Bottom Dream Oneshots 2.0

No ship - Requested - That's not good enough. (Part 4 of 'He's a child?')

No ship (obv)
Requested by: RedcR1k3tt
TW:
- Child Dream go brr
- Dad Fit 
- Quackity gets punched :)
- Kind of angst? Idk
- I thought I'd try to get through all the non-smut requests as quickly as i could so here ya go
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Quackity sat down on the floor, staring at the two rings in his hand. He really fucked up this time, didn't he? He wiped away the tears that began to build in his eyes. It was all Dream's f- no. He had to fucking stop that! It was his fault, his own, nobody else's. It wasn't Dream's fault that he tortured him, it wasn't Dream's fault that he happened to be a kid, it was Quackity's fault.

He had to start accepting that. It wasn't Dream's fault that his two husbands just left him. Quackity shoved the rings in his pocket, holding his head tightly as he curled up on himself. Everyone else in the community house left, needing to think things over separately, alone, and most importantly, away from Quackity.

Quackity never moved from his spot on the floor, and nobody went back into the community house. Not until the next day. Quackity had apparently fallen asleep at some point, either that or he had lost track of time while staring at his knees. Fit returned with Dream by his side again, looking a lot less sickly than he had the day before.

"I told you to stay home Dream.." Fit mumbled, looking at the kid clinging to his side. Dream shook his head, not wanting to be left alone again. Plus, he wanted to know what would happen. He wouldn't think about how he wanted to see everyone again, well.. Almost everyone. Actually- scratch that, he wanted to see a few people.

Dream kept just behind Fit, not exactly wanting to see Quackity immediately. Maybe Phil would be there, or even Techno. Oh, he'd love to see them. Puffy would be nice to see, but he didn't want to talk to her. Not one bit. He had decided he never wanted to talk to her again when he saw that look of disappointment and hatred on her face.

Dream shuddered at even just the memory of it. He held Fit's hand as they went into the community house, looking straight forward. He hadn't put his mask back on since he took it off the day before- was it then? He couldn't exactly remember. He had shrunk back down to his actual height and his voice fit his appearance.

He looked around the area, seeing Quackity sitting in a corner, Phil standing in the middle with Wilbur, and the bench trio in another corner, still wary. "Now. I've given you your time, tell me why the fuck age matters when it comes to torturing my son." Fit picked Quackity up, forcing him to stand.

Dream went to stand with Phil, not risking the possibility of getting hurt again. Quackity looked up at him, dried tear tracks on his cheeks and dark eye bags under, well, his eyes.

"Because he doesn't know what he's doing if he's young? I don't know!" Quackity tried, getting hit in the face in response. Quackity couldn't blame Fit, he tortured the guy's kid! He was surprised he wasn't already dead or even tied to a chair of some kind. "Try again." Fit punched him every time Quackity said anything, disliking every answer.

He let go when the man had blood all on the bottom half of his face, letting him collapse to the floor. "You're lucky I don't want my kid to see more violence." Fit took a deep breath before walking over to Dream, ruffling his hair. "Let's go home." Dream nodded slightly, grabbing his father's hand and following him out. 

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<3<3