Pandemonium | Dream SMP

85. Out of everyone, it was always you...always...

This all feels like a bad dream. I wish it were. Because then at least I'd be able to wake up from it. But instead I'm forced to face the reality that we're on our way to kill Schlatt, like a twisted procession. The pain in my calf as I hobble along is nothing compared to the unbearable ache in my chest. If only time could stop.

"Do you want me to carry you?" Eret offers, his voice soft in my ear as he leans down to speak. He'd offered to aid me, and despite Wilbur's raised brow, he had agreed. Dream had initially been adamant about keeping me close, but naturally Wilbur was against it, instead choosing to separate us, keeping Dream by his side instead.

So now I trail along behind the crowd, my hands bound behind my back with rope, Eret's hand on my elbow as he does his best to keep me upright. Just behind me, Punz and Karl drag their feet, expressions defeated. I don't dare ask how they got caught, or if they're okay. I don't feel I have the right seeing as I was absent for the heart of the battle.

Sapnap is still unconscious, being carried over the shoulder of Techno just a few feet in front of us. A steady flow of blood drips from the corner of his bruised lips with every step the pigman takes. I may not have the best relationship with Sapnap, but seeing him so banged up makes me feel guilty. He must have fought hard.

"No, thank you," I whisper back, eyes dead as I drop them down to my boots. I don't want to acknowledge how close we're getting to Schlatt, "I'm surprised to see you here, Eret."

He gives a deep, dry laugh that in the past would have made me tingle all over. Now all I feel is vague discomfort. "That was the plan, but...I guess you could say that some things are more important than personal comfort."

My eyes flick up to his temples, where his crown used to sit, and it occurs to me the reason he isn't wearing it may be due to more than a wardrobe choice, "you lost your crown..." I murmur. It's not a question.

"Mm, the price of freedom," his eyes turn back to the front of the group and I follow them, finding Dream on the receiving end of Eret's stare.

Of course it's Dream. I'm not even surprised anymore.

"Urgh, why does it smell like sweaty bacon?"

My eyes shoot up in surprise. Sapnap is finally awake, his eyes foggy and bloodshot as he gazes around with confusion.

Techno snorts in amusement, continuing his steady march. I can't help the small smile that creeps over my lips as Karl pushes past me and up to the swaying male, gushing over him and stating his relief that his lover is okay—or as okay as he can be given the circumstances.

Too distracted with the lovebirds, I fail to notice that the procession has slowed, and when I turn my attention to our surroundings discover with a pang of dread that we're already within the grounds of old L'Manburg.

The sight of the caravan, with its broken windows and missing wheels, makes me want to be physically sick.

A hand is raised, and Wilbur calls for our halt. There's a discussion I don't hear, and myself along with the rest of the Manburg boys are pulled off to the side and pushed to our knees in the dirt. Eret is kind, and helps me sit so my injured leg lays straight out. The others are treated far less kindly. Sapnap is literally dropped on his side, a pained grunt escaping him, followed by a bloody cough and a very unkind slew of words, all directed at Techno. At least he's well enough to curse.

Dream, hands bound behind his back, kneels beside me. I sense he wants to say something, but no words are spoken between us. The tension is thick and tight, and it presses against my throat, ensuring that anything I do try to say would be short and forced. We have nothing to say to each other, both well aware of our predicament. No amount of encouragement or warmth can save us now.