Chapter Text
Dream noticed that Tommy hadn't been eating much, these past few days.
Sure, it might've been because of the fact that he had been recently exiled by his own best friend. Maybe it just sealed his appetite or something.
But he had a feeling it wasn't just that.
Really, he had been trying to feed Tommy. He brought steak, baked potatoes, stew, anything he could cook without wasting ten hours at the same time—yet still, nothing. The teen would eat it, and would still look famished by the next day.
It was frustrating Dream to an extent that bordered on insanity. He didn't like not knowing things that were directly right in front of him. Such as how Tommy had been studiously avoiding looking at him for the past thirty minutes.
“Tommy, you're gonna have to look at me eventually,” Dream said dryly as he chopped up a piece of firewood for Tommy to use.
Earlier, he had seen Tommy shivering his ass off. And despite the teen's colorful words of how he was the biggest man of all and did not need a dickhead like Dream to get him firewood, Dream didn't want him to turn into a popsicle.
It was nearing Christmas, after all.
Tommy bristled at Dream's words, still looking at the ground. The jacket Dream had given him—Dream's jacket—made him look smaller than he actually was.
“I don't need to,” he sniffed, hugging his knees tighter to his chest.
Dream felt a pang of annoyance, but forced it down. He didn't need L'Manburg breathing down his neck if Tommy's death message popped up in the server chat. He took a deep breath, before throwing the chopped fire wood in Tommy’s direction.
“Fine, then,” he snapped, yanking his jacket off of Tommy in the hopes it’d get him to look up. “Don’t look at me or whatever the hell you want.”
Surprisingly, it worked. Tommy’s head snapped up, eyes widening as he noticed that Dream was about to leave. “NO! No– Dream, Big D– I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, hand already yanking out to grip Dream’s sleeve.
...His grip was far too strong for Dream’s liking. How did he maintain his strength while looking like he hadn’t eaten since the start of the server?
Dream cocked his head, huffing. He tried to yank his wrist out of Tommy’s grip–(-he could get Tommy to depend on him emotionally. He could—)–only to freeze when Tommy’s grip didn’t falter. Dream stared down at where Tommy’s hand was holding onto his sleeve and tugged experimentally.
The fabric stretched. Tommy’s grip just grew tighter. Dream frowned. “Let go,” he demanded. He watched the panic in Tommy’s eyes grow, and had to stop himself from smiling in glee. He didn’t really need to do anything, after all. The teen seemed emotionally dependent on him by now.
“I- Please, Dream– You can’t just- just leave me here alone!” Tommy desperately tried to plead. He didn’t think he’d ever use the word “Please” when it came to Dream.
Just how much had exile fucked him over?
Dream stared at Tommy for a few seconds, assessing him. If he left now, there was no doubt Tommy would lose his mind. But it would mean that Tommy would get more attached to him, and Dream did want that.
Unfortunately, he did want the teen’s mental health in one piece though. He can’t have both at the same time. Sighing, he forced himself to relax, body shifting slowly towards Tommy like he relented to stay.
“Okay, fine,” he scoffed. “Can you let go now?”
Tommy eyed him warily. Okay, so the teen didn’t trust him enough to believe his words. And Dream had just been contemplating staying longer just for his mental health. Wow, talk about hypocrisy, especially since Tommy had basically begged him to stay.
Eventually, though, Tommy hesitantly let go of Dream’s sleeve, and stepped back a bit. He sat back down on the log he had been sitting on previously, Dream letting out a quiet puff of air.
He reached forward and grabbed the firewood, yanking his jacket back off and carelessly throwing it to Tommy. The younger caught it instantly, immediately wrapping it around himself.
“So much for not being cold,” Dream commented, voice dry as dust, as he began lighting up a fire. Tommy visibly rolled his eyes. Dream forced down the urge to slap him.
Tommy tugged the jacket tighter around himself. “Whatever,” he muttered bitterly, yet again looking away from Dream the second the fire was lit.
Okay, yeah, that was it.
Dream, without missing a beat, reached forward and gripped Tommy’s chin, forcing him to look at him. “What is wrong with you?” He hissed, anger making his blood boil. “Why won’t you just look at me? Are you that afraid of me, huh?”
Then Dream paused, noticing where Tommy’s gaze had locked onto. He followed his gaze, realizing that Tommy was staring directly at his neck. “What? Is there something on my neck or something?” He muttered, rubbing his neck. It didn’t feel like there was anything on it.
“Tommy?” He called out. The teen wasn’t responding, eyes still locked onto his neck. Dream huffed, getting more and more agitated by the minute. He reeled his hand back, and slapped Tommy across the face.
Instantly, Tommy yelped, clutching his now reddening cheek. His eyes snapped back to Dream’s mask, looking both offended and sheepish. “The fuck was that for, you dickhead?!”
Dream crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe if you just looked me in the eyes from the first place, I wouldn’t have to have done that!” He scoffed. Then paused. “...Why were you staring at my neck, anyways?”
Tommy immediately stiffened. He grumbled something under his breath, eyes going back to avoiding Dream like the plague. Dream’s eyes narrowed. “Come again?”
“...’Ts cause I’m hungry,” Tommy admitted quietly. Dream raised an eyebrow, confusion merging with his irritation.
“What do you mean, hungry? I gave you pancakes thirty minutes ago. Did you not like them? I even went out of my way to actually cook something instead of giving you crafting table food.”
Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed, glancing back up at Dream like he was stupid. “...But I need blood?” He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
After that, it was pin silence. Dream stared at Tommy. Tommy stared back. Then Dream took a deep breath, and mentally concluded that Tommy was going through some schizophrenic hallucinations. That, or he was sick.
He stepped closer, now standing directly in front of Tommy, and placed the back of his palm against the younger’s forehead. Tommy blinked up at him, clearly confused, before smacking his hand away.
Okay. He didn’t have a fever. “Do you need to lie down or something?” Dream asked. “Maybe I gave you the wrong kind of mushrooms?”
Tommy bristled, scowling, clearly offended. “Excuse you?” He hissed. “I’m a vampire, Dream. I quite literally need blood to survive.”
And yea, that was definitely not on Dream’s bingo card. He had expected Tommy to be a hybrid, sure. An avian hybrid, maybe. A half-demon like Bad, even. The one thing he didn’t expect was Tommy being a vampire.
It wasn’t until Tommy shrank back that Dream blinked, realizing that he had been staring for far too long. Dream breathed out slowly. Okay. This was...something. “...So, like, how long have you known that you couldn’t eat the stuff I gave you and didn’t say a word about it?”
Tommy swallowed nervously, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “...’Bout since the first time, maybe..? I thought you knew?”
“How the hell was I supposed to know that you’d be a vampire?!” Dream yelled, eyes wide behind his mask as he stared incredulously at Tommy. “You didn’t tell me! Nobody did!”
“Seriously?” Tommy muttered, as if he was the one that had the right to be confused. Dream wasn’t even sure if it was even Tuesday today. “I thought for sure someone would have told you. Like Tubbo or something.”
Dream shuddered at the mention of Tubbo, remembering the Butcher Army. He didn’t have a clue as to what they were planning, but he was certain it wasn’t something that would benefit him.
What he did know, though, was that he was getting a headache. He didn’t even know vampires existed. He reached up to rub his temple, only to pause when his fingertips were met with porcelain instead of his skin. He sighed, dragging his hand back down. “How many people are vampires on my server without me knowing, exactly?”
“...Me, Techno, Wilbur, and Phil?”
“Okay,” Dream muttered under his breath. Prime, he needed some coffee. Maybe he was dreaming. This was a fever dream, right?
...It would explain Tommy’s strength despite looking like a starved Victorian child. It would also explain why he sometimes grimaced when he ate his food. Either that, or Dream’s food sucked so bad, Tommy would rather drink blood than eat it. If that was the case, he would smack the living hell out of the teen.
“...You’re not, like, pulling my shit, right?” Dream questioned after a momentary silence. When Tommy’s jaw clenched, his arms crossed, Dream knew that Tommy wasn’t lying. It would be a bizarre thing to lie about, honestly.
…Wait, wasn’t he the one that was taking care of Tommy in his exile? Did that mean that Dream would be the one to have to feed him blood on a daily basis? It wasn’t like Dream was necessarily against it—it’d make Tommy way more dependent on him, and besides, Admins had an ability for their blood to regenerate at a much faster pace—it was just the thought of being fed on that made Dream on edge.
He’s never– He’s never, ever, met a vampire before. He didn’t even think about the possibility of vampires existing until this moment. And with the responsibility of feeding Tommy being so suddenly dumped on him, he felt like he was out of options.
He took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for what he was about to say. Silently, he held out his wrist in front of Tommy. He watched the teen give confused glances between his mask and wrist. Dream felt the tips of his ears burn. “Well?” He sneered. “Just get on with it, then. If you’ve really been starving for weeks.”
He watched as Tommy’s eyes widened with disbelief and suspicion all at once, but he knew Tommy could only hold back against hunger for so long. Tentatively, the younger carefully grabbed Dream’s wrist and pulled his sleeve up, and Dream noticed his fangs elongating as he opened his mouth. Then he bit him without missing a beat, and Dream hissed quietly under his breath.
It felt like a sharp, stinging pain for a quick moment, before it was dulled to an aching stinging. Dream eyed Tommy as the younger kept drinking, and drinking, and drinking...It wasn’t until Dream felt like the world around him was spinning that Tommy stopped, extracting his fangs from Dream’s wrist with a loud POP!. Dream blinked, in a daze, as he gazed at Tommy, teen licking at the droplets of blood on his wrists.
He yanked his arm back. He wasn’t about to be licked like a cat getting preened, for Prime’s sake. Then he just now realized that, at some point, he had been dragged down to the ground. He blinked back at Tommy, who had an expression of pure bliss on his face. Dream peered back at his wrist. Twin dots resided on them, already starting to heal.
Dream sighed quietly, shaking off the dizziness. “How long until you have to feed again?” He inquired, rubbing his wrist and grimacing when a few droplets of blood came out. He quickly hid his wrist when Tommy’s pupils dilated at the sight of the blood. Prime, he literally just fed.
“Oh! Uhm, I think it depends on the person’s age?” Tommy answered, licking the blood off his lips. “Personally, I’ve never gone more than three weeks. Though Phil did tell me that since I was still kind of a fledgling, I needed blood every week or so.”
Great. That meant that Dream had to feed Tommy every week. but, he could technically just procrastinate on it, since Tommy could probably go without blood for two weeks instead of one.
“This still doesn’t feel real,” Dream said slowly. It was true. His head felt like it was being covered with cotton, but that might just be the blood loss speaking. “And you’re telling me that Philza, Technoblade, and Wilbur are vampires too?
“Jup,” Tommy chirped casually, sitting in a cross-legged position on the ground. Dream had his knees up to his chest, mirroring Tommy’s earlier position.
Dream nodded slowly. “And you guys are vampires because..?”
“Philza turned Technoblade,” Tommy said simply, shrugging as he played with the hem of his sleeves. “Then Philza turned Wilbur, and Wilbur turned me. But we’re all still part of the same coven, ‘cause Philza was the start of us.”
That didn’t make any sense to Dream’s, currently, confused brain. So. Philza was the original vampire. The sire, basically, Dream’s mind supplied. Technoblade and Wilbur were said to be twins, so that probably meant that they were somehow turned at the same time, with Wilbur turned earlier before Technoblade.
“I think I need some time to process all this,” Dream mused, running a hand through his hair. Then he noticed Tommy staring at his hair. He frowned. “What now?”
“Can I braid it? Pleeeaaaaseee?”
Dream was already standing up, turning around to head towards the Nether portal. “No. Nope. I’m going back to the Mainlands and going straight to bed.”
“Dreeeaaam!” Tommy, right hand to Prime, whined. Dream hated that sound. It sounded like a feral cat screeching.
He proceeded to ignore Tommy’s whining from behind him, fix up his clothes and armour, and promptly go straight into the Nether portal. It wasn’t until he was halfway back to the Mainlands that he realized that he had forgotten his jacket with Tommy.
Scowling, Dream shook his head. Whatever. He could deal with that another day. Now, though? He didn’t even want to consider it.