Archive of Our Own

It's been a while since Dream last visited his friends. Or his friends visited him.

Well, it's not like Dream blamed Ink and Swap. They were a team, but they all also had their own friends and jobs and… all that that mattered much more than Dream.

Ink was the Protector, the eyes and the hands of the Creators, he was busy most of the times. And he had a few friends, Swap, Core and Cross, to pay attention to.

Swap still had his Underswap and all the monsters and humans in it. He had a family, he had frightening amount of friends and he had a job as a volunteer in the Omega-Timeline.

And then there's Dream. He doesn't do anything unless he's fighting with Nightmare (with his own brother). He doesn't help people like he used to when he was a kid and a few years after his freeing from stone. He doesn't have hobbies like everyone else (well, he does try to read books or craft sometimes, but it's not like he's any good in it). He doesn't even clean his home properly.

Most of the times he just sleeps in the abandoned house on the edge of the Omega-Timeline.

But not this time.

Dream was sitting on his bed, his legs crossed and covered in his blanket, his head turned to the window as he looked at the Omega-Timeline somewhere far away.

It was the end of the day when the sun was falling from the sky to the horizon slowly.

Ink and Swap hadn’t met Dream in several days. In… five days to be honest.

Once again, Dream didn't blame them for anything, and especially for not remembering about him. Dream did know that they both had best friends who weren't him, so he supposed that this was okay. He should've did.

But… he didn't really.

It was embarrassing and guilty to admit it, but Dream felt really bad about it. He knew he wasn't right.

Swap was older than him. And Ink was older than Swap. They already existed before Dream was born.

And they already had their friends before they met him.

But still. Dream felt abandoned.

Dream felt bad.

Dream felt like nothing would change if he didn't exist.

He fell down on his bed and wrapped himself in his blanket. He couldn't even cry because he was too out of strength to do so.

'Nothing would change if I didn't exist,' the thought echoed in Dream's mind. His body felt numb in some way. Like he was a ghost instead of a monster. Was that what dissociation felt like? Well, it didn't matter after all.

…He wondered what really could happen if he just… cutted out his existence?

Would anyone be upset?

Would someone miss him?

Or nobody would even know he's gone.

Nightmare would probably be glad because his stupid selfish twin finally died.

And it's not like his death would do anything to the balace. Dream knew that. Well, he supposed so. It didn't make any sense if the balance would get unstable, because Dream wasn't that important.

He was just a guardian, not, like, some God of Positivity. Positive emotions don't depend on him. He just watches after the balance and tries to get more or less positivity when it's needed.

So…

Dream doesn't think that the Multiverse will change in any way if he just… disappears.

The last question was always the pain, but… Will that pain hurt more than the pain Dream is in for the last few years?

He didn't know.

But unlike a few years ago, now he was genuinely unsure.

…It got a bit stuffy in the house.

Dream sighed wearily and slowly got out of his bed. He hesitated for a while, thinking if he could take the blanket with him or not. Dream looked at the piece of fabric and couldn't let it stay here. He finds it at least a little comforting to wrap himself in this blanket. So Dream put it on his shoulders before he opened the window to go out of the house.

Dream then landed on the grass easily and walked a bit around his home to find a place to sit.

He sat on the bare grass and leaned on the wall of the house when he found a corner where he could watch the sky getting more and more golden.

The trees around Dream were silent, but in a soothing way.

The air was cool as always in the evenings.

Actually, Dream didn't know why he was doing this. Why he was sitting here and watching the nature. Why he was here in general.

He already decided what he'll do. He decided this years ago to be honest.

So why he was still here? He should go and do the thing. Well… Nobody said that he couldn't just do it here. Dream hesitated for a moment.

He definitely won't do it right in the house, but…

Dream pulled one of his draggers out of his inventory. It was pretty sharp.

Dream ran his thumb along the edge of the dragger. Cold metal.

He noticed that his hands were shaking.

Dream took a deep breath.

Then he summoned his 'soul'. The shining golden fruit.

He wasn't important.

He wasn't someone's family.

He wasn't useful.

Ink and Swap won't miss him much.

Nightmare will be happy.

No one else won't care.

Dream pointed his dragger on his soul.

His hands were shaking so badly he thought for a moment that he could miss.

One move and he'll be dead.

It'll be just a second or two when he could feel pain, but then… then that all will be over.

Dream felt chill when the tip of the dragger pressed against his soul.

A sudden noise somewhere from behind scared Dream. His soulbeat, already too fast, got even faster. Dream realized he was hyperventilating.

"Dream?" someone called from the window of his house. Dream instinctively turned to the side where the call came from only to see someone's face looking out of the window.

It was Swap.

And then other face appeared. "Oh, here you are, mon ami!" Ink said, smiling as a greeting.

Dream was terrified. He felt like he just became a stone statue because he couldn't force himself to move, to at least hide the fucking soul and a blade in his trembling hands.

His entire body got cold as if he teleported to the coldest Snowdin in the Multiverse.

Ink simply jumped out of the window, Swap following him as he waved to Dream. "Hi, Dream!"

A moment later they both stopped.

Dream watched in dread as Swap's calm smile slowly faded away.

They noticed. The saw it.

"Dream, you… wh… what are you…" Swap spoke cautiously as he and Ink froze looking down at Dream.

"Oh mon Dieu, what were you doing with a knife?" Ink gasped fearfully, straightforward as always. He fell on the ground next to Dream, his pale-green pupils looking at the dragger, then the soul, then Dream and then again at the dragger.

Swap sat down too and slowly put his now cold hand on Dream’s shoulder.

Dream was paralyzed.

He couldn't even make a sound, he couldn't even make at least one of his magical muscles move.

But he needed to say something. He had to explain.

To reassure them, to tell them that it's not what they think it is.

"…Please don't ask any questions," he whispered instead, his voice shaky and dry. "Dream…" Ink called, but Dream didn't look up at him.

He just couldn't. Not with his soul and dragger in his hands. It was too late to hide the evidences.

"We won't," Swap quickly agreend on that. "Just… Breathe please," he moved his hand from Dream’s shoulder to his chest where his magical lungs were hyperventilating themselves. Dream already felt numb.

"Hey, look at me," Swap asked gently, his voice trembling as if he's about to cry. He probably was.

Dream felt his hands got empty as Ink carefully took his soul and the dragger out of his grab. He then heard Ink throwing the dragger a bit away as to not let anyone look at it ever again.

"It'll be okay, Dream. Just look at me, please," Swap repeated, worried and scared. But Dream didn't dare to look up at him.

"Dream, this is really important," hand on Dream’s chest started patting him gently where his soul usually soars. Dream tried his best and took a quick glance at Swap.

His face made Dream’s soul hurt.

He had to. He had to look. And he did.

Swap tried to smile. It turned out too nervous.

"Thank you. You did good, Dream. Now please do everything I say, okay? Just focus on me and nothing else. I'm going to instruct you how to breathe, okay?" Dream nodded compulsively.

"Okay, so right now take a deep slow breath through your nose. Just like me," Swap showed how to do that properly. Dream tried his best to repeat. It was pretty awful.

"Okay, it's good, so now just hold it for a few seconds," Dream repeated. It was like he was sinking.

"Ye, just like that. Now you should let it out slowly through your mouth, okay?" Swap did as he said and Dream mimicked.

"You're doing great, Dream," Swap smiled soothingly, his hand patting Dream’s shoulder again. "Now we're going to do this again."

And they did it again. This time it was a bit easier for Dream to repeat properly.

And then they did this again. And again.

And once more, so that Dream would be fully stabilized.

And when they were done, both Ink and Swap almost fell on Dream, hugging him and squishing him a little, Ink letting Dream’s soul go where it belongs. Dream took his hands out of the hug to take the others' arms where he was able to.

After a few minutes of silence, Ink tried to say something, but he failed. Dream curled up a bit awaiting questions, but then Ink spoke.

"It's not… not like I'm 'asking questions', Im…" he begins, his voices shaking, holding up tears. "I'm just scared. What if someday you… you will try to… do the same… and -and we won't be here in the right time to… stop you?" Ink sobs quietly, his skull nuzzling against Dream’s.

Dream looked down at the ground in guilt. In fact, this wasn't his first attempt…

The first time was a year ago, but Dream just couldn't say if it really was an attempt or just him being slow and stupid. That time he didn't move when a bone attack was thrown right at him.

It was really painful. It took Dream several months to recover, because the attack pierced him under his collarbone. Just a little above his soul.

So… Dream didn't think that if Swap and Ink were with him, he won't die someday. He couldn't say that to them. So he just didn't answer.

Swap sighed heavily, pulling Dream closer as he started sobbing quietly. "We don't want to… to lose you," he whispered as he reached out to wipe his tears.

"We love you, we don't want you to be dead," Ink agreed, trying to not hyperventilate too.

Dream couldn't say a word. Well, actually he was thinking about something.

He didn't really ever ask his friends if they even consider him as his friend or not. He was too scared and embarrassed to do so. His psychiatrist told him to ask when he has such kind of questions, but… it was too hard most of the times.

But suddenly Dream realized that… he was ready to ask at least one of his questions.

The one that bothered him the most. He just had to take his time to do it.

"You…" he started after a while, his throat felt like desert. The others seemed to listen to him carefully.

"Do you… Am I your… friend?"

"Of course you are!" both Ink and Swap answered at the same time. Dream almost jumped in surprise, shocked.

Ink let go only to look Dream straight in the eye sockets as he put his hands on Dream’s shoulders to shook him a little. "You are my very best friend! Just like Swap and Core and Cross!"

"Yes, and you are my best friend too," Swap said, wiping his tears again and again. "You're part of my life. The really important part. You were here in my happy moments and in my bad moments… And… we know we weren't here in many yours, but that only means that we will be in the future," Swap takes a few breaths to calm himself down a bit.

"I know it's a long work you have to do to recover… But please. Please don't give up," Swap took Dream’s hand and wrapped it in his. "You're already doing great and I'm really really proud of you," his voice cracks as he starts crying again. Dream couldn't blame him. He and Ink were almost crying too. Dream just didn't have enough strength to.

"A few years ago I heard one of the Creators thinking about… existential stuff. They said that… that… that suicide is like an exit door. You can always quit at any time. But… But if do so, you won't see if life will change. If you'll feel better. If… If you'll eventually have the strength to keep going," Ink almost whispered, nuzzling back into Dream and hugging him tightly.

Dream was silent. He just took Ink’s arm with his free hand while Swap held the other. Well, both Dream and Ink were 'touchstarved sillies' as Swap called them often. But he was totally okay with that.

So they all just sat like that for a while.

The sun was right above the horizon, painting the sky in warm orange and purple.

"Dream," Ink called quietly. "You know… The reason why we… visited you was… Actually… Well, if you won't mind…"

"We wanted to invite you on a movie night today," Swap smiled sheepishly as he huffed in relief.

Dream felt a comforting warmth in his soul, his eye sockets getting wet once more. He simply nodded in agreement with a small crooked smile on his face.

It was like he had a whole Ebott mountain on his shoulders and now it was gone.

The weight was partially gone (because Dream knew it will return. Healing was a long process, he won't be okay in just one evening, and this was okay).

It was gone, but Dream wasn't. He was still here. After his 512 years of life (well, 22 years mentally). And he was not alone. He was a best friend for his two best friends after all!

"Is he really that stupid or what…" Nightmare sighed in tiredness as he rubbed his face with his free hand. The other one was holding his soul.

Nightmare could sense his brother's soul stabilized after a while since he was monitoring it. Good. So he didn't really kill himself.

Nightmare hated to admit how his own soulbeat was fast when he suspected something worrying in his brother's aura. It was so much relief that Dream didn't know about how they could feel each other, because… because…

Damn it, Nightmare just was glad he could know if Dream was okay! Are you satisfied, conscience?

Anyways, Nightmare could go back to reading now that everything was alright, so he was just going to focus on his book.

"I'm going to kill him when we meet the next time…" but his voice was too soft to sound like a threat.

Just. Go. Back. To reading.

Nightmare sighed once more, letting go of his face as he looked down at his book.