excited all the same. "While Tommy's weakness is the discs, your weakness is Tommy!" He laughed, the sound short and sharp. "It's so obvious! I can't believe I didn't see it before!"

Wilbur's jaw clenched at the thinly veiled threat, and he resisted the urge to shove the man away. No use getting his throat cut out over some meaningless taunts.

"And? What do you want, Dream?" The blond smiled.

"You."

-

Niki watched with eyebrows furrowed as Wilbur and Dream walked —together— into the forest. It was almost infuriating, seeing someone who put himself forward as a new man, revert back to the same one he was before. She resisted the urge to scoff. What was she expecting anyway? It was Wilbur, the serpent in his tongue falsely filling the cracks he himself had made.

So, she looked on, ignoring the burning feeling in her gut, ignoring the strange wrongness that came with the hollow scene. The way Wilbur's back hunched, his thin arms wrapped around himself as he followed Dream silently, the snake sitting still in his silver lined mouth.

-

Goosebumps pricked at Wilbur's skin as the pair walked down the unrailed staircases slowly, the once lit lanterns swaying slightly in the eerie stillness of Pogtopia, as if haunted by the phantom movement from the times of Before. The brunet shivered at the thought, pulling his trenchcoat tighter around himself. He didn't like it here. He didn't want the reminders of all of his failures, the dark spiral that pulled everyone down with him (of Fundy).

Biting his cheek, the man considered running, bolting away before Dream even got the chance to react. "You're going to come with me, and if you don't." The blond paused, his breath hot against Wilbur's ear. "Well let's just say Tommy will take another impromptu trip to limbo." All motivation to escape died in Wilbur's mind. He would not run. He would not give Dream the satisfaction of another (unbeatable) test failed.

Soon, they came to a stop, the brunet's heart sinking in his chest as he realized where the man had taken him. The Pit. A crimson stain still ever present on the stone ground, another reminder of his shortcomings, of his desperate mind scrambling for a purchase of any kind (even if that meant sacrificing those above him, pulling them down, down, down).

Dream turned to him, a sickening smile on his half obscured face, "Get in."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Wilbur sighed, grimacing slightly as he jumped down, pain shooting through his body at the sudden impact. Turning back, the brunet's heart shot up in his chest as Dream placed obsidian around the entrance, finishing it up with an iron door, the button placed on the wall next to it. He was trapped. Fighting to stay calm, the brunet raised his eyebrows slightly, as if this was just a mild inconvenience, as if his entire body wasn't screaming at him to get out.

"What are you doing, Dream?

The man laughed, his head tilting slightly in amusement, "Really, Wilbur? I thought you were smarter than this!"

"Humour me, then."

"Well, there is just so much we don't know about the Revive Book, the processes involved." He took a breath, eyes scrutinizing him as if he was a bug under a microscope, nothing more than a rat to be experimented upon. Wilbur's heart sank. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. Dream smiled. "I was originally going to use Tommy, actually. But, now I've realized you're just more fun."

Wilbur scowled, resisting the urge to bang his fist against the window that the man had made out of iron bars, "You're sick, you know that?"

"Maybe, but it gets things done." The blond rifled through his pockets for a second, and before Wilbur could react, a potion was thrown at his feet. And it all went black.

-

When he next woke up, he was tied down, his arms and legs pulled tight against a chair. It was almost laughable how fake it all felt. There was no way this was happening. He was dreaming, right? Suddenly, there was pressure on his shoulders, and Wilbur jumped (or as much as he could, anyway).

"You're awake!" Dream exclaimed, his face (or rather mask) tilting into his peripheral. Wilbur swallowed. "You were out longer than I thought you would be." The brunet didn't ask how long that was, he had a feeling it wouldn't matter soon.

"What are you going to do with me?" His voice was dry. "You already know the book works."

"Yes, but we don't know what stays. Will Ghostbur come back? Will scars be left behind?" Dream's tone was gleeful. "What about injuries?" Wilbur's breath caught in his throat as the blond finally walked fully into view, a knife flipping in his hand.

"Dream," the brunet warned softly, his voice shaky. "What are you doing?"

The man smiled, wide and maniacal, "Testing a theory."