How to Establish Your Gang and Take Care of the Children in It (On Hiatus)

Rule 33: For the Last Time. Personality. Brother. Jackass.

You couldn't do anything.

Don't feel bad, little light. There wasn't anything you could do.

But in any real situations you're useless! We get it! Go be a lawn decoration somewhere else, ya glorified dress up doll!

Dream groaned, rubbing his eyes. He was not going to cry. He was not. Not over a random skeleton he didn't even know. He would not break down over a situation out of his control. There was literally nothing he could have done, not in an AU with only negative emotions.

What if he dies? A voice in his head argued. He was a person, with a life and hopes and dreams. You can't just brush that off. You should have helped. You should have tried. You're the Guardian of Positivity, aren't you? What happened to protecting the people of AU's?

There was nothing to do! Dream protested, gritting his teeth against the tears bubbling up inside him. None of my magic would have worked!

So? The voice challenged. You just gave up! You could have tried! But you're just a coward, who's afraid of ruining his perfect reputation. Can't ruin anything if you simply never try, huh?

"That isn't true," Dream muttered, gritting his teeth. "It wasn't my fault."

Slowly, the guilt ebbed away, replaced by a bit of dread and a dull, aching exhaustion. Better. He could attempt to be happy while internally wanting to cry.

Dream gave himself a moment to get composed and under control, then opened the door of the Star Sanses' base, attempting a grin.

Blue was pacing in the living room back and forth, glancing up occasionally at the staircase to the bedroom hall with worry. Dream exhaled softly, letting go of his obviously fake smile. Thankfully, there were no guests here to entertain. Blue must have gotten rid of the last bunch of Sanses in the time they were gone.

"Dream!" Blue cried. He ran over to the golden skeleton and hugged him. "You're back!"

"Hey, Blue," Dream said tiredly. "I- OW!" He yelped, as Blue pulled away and kicked him in the shin.

"You bastard!" Blue snapped, throwing his hands in the air angrily. "You just left me here to play house with the damn Mafiatale group alone! I didn't join you and Ink to be a receptionist, Dream! I came to help people and protect them! Just because I like cooking doesn't mean I signed up to be a fucking housemaid!"

Great. Another thing to be guilty about. Dream glanced away, folding his arms over his chest.

"I'm sorry, Blue," He said. "But you know how Ink-" He broke off for a moment, Ink's actions coming back to him at full force. "You know how h-he is. I couldn't- I couldn't let him go alone without some s-sort of voice of reason. I wish you'd been there, Blue, I really do. But when it comes between leaving you alone or letting Ink go off on mismatched paints, I can't let him get hurt while his emotions are so dangerously unbalanced."

Blue hesitated, glancing up at the bedrooms again. "Fine," He admitted finally. "You're right. I'll let you off the hook this time- as long as you give me a full story of what happened, because you look like you've been hit with a truck, and Ink looked like his best friend just died. I'll go make something for the headache you have- don't try to play it off, I can see you're in pain- and you should probably go talk to the goldfish-brain, yeah?"

Dream tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. Right. Talk to Ink. Who had just pretty much murdered someone less than ten minutes ago. That would definitely go well.

"And I retain full right to slap you both in the face if you ever abandon me again, y'hear?" Blue called as Dream moved to the staircase.

Dream gave a small chuckle- more out of obligation than humor- but his smile faded as he approached Ink's room. He stood in front of the paint-splattered door for a few moments, then took a deep breath and walked inside.