But Our Friend is a Dog // a Dream Team fanfiction

Chapter 3: Change

**Content warning: mild nsfw, mild gore, mild language, kidnapping**

~George~

"Dream, wake up!"

"Stop touching him!"

Sapnap and I shouted in defense of Dream as the medical assistant replaced the empty syringe into the briefcase, snapped the latch shut, and departed. The militia squad swooped in to untie Dream's ankle and wrist restraints; he did not react.

"The mighty Dream has fallen," Dr. Mendesa announced triumphantly. With a sweeping gesture, he waved a hand over our friend's unconscious body. "All it took was some serious canine anesthesia."

Leaving our side, the squad of militia surrounded the stretcher and rolled it away, exiting through the double doors to leave only Dr. Mendesa, Sapnap, and me in the room.

"Where are you taking him?" Worry for the anesthesia's purpose surpassed my relief that the injection was not deadly.

"You'll see," Dr. Mendesa responded vaguely. "My assistants are preparing him for the operation."

Sapnap and I trained our eyes on the double doors, watching intently for movement to signal our friend's return. The room remained silent as Dr. Mendesa's phone occupied his attention. Sapnap and I shifted in our chairs, helpless to do anything but wait.

Several minutes passed before medical assistants in white coats exited the double doors, pulling the stretcher between them. Initially, I did not realize that the naked man upon it was Dream.

"Oh my god, where are his clothes?" Sapnap exclaimed.

"We'll keep his belongings safe until he has a chance to get them back," Dr. Mendesa assured. Smirking, he added, "We'll even charge his phone." How considerate, I thought sarcastically.

Though Dream was unconscious and had no idea of his nudity, giving privacy seemed polite nevertheless. Sapnap and I glanced awkwardly at each other before lowering our gazes to where our feet shuffled on the tiled floor. The naked hostage did not daunt the medical assistants, however, as they unlocked the side door of the machine. Rolling Dream's stretcher inside, they lifted his limp body and placed it on the floor in the plexiglass cube's center. They exited, locked, and sealed the door.

Sapnap and I anticipated our friends demise as Dr. Mendesa approached the machine and ordered his assistants to pull levers, push buttons, check wires, and code the computer. Turning to us, the man reported with discernible passion,

"It's ready." As the assistants finished their work, Dr. Mendesa advised to Sapnap and me, "You might want to close your eyes."

A faint whirring emanated from the machine as it powered on. Dr. Mendesa sprinted out through the double doors with the assistants following, presumably to watch from another room.

Suddenly, the lights in our room dimmed. Perhaps a power generator redirected electricity to the machine, because as the lights shining in the bright white room went down, a light from inside the machine and grew. Brightening by the second, the plexiglass cube filled with blinding blue light.

Squeezing our eyes shut, Sapnap and I faced away. I groaned, wincing at the strength of the beam. Despite my intense worry and curiosity of what was happening to my friend, I could not physically bear to watch as it felt like the blue light pierced through my own flesh.

"What's going on? It's so bright!" Sapnap shouted to me, struggling to vocalize above the low rumbling and high-pitched whirring of the machinery.

"I don't know!" I shrieked. "I'm not looking!"