Chapter Text
Dream’s porcelain smiley face mask stares down at you with expressionless malice, but you can feel the triumphant smirk radiating from the face beneath. You scramble backward but quickly hit a pair of armored legs. You look up and meet the malevolent sneer and fiery eyes of Sapnap. To your right, George moves forward and closes the triangle. You're trapped. Well, shit.
“This will teach you not to mess with us, Y/N,” Dream says as he unsheathes his sword.
Panic rises in your chest and you desperately stand and try to break through the wall of chest plates and evil. But to no avail, Sapnap and George each grab one of your arms and hold you still while Dream steps closer and brandishes the sword in front of you. You struggle in George and Sapnap’s grasp, but it’s no use.
“Don’t do this, Dream,” you say in the best neutral voice you can muster with only the tiniest bit of a plea.
Dream throws his head back and laughs. “You should have thought about that before betraying us to work with L’Manberg,” he snarls.
You smile. May as well go down fighting. “It was the best goddamn thing I ever did,” you state.
The grip Dream has on his sword tightens and in a second, the weapon is swinging towards you. Without a way to escape, you can’t help but let the blade slice a clean and deep line across your cheek. You look at Dream slightly surprised.
“Oh, you thought I was going to kill you?” Dream asks smugly. “No, I’m going to make you regret working with those rebels first.”
Fucking crap.
You once again struggle, but it only spurs Dream into action. Dream stabs his sword into your left shoulder and you barely manage to hold in your scream of pain. The green Teletubby bastard removes the sword with a squelch and stabs your left leg, right in the thigh. He moves his blade from place to place, stabbing your legs and arms, cutting your limbs, sides, back, and chest, and taunting you whenever you let a scream out. Blood soaks your dark ragtag clothes and drips onto the grass underneath your feet. You aren’t able to hold in all of your screams, the pain is just too much.
Then George pulls one of his hands away from your arms when blood threatens to touch him, and you take the opportunity. With most of your draining strength, you thrust yourself out of Sapnap and George’s remaining hold, and run.
With your numerous injuries, running is a painful challenge, so you grab a thankfully undamaged ender pearl from your pants pocket and throw it as far as you can. A second later, you crash to the ground with a pained cry but stumble to your feet and quickly resume running. A quick glance over your shoulder shows you that Dream, George, and Sapnap are a ways behind but are gaining. You look back forward and keep running through the large meadow. You see a forest in the distance. Maybe if you get there, you can lose your pursuers in the trees or climb one and wait them out. Somehow, you know that won’t work, as if it’s inevitable that you will meet your fate at the hands of Dream and his friends.
As if the universe knows your thoughts, an arrow implants itself into your right calf and you tumble gracelessly to the ground. Behind you, you hear the victorious hollars of Dream, George, and Sapnap. You breathe heavily as you try to stand, but the injuries are just too much, your legs too weak, and your body too drained of blood. You keep returning to the grass despite your best efforts.
But wait… you remember something, or rather someone, you read about in an old leather-bound book you found in the depths of Pogtopia. It was full of ancient text, but there were a few pages of words that were readable. It was, of course, those pages that you memorized.
So, as a last-ditch effort, you take the small dagger that Dream didn’t manage to find out of your boot. And slice a deep cut in the palm of your left hand with a hiss of pain. You squeeze the bleeding hand into a fist to force more blood out of the wound and ignore how your hand shakes as you do so.
“Red as vibrant as life,” you begin to say. Footsteps sound closer behind you. “Crimson as dark as death.”
“Y/N!” Dream shouts angrily. He’s much closer now.
“Liquid lung and breath. Warm river and cool stream,” you continue.
“Y/N! Stop!” Dream yells, panic slightly seeping into his voice. Does he know what you are doing?
“Blood for the Blood God!” You shout in retaliation. You wipe your bloody hand across your face from cheek to cheek and over your nose. “I summon thee!”
For a second, the world is silent and still. The wind seems to stop blowing and the pounding in your heart seems to quiet. Then, it returns to normal and everything happens at once.
A blinding pain blooms from your stomach and scream out in agony as the sword protrudes from your abdomen and Dream cackles maniacally behind you. He removes the sword, and you curl into yourself, facing the green ground that is the only support you have. Everything hurts so much and pain ripples through your body. You are too tired to cry.
“No one has used that ritual in a while,” a deep monotone and familiar voice says. More footsteps arrive behind you, but almost as quickly as they arrive, they back away, but not too far it sounds.
Weakly and reluctantly, you look up and meet the calculating red eyes of Technoblade. When he sees you, his serious expression seems to slacken a little and he seems… concerned.
“Tech…no-blade? Yer the Blood God?” You ask with slightly slurred words. You’re surprised at the sudden appearance of your ally… but it kind of makes sense that he’s the Blood God. He does make a lot of immortality and blood comments.
Technoblade glares at someone behind you before stepping forward and crouching down in front of your slumped form.
“Y/N? You summoned me?” Technoblade questions with surprise and worry.
You nod.
“Why?”
“What’s it look like, Sher-lock?” With a jerk of your head, you gesture to the three people behind you.
Technoblade looks up with understanding. “Looks like it’s time for me to finish these nerds,” he states and looks back at you. “But first, what weapon would you like me to use?”
You look at Technoblade with evident confusion but after a second answer: “Scythe.”
With that, Technoblade nods and with a calloused yet gentle hand, he wipes the blood from your face. In his hand, the smeared blood moves around and turns into a crimson scythe. You stare at it in awe.
“Techno,” you hear Dream try to reason as Technoblade rises and his scerlas fade from white to black.
“There’s is no ‘Techno’ here, only the Blood God,” Technoblade-- the Blood God says, his voice echoing, as if there is more than just one speaking.
The Blood God lunges over you in a blur of speed and a swing of the red scythe. You don’t have the strength to move to watch the battle, so you instead lay (or rather fall) on your back in the grass and listen to the clashes of weapons, the shredding of wooden shields, and the screams of pain as blades hit their marks. Soon, the prairie descends into silence once again. Your entire body is heavy and light at the same time, and you feel the wetness of your blood soaked into your Pogtopian attire. Out of the corner of your eye, you see that same blood decorate the blades of grass like droplets of morning dew. You’re so tired, and the quiet and the warm sun doesn’t help you stay awake. So you close your eyes.
“Y/N!” a panicked deep voice exclaims. Rough hands shake you, flaring up your injuries.
Your eyes bolt open, and you gasp in pain. Technoblade quickly moves his hands underneath you and lifts you up into his arms so he’s carrying you like a baby. The movement hurts and you can’t help but whimper in pain. You look up at Technoblade and meet his red ones, no longer surrounded by black, with your own heavy-lidded ones.
“Y/N, I’m going to bring us back to Pogtopia and bandage you there. I can restore your blood, but I don’t have healing abilities. You can not fall asleep on the way. Okay?” Technoblade looks down at you in what you can only characterize as desperation. So you nod even though you doubt you’ll make it all the way there.
Technoblade subtly tightens his hold and you and starts running much faster than any human or mortal even while holding your weight. You turn your head towards Technoblade’s chest to avoid the wind blowing harshly in your face and stinging your open wounds.
You and the god arrive at Pogtopia quicker than you anticipated. Technoblade slows down at the entrance and carefully maneuvers your cradled form down the narrow spiral staircase into the canyon and down the rails set of stairs that leads to Pogtopia’s floor. The chill of the hidden settlement is familiar and comforting in a way, although, that might just be you going delirious on blood loss.
As Technoblade’s frantic footsteps echo on the stone ground and ring through the canyon, another eager set joins them. Tommy runs into view but stops when he sees Technoblade and you in his arms.
"Y/N?!” Tommy yells. Technoblade quickly rushes around Tommy, and the younger wastes no time in following them.
“What happened?!” Tommy asks panicked. He stares at Y/N with blue eyes full of concern.
“Dream and his lackeys,” Tommy makes an angry face. “Don’t worry, Tommy, I took care of them,” Technoblade reassures. Tommy still looks angry but not as much. “Who’s here right now?” Technoblade asks as they enter a mostly bare room that serves as a medical bay of sorts. Really, it’s just a stone outcropping that’s been smoothed down to be used as a table, a few beds that are really just piles of thin blankets, and a shelf carved into a stone wall that holds Pogtopia’s measly supplies of potions and first aid supplies.
“Just me and Wilbur,” Tommy answers as Technoblade sets you down on the stone table, and you shiver at its cool touch. Your eyelids droop. It’s getting harder to stay awake.
“Get Wilbur, he’ll want to know about this,” Technoblade tells Tommy. Tommy hesitates, looking at you and the sorry state you are in, before running off to retrieve Wilbur.
Technoblade goes to the supply shelf and grabs some gauze, a stitching needle, and thread. You groan at the sight of them.
“I know,” Technoblade says as he sets the medical supplies on the table next to your bloody legs. “But it’s no use restoring your blood if you’re just going to keep bleeding out afterwards.”
His words make sense, but you don’t want any more pain. If only you could go to sleep, then you wouldn’t feel anything. But everytime you close your eyes for too long, Technoblade shakes you awake again, no matter how much it hurts all the cuts and stab wounds on your body.
As Technoblade starts stitching the sword wound in your stomach (easily the most concerning injury), Tommy returns with Wilbur. Wilbur gasps at the site of you, and Tommy blanches at your exposed stomach.
“Holy shit, what the fuck happened?!” Wilbur exclaims.
“From what I gather, they were attacked by Dream, George, and Sapnap,” Technoblade answers, not taking his attention away from threading the needle and stitching up your wounds. You wince, but at least it’s better than Dream’s blade.
“From what you gather?” Wilbur sounds angry, but he’s just stressed and worried.
“Y/N didn’t say much. They lost too much blood.”
Wilbur comes closer to you. You stare sadly at his pale skin and dark bags underneath his eyes. Pogtopia has been hard on them all, but especially so on Wilbur it seems.
“Why did they attack you, Y/N” Wilbur asks surprisingly gently.
“Betr-ayed them,” your words slur together.
Wilbur nods in understanding. Dream doesn’t take strongly to independence or traitors. Well, only ones that are traitorous to him.
“How did you find them, Technoblade?” Tommy asks.
Technoblade stiffens the tiniest bit at the question, but only you see to notice. It’s safe to assume that no one other than yourself knows about Technoblade being the Blood God, even if he doesn’t hide the fact too well.
“Com…communi-cat-or,” you answer. With your remaining strength, you pull the broken communicator out of your pocket. “Dr-ream br-roke i-it.” That was true, but the bastard did it before you could call anyone. However, Wilbur and Tommy doesn’t need to know that.
Wilbur takes the smashed communicator from your trembling hand and looks at it sadly.
“Take care of them,” Wilbur tells Technoblade who only nods in response.
Wilbur leaves the room, and Tommy looks indecisively between you and the ex-president.
“There isn’t much for you to do here, Tommy, so why don’t you get some rest?” Technoblade says to the blonde teen.
Tommy opens his mouth to argue, but Technoblade sends him a pointed look, and Tommy reluctantly leaves. Technoblade once again focuses on patching you up.
“Thank you,” he whispers. You barely have the strength to nod. “Where did you find that ritual?” Technoblade asks.
“Book,” you reply simply.
Technoblade hums. “You’ll have to show me later.” If there is a later.
Time passes weirdly, seeming to drag on forever but also passing by quickly. Soon or after a while, which ever one it is, Technoblade finishes stiching your wounds and wrapping others in gauze. He explains that as he finished some of the wounds, he would restore blood, so you didn’t die of blood loss while he was operating. When Technoblade is fully finished, he hovers a hand over your body and suddenly, you feel life returning. Your body feels like it’s charging, gaining energy. You gasp at the overwhelming feeling, and you find that it’s hard to breathe. You desperately claw at your chest, as if that will help get the air into your lungs.
Technoblade pins your arms down to the table, not roughly but still firm enough so you can’t struggle against him. It makes sense now why he’s so goddamn strong! He’s a fucking god! Somehow, it doesn’t change much of your perspective of Technoblade, just enlightens some stuff.
“Calm down,” Technoblade urges. “It’s just your body waking up.”
Yeah, and you didn’t think you’d wake up.
After a few minutes of calming words from Technoblade and the realization that you are indeed not bleeding the fuck out, you calm down and your breathes return to normal. Once again, your eyelids droop, this time from pure exhaustion and not blood loss. Who knew that being chased down, tortured, running once again, summoning a god who turned out to be your ally, nearly dying, and having a panic attack after having your blood restored was so tiring? Such a shock.
You yawn, and Technoblade’s lips twitch upwards into a small smirk. “You can go to sleep now, Y/N,” he says.
“Thanks, Technoblade,” your words don’t slur anymore.
And with that, you close your eyes and descend into a dreamless slumber. Technoblade leaves your side to tell Wilbur and Tommy that you’re stable. Their relief out shadows their suspicion at how you made such a great and fast recovery. Tommy takes the first watch over you, making sure you stay stable during your much-needed sleep.