I Can't Remember

[13] A Revelation And A Guiding Hand

"You–" Wilbur stopped himself. He looked around cautiously. Tommy and Tubbo were in each other's arms, comforting Tommy. Ranboo sat close by. Eret and Dream sat on opposite ends of the sofa, leaning forward. He looked in his lap. Little Michael was sleeping, body wrapped in Wilbur's beloved brown coat, only head visible. He took a deep breath.

He could do this. He could do this. He could– he couldn't do this. He could not do this. He– he had to, right? He had to. Wilbur threw another glance at Tommy. His brother. He owed Tommy this much. It was the least he could do.

Sparing a final glance at Tommy, he spoke, "You didn't heal Sapnap. You– he wasn't hurt. He was dead. You didn't heal him, dream, you revived him."

Silence filled the room. Ranboo jerked his head upward and Michael, now awake, ran upstairs, taking the hint. A light choking noise could be heard. Wilbur was vaguely aware of Tubbo pulling Tommy off the sofa in a different room.

Shit.

He shouldn't have done this.

Wilbur saw Eret's face. Their disbelief. Their face. They slowly turned towards Dream. Ranboo looked on edge, like he expected Eret to pounce on Dream the second Wilbur's words clicked in their mind. Wilbur turned. He took in Dream's face, choosing to ignore the anxiety and agitation suffocating the room.

Dream had stopped midway from eating a cookie. His hand was raised to his mouth, which was slightly open. His bright green eyes were widened in shock, which, mixed with his messy hair, gave the young blond a manic look.

Dream raised his eyes, still widened, to meet Wilbur's fearful brown ones through Wilbur's curls. Wilbur could not comprehend the extent of Dream's emotional turmoil, but he had a feeling it was better not to pry.

"I... healed him," Dream said, voice shaking.

"No, Dream, you revived him," Wilbur said. His voice was ever so soft, as if anything above a whisper would break Dream's stupor.

It was hard to hate the man. The only common aspect of the monster he once knew and the man he saw now was the face. Everything else, from his body language and demeanor, to his dominant and threatening aura, had completely changed. It was as if the old Dream had never existed.

"I... saw his body heal. If I truly did anything at all, it was heal. Not revive. Never revive. I– I don't– I can't– I don't have the revival book, I never owned it, I don't even know what it is, let me go, please– I'll do whatever you ask, anything, anything, please, Quackity, please, please, I'm sor–, I'm sorry, it won't– it won't happen again, please, no, please don't do this, Sam, Sam– SAM! SAM, HELP M–"

Dream's ramble was cut off by Eret, who p̶u̶s̶h̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶l̶i̶p̶s̶ slapped their hand against his mouth. They shook with anger, though Wilbur found it increasingly difficult to determine whom it was directed towards.

(for once, Wilbur realised why his loyalties always switched. Why he always 'betrayed' the people on this server made it extremely difficult to stay loyal to them, what with their violent dispositions and questionable moralities.

He saw his old self, the tensions high in the air, countries on the edge of war, the war of independence, and he saw Eret seeing only one way.

He finally saw why Eret had turned the tides the way he did. After all, hadn't it turned in their favour, in the end? Hadn't they gained the freedom they longed for? Yes, at the cost of many people's lives, but what is war without a few casualties? Unfortunately, nothing. No war goes without 'collateral damage, even if it was the lives of all his soldiers– friends, their country, their trust. Eret had sacrificed it all for their freedom.