Switcheroo, Who? - A Dream SMP Fanfiction

Ch. 22: The Beginning Is.....

DSMP!Dream POV:

Sunlight streamed in through his window.

That seemed odd, given the fact that George's base was in the middle of a lush and crowded forest, but he wasn't focusing on the logistics of how the warm beams shone through.

Dream sat on a chair near the glass, staring blindly outside. He wasn't thinking too hard about anything, as his vision absorbed nothing and retained nothing. His head didn't hurt at least, thank goodness, from the mushroom brew last night, as he had expected a hangover.

If anything, he felt more alert, and that was weird. No kind of supposed alcohol made you more aware of your surroundings, unless it was a time-released by-product of some unknown psychidelic. Dream just couldn't recall having this same level of spacial awareness last night, hyper-clarity only being bestowed upon him now.

If he had cared just a little bit more about what was going on around him, Dream might have stopped himself from spilling his stupid guts to George.

The male focused instead on the light rays beaming through his window, watching them evolve and grow brighter in slow motion. Without his mask, he was able to see the light beams with his own eyes. He was able to take them in without any help or obstruction from his visage.

That felt right.

It felt right to not hide behind his mask in this moment, and just watch the natural world like everyone else did, if that made any sense.

The fatigue that tugged in his lower consciousness felt natural enough, as well.

It wasn't too strange, Dream's sleeplessness, in general. He went without sleep for weeks on end, experiencing hallucinations between torture and solitude. He'd heard somewhere that schizophrenia developed around the prime age range of one's 20s, so maybe that's what was causing him to feel as if old memories or people had come to life before him again.

Back in the prison, he was very used to his lack of sleep. Even before he was jailed, he never really gave into his need to rest often. He always had one eye open, carefully surveying the world around him all at once. He couldn't let his guard down at any time.

It was paranoid.

But it was normal.

Back then..... it had to be.

After last night, he could only foggily remember stumbling away from the fire and George. He ended up in his room somehow, and the starry sky passed by in a blur. He hadn't slept a wink, just thinking and brooding over things he couldn't recall minutes later.

How could he?

Today was the day.

Today....was the day.

And after everything, Dream didn't know if he was ready for what was coming.

After everything, he had never imagined that this might be how he died, what the big turning point in his destiny ended up being.

Not a single thought could override this one truth that was sealing his fate.

You've trained for this, Dream's hands were clasped in front of him, his arms positioned on top of his knees. You've spent days preparing, and you've spent much longer fighting wars and battles. You're smarter than all of them, even if they know more about everything here than you do. You could get killed today. You could win.

You could die.

You could win.

Dream had strictly decided a while ago to give up on explaining the dangers inside of this event to George. The Brit had only seemed confused by Dream's worries about dying; he had clearly been a bit too nonchalant with Dream's brief mention of revival and murder. The concept of killing someone or getting killed couldn't be brought to the other's attention in the way Dream wanted, and it was definitely too late to do so now.