Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A message comes through Vio’s com.

Hero: Sam -> you

Hero: angry = yes

Ah, fun.

He informs his team, who he had been discussing progress with in the skeleton of their future meeting room, “We're getting company.”

Tommy looks annoyed. “The fuck is it this time?”

That's an understandable reaction. The majority of the server has stopped by the newly-finished offices of the Reformation Team to get a feel for their motives.

Tommy in particular has been met with a lot of skepticism.

“Sam,” Vio sighs, and sees the teen go rigid.

“Fuckin’ bastard– what does he want?”

He frowns at the seething resentment underlying those words. He can definitely understand that reaction, because getting someone killed due to shitty policies is a great way to be hated.

Vio admits, “He’s likely pissed that I've told most of the server about him letting Quackity torture Dream.”

The teen flinches at that name.

Because he’s not an asshole, he rises from his chair. “Purpled and I can take care of it. We don't need to involve you.”

Instead of gratitude, Tommy just glares at him. “Fuck you! I'm not fuckin’ letting you decide shit on your own!”

“Pretty big deal, bossman. Should probably be a group effort,” Tubbo agrees.

He studies them, then Ranboo. After judging their sincerity, he sighs again. “...Alright. If it gets to be too much, though, feel free to leave. Don't worry about excuses or reasons, just go.”

Tommy blinks, then furrows his brow. “...That’s it? You're not gonna fuckin'-- shove us out?”

As he gathers up the papers scattered on the makeshift table, he answers, “If you three have decided to do this, then I can’t very well stop you. It's your lives, your trauma.”

Vio shrugs. “I'm not going to coddle you, nor be excessively harsh. I'm not your dad, nor are you helpless. I'll have faith that you can make intelligent choices about this matter.”

Before they can reply, the quadrupedal creeper hybrid storms up.

Judging from the smoke billowing from his mask, he's in a very bad mood.

“How dare you go around spreading lies,” he snarls, brandishing his trident.

Vio is surprised when not one, but four weapons are drawn by his associates.

Huh. Interesting.

He doesn't comment on that, nor let the pain from Sam’s enchantments show. Instead, he hums, “What have I lied about, Sam?”

“That I let the prisoner be tortured!” “Funny, Quackity was quite adamant that you did,” Vio scoffs.

Smoke billows even more heavily, and Sam takes another menacing step forward.

Purpled gets between them, and warns, “Back off.” “I don’t know what he told you–” “The truth, evidently!” “He’s just like the prisoner! He’s manipulating everyone–”

Unexpectedly, it’s Tommy who speaks up. “Then prove it.”

Oh?

“If he’s a fuckin’ liar, then it’d be real fuckin’ obvious, yeah? Potions don’t fix everything. Show a group’ve people Dream, n’ prove you’re not just fuckin’ pissed you got caught.”

Immediately and unsurprisingly, Sam snaps, “The prisoner will just try to escape. It’s not secure, and it’s not necessary.”

Vio feels his spite crest in a very familiar way, and he smiles in a way that shows off how sharp his teeth are.

“We’ll see about that.”

======

A mere three days after the tense confrontation, Vio makes a move that surprises everyone–

He calls a server-wide meeting.

Not only does it give a chance for him to take strides forward, but it gives him a chance to see those who he hasn’t run into yet.

The last stragglers file into the community house, and Vio clears his throat.

“Thank you all for coming. For those of you who haven’t met me, my name is Vio. At least…currently.”

Back straight, voice calm, he says, “My original name was Purpled, and I come from a parallel reality where people and their actions are swapped around. Mine is Ponk, for the record. We were in business together, he a mercenary and I a doctor and information broker.”

Tapping on his com, he plays a familiar video on the big TV in the room. DayDream yells at Jack Manifold, and the room around him is dead silent for several moments.

Then, softly, BadBoyHalo whispers, “That’s Dream's face.”

Pandemonium erupts.

Yep, that’s about what he expected. He lets them get it out of their system for a moment before signaling to Purpled, who whistles sharply.

“Shut up! Do you want to yell, or do you want answers?!”

That makes the assembled group quiet down fairly quickly.

Vio nods to him. “Thank you, Purpled.” Turning back to the group, he continues, “I've gathered you all here for multiple reasons. First and foremost is to inform the server at large of my plans.”

He sweeps his gaze over the group, seeing a fair bit of wariness.

“My goal is to reform the server. I want it to become a peaceful place where one could even raise a kid. I don’t want to be president, emperor, or dictator, though. I don’t want gold statues and glory. No, no…I plan to be more like management. Myself and my team– Purpled, Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo– will be focused on matters such as lighting up spawn and filling in creeper holes. Every single person on this server will be included in this. There is only one small price for it; a price that some of you may think you shouldn't have to pay. But you do.”

The room is tense as a drawn bow, and understandably so.

He cuts that tension by declaring, “Therapy. You’re all going to fucking therapy to work through your baggage. I am not excluded from this, to be clear. Given we have only a single therapist, it may take some time to find someone willing to come here…or any residents willing to take the courses.”

Immediately, BadBoyHalo speaks. “Language! Uhm, but– you really just…want us to go to therapy? That's your only condition?”

“And not trying to kill each other. Solve problems with words, not murder. Drag others in to help mediate if need be, but don't come out swinging,” Vio replies.

Gods, it’s weird to have a non-megalomaniacal Bad around.

…Also an alive one.

Punz speaks up next. “When you say everyone, where does that leave Dream?”

He smiles. He's glad someone took the bait.

“With him, a lot of decisions need to be made. Ultimately, though, I see only two paths forward; rehabilitation or death. Tommy has told me about the conditions of that cell. It's a pressure cooker. If he ever did escape, then you'd have someone even more unstable than when he went in. Therefore–”

Sam stalks forward, and Purpled blocks his path with a sword. The Warden snarls, “You're just trying to break him out! The prisoner is a risk–”

Cutting him off, Vio shoots back, “Pandora's Vault is holding you hostage, too. Let's say he never escapes. Then what? Do you stay there until one of you dies? Given he's somehow still alive in there despite everything, that could take decades. You might even die before he does!”

Tommy snaps, “I don't fuckin’ trust you in there anyway. You're crazy. You told me, after you let me fuckin’ die, that everything was perfect when it was just you n’ him! Then you let Quackity in to torture him–”

“Those are lies–” “Then prove it! Group of people go in, people who have no fuckin’ reason to sympathize with that bastard. If you can't prove he's perfectly fuckin’ fine, then you're just getting pissy ‘cause you got caught.”

Smoke billows out from behind the gas mask the creeper hybrid wears.

Teeth audibly grit, the Warden growls, “I've told you, it's a security risk.” “Then you've got a real fuckin’ shitty prison, yeah? Can't even handle visitors for a guy who's been starved. Yeah, that's right; you think I forgot? I fuckin’ hate that bastard, but you barely gave enough raw potatoes for one person. How many does he get now, huh?”

Sam snaps, “That was his idea–”

Vio scoffs. “So a starved prisoner with malnutrition is such a huge security that it's impossible to let anyone else in. Sure, Sam.”

He taps at his com and pulls up a video.

It's clips of the prison, taken over the course of a month. Every day, Quackity goes in, then comes out hours later covered in blood.

Flatly, he says, “Does this not merit investigation? Because this looks an awful lot like evidence of continuous torture to me.”

There's shock and horror on the faces of the server's residents.

He gestures to Tommy. “If anyone should be arguing that he deserves it, it's him. But he's pushing for Dream to be checked on. And let's not pretend it's entirely altruistic, either. The only reason Dream is alive is because of the revive book. Sam and Quackity have failed to get it from him. Either new methods are needed, or else it needs to be given up on.”

Vio paces a little, tail swishing as he explains, “I propose that we start with a small group to check on him and see what state he’s in. After that, psychological evaluations to determine what state his mind is in. Lastly, after that’s been determined…a vote. The server, as a whole, decides what his fate is. Death, or parole.”

Punz asks, tone thoughtful, “And who will his parole officer be?” “I’ll preside over it as both his doctor and to ensure everything is running smoothly. I have no history with him, after all. He’ll live with Techno and Phil, assuming they’re willing. Their place is remote, they’re more than capable of stopping him even when he’s at full strength, and they’re on decent terms already. He’s less likely to try to flee or retaliate if he has people he can put some shred of faith in.”

Immediately, Techno answers, “We’ll do it. Better us than anyone else.”

Vio nods. “Excellent. As we get closer to that possibly happening, I’ll draw up some potential parameters for him to live under. Nothing extreme, obviously– but at a baseline, I’d want him to be kept track of…and kept away from Tommy and Tubbo.”

Said teens seem surprised at that, but a little relieved.

He adds, “Again, though, we can discuss this as things progress. The first step is getting eyes on him to ensure he’s coherent enough to speak.”

“The prisoner is–” “Your objections are noted and ignored. Nothing you say in regards to him can be trusted, because you have abused your authority and the trust of the rest of the server,” Vio interrupts.

As Sam visibly seethes, Bad raises his hand. “I’ll– I want to be part of the group that goes in. I saw him, and…yeah, the conditions are awful. And Sam stopped letting us inside a while ago–”

Sapnap gets to his feet. “Me, too. I– I need to know what’s happened to him. If he’s really…” The blaze hybrid looks stricken. “Sam was acting weird even back then, but I ignored it and just– just tried to move on.”

Sam snarls, “They’re known sympathizers!”

Scoffing, Tommy shoots back, “The fuck’re you talking about? Bad was your fuckin’ guard, n’ Sapnap helped put him in the Vault. You’re fuckin’ lucky Technoblade isn’t demanding to go, too.”

“Absolutely not. I refuse to let him inside.”

Vio hums, ignoring the Warden’s outburst and the mutter of language from Bad. “I need to go, obviously. You cut off the arm of the only other person with medical training, so I doubt they’ll be willing to go. Other than that…hmm.”

He pretends to think. He knows exactly who he wants to pick. “What about Philza? Surely that’s an acceptable compromise. No Technoblade, but Philza goes instead. That way Techno can be assured that things are relayed properly. I’m sure nobody is interested in him deciding that the process is unfair, and thus take matters into his own hands, correct? So…myself, Bad, Sapnap, and Philza. I believe that’s plenty big enough.”

Philza cocks his head to the side, but there’s a little smile on his lips. Weird, compared to how Darkza acts, but not unwelcome. “Sure, mate.”

The Warden slams his trident against the ground. “I won’t let your– your scheming–” “Were you under the impression that this was a negotiation? No, Sam; not for you. We’re going to see Dream, and the more you refuse, the more likely it is that you somehow managed to do something horrific. Can anyone even guarantee he’s still alive? Because I’m sure coms could be tampered with. Even if he is alive, I have no doubt his condition is abysmal. There are only two ways this goes. Either you do this willingly, or we have no choice but to assume you’ve gone completely mad with power.”

Vio stands tall as he turns back to the rest of the server. He asks, “By a show of hands, if Sam refuses to cooperate, who would object to the prison being broken into and the Warden confined? Regardless of your feelings about Dream, I question if he’s a danger to others. How long before he decides that Technoblade is too big of a risk, and locks him up for nothing? Or me, for insisting on learning the truth?”

There is only silence. Some people fidget or look away, but the message is clear– that if Sam keeps trying to stonewall them, then they will simply go around him.

Smiling, he asks Sam, “So, Warden– what will it be? Will you cooperate, or will this be done by force?”

There’s a mutinous look in the creeper hybrid’s eyes as he finally spits, “Fine. Don’t blame me when this blows up in your faces.”

He nods. “Shall we go now, then?”

Techno speaks up again. “Give it a couple hours so people can prepare. Maybe get some medical supplies, some actual food…”

Taking the hint, he inclines his head. “Is four hours agreeable to everyone?”

The assigned group nods. Vio smiles. “Excellent. To be sure Sam doesn’t fuck anything up, I’d like for someone to ensure he doesn’t try to run back to the Vault. He’s proven untrustworthy, after all, and I’d really rather not deal with a siege.”

Not that he couldn’t, it would just be annoying. In an emergency, he could ask Hero to get through the walls of the Vault– either by brute force or with his Voidwalking– but that would open a lot of questions.

And also risk others seeing him. Eldritch madness isn’t really a treatable condition, and it would look bad for him to inflict that on anyone by accident.

On purpose is another matter. He keeps his com coded the way he does for a reason, after all.

After a moment, Puffy and Foolish both rise. Foolish explains, “I know him, kinda, and since I can just pick him up if he gets too feisty–” “Pick him up?” “Oh! Yeah, uh– I can get crazy big, if I want. It’s just easier to be small, since nothing is really built for titans.”

Huh. Good to know.

He claps his hands. “Excellent. Puffy, please try to talk sense into him. It’s a long shot, but I’d really rather not end up with him trying something.”

Sam growls, “I could stop this, you know. If I locked you up…”

“You’re proving my point. Also, good luck; I have failsafes if you fuck around. The finding out won’t be pretty, I assure you,” he scoffs.

Bad sighs, “Language. Also, the Vault is pretty…hard to get out of. If he did lock you up…”

Vio shrugs a shoulder. “Explaining what I’ve done will mean Sam can try to work around it. But it’s not really something that can be overcome. Trying would be…well, Purpled, you know what my failsafe is.”

Said alternate version of himself makes a face. “That’s your backup?” “Remember what I’ve told you about prismarine?”

Purpled stares at him. “It works on obsidian, too?” “Yes.” “I don’t know how to feel about that,” the teen mutters, eyeing his com warily.

Tommy complains, “The fuck is this secret plan you’re talking about?”

Ah. Right, he’s never brought them into the loop on Hero’s existence.

He hums to himself. “...Give me a few days to a week or so, and I’ll fill you three in on it. I need to prepare and this takes priority.”

He gets a message.

Hero: meet = yes

Hero: you = stupid + boring

Hero: obsidian = big payment

He rolls his eyes. Leave it to the eldritch abomination to be a pest right now.

Stowing his com, he says, “Alright, meeting adjourned. I’ll call for another meeting once I’ve examined Dream and can shed light on what’s happened to him.”

It’s going to be an interesting day, he can feel it in his bones.

Chapter Text

Sam visibly seethes as he leads them through the guard tunnels to the main cell.

“This is a security risk,” the Warden growls to himself for the umpteenth time.

Vio replies in annoyance, “You've been deemed a security risk.” “After seeing evidence of you letting someone be tortured, can you really blame us for not trusting you, mate?”

Despite Philza’s reasonable and correct statement, Sam instead ignores them both.

He's probably trying to scheme a way out of this, to somehow salvage his reputation and position.

Fuck, he never thought he could dislike someone more than he does Jacobs! Yet, the bastard's roleswapped counterpart has not just risen to the occasion, but flown past the bar by a stunning margin.

It's not even that he has anything against torture or mistreatment. It's that Sam is stupid, insufferable, and dogmatically convinced he's morally in the right.

Vio is only more glad that Hero is on standby just in case. He's less and less confident that Sam won't snap and try to trap them inside this admittedly impressive obsidian box.

After a concerning amount of travel and turns, they emerge in front of a curtain of lava.

“You'll wait for the lava to come down–”

Sam's attempt to regain control is thwarted when they all withdraw fire resistance potions.

Vio tells him, “Let's just do this the easy way, hmm? No sense in waiting.”

He downs the bottle and swims through first.

Upon reaching the other side, Vio finds himself glad that fire-related magic works for him as intended, because any version of the wolf-sheep-wheat game in this situation could have ended badly.

Dream is visibly emaciated, kneeling on the floor of a small, rancid-smelling cell, his head against the harsh obsidian.

Weakly, the supposed admin of the server croaks, “Pl- please, Sir…the– the water–”

Mouth set in a grim line, Vio strides to the cauldron and checks it.

Bone dry.

“When is the last time you were in this cell, Sam?”

The Warden growls, “He must have done something–”

“No, you know what? I'm not listening to this. Bad, drag him to the other side and keep him there,” Vio snarls, seething contempt humming in his bones.

When Sam opens his mouth again, Vio does something he hasn't yet done on this server.

It feels like tensing an intangible muscle. The exact name for it isn't something he can really pronounce, but the closest approximation would be fear-gaze.

Because that's the effect. Those around him become afraid, regardless of how they usually regard him.

Not unless they're slowly exposed until they become acclimated to it. That's the only way someone can avoid the wave of instinctual, primal fear that this ability invokes.

He doesn't do all that much of it. He's worried about Dream having a heart attack, after all.

Bad reacts faster than Sam does, and drags them both back through the lava.

Only then does Vio relax that muscle.

He crouches down in front of Dream, who stares at him with wide, bafflingly vibrant green eyes. He seems confused and afraid, but Vio sighs softly.

He fishes a bottle out from his inventory, telling the server's admin, “I need you to drink this slowly. Otherwise you'll puke it back up.”

There's a tiny nod, and Vio hands the water over.

Dream clearly tries not to guzzle it, but only half succeeds.

Vio tells Sapnap, “Go back over. I need as much space as possible, and you're in the way.”

The blaze hybrid seems stricken. “But–”

Annoyed, Vio says, “What, do you need confirmation he was tortured? Look at him, Sapnap! Does this not look like torture?!”

Dream suddenly seems to realize Sapnap is there. A look of utter grief etches itself into his face. The man brokenly laughs, “O– oh. I– fuck, I've really lost it, haven't I? Am I…is this because I'm dying?”

Staring at Sapnap, Dream says, “I wonder if the real you will look that upset when they drag my body out. Or maybe the Warden will pretend I'm still here…”

Vio presses his hand to Dream’s neck and tells him, “I doubt you could make me up.”

There's a shudder, but no move to get away. Instead, Dream goes entirely still aside from a faint tremble.

It's like a prey response. Dream can’t fight or flee, so he's freezing.

Instead of a big, bad, scary villain, this man just looks pathetic.

What the fuck does Sam think he's capable of in this condition? It's doubtful he could walk out, let alone fight in any meaningful capacity.

“My name is Violet, better known as Vio. If you want to get technical, though, I was called Purpled. The place I come from is called the SMPza. There, each person and their accomplishments have been shuffled around. The Dream I know, DayDream, is a maskless, winged father of four. The Sam I know is a puppy-like history buff who is usually seen with the least likable person in the world, Jacobs. Said man a stupid asshole who simply fails to have the courtesy to die and give me a life without his presence.”

“I– what?” “Yeah, what was that about–”

Vio looks back at the blaze hybrid, annoyed. “Were you under the impression that that was a suggestion? Go to the other side, I have a patient to examine.”

Immediately, Sapnap starts to argue, but Vio cuts him off. “This isn’t about you. Stop making things harder than they need to be.”

Phil, who has been quiet and slowly inspecting the room, says, “Mate, there's gouges in the obsidian and blood all over the floor. These marks can only be made with netherite. Dream needs a doctor and people he can trust.” Heavy emphasis is placed on that word.

Sanpnap flinches, and then visibly relents.

He bends down, though, and ever-so-carefully presses his forehead against Dream’s. “I'm sorry. I– I was wrong. I won’t…I won’t abandon you, okay? I'm getting you out. Sam doesn’t get a say, not any more. Even your biggest haters can't argue that this is– this is too much.”

Dazed, Dream reaches up and touches Sapnap’s shirt. His fingers twitch like he wants to grab it, but he's either not strong enough, not brave enough, or both.

“You’re wrong Pandas. The Warden will. S– Sir will.”

Vio's eyes narrow. He can guess who this ‘Sir’ is. “Quackity has been dead for a month and a half. Did Sam not tell you that that's why he stopped coming?”

Dream jerks away from Sapnap, eyes wide. “What? No, that's– that's not possible. I would know. I– how would I not know…?”

Eyebrows raised, Vio answers, “How would you know, with no com and Sam evidently ignoring you? After his final visit here, he attempted to blackmail and threaten Purpled and I into joining his shitty country. We refused, taking great offense to his efforts. Purpled took one life, and I took the last. Quackity told me quite a lot of things while he tried to find a way to appease me.”

Upon looking towards Sapnap and Philza for confirmation, Sapnap tells Dream, “I– he’s dead, we all got the messages. And nobody knew. About– about any of this. I swear, none of us– if I had any idea he was doing…fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The blaze hybrid punches the wall, his hair smoking. “I trusted him! And he was– all this time, all this fucking time–!”

Philza settles a hand on Sapnap’s shoulder and tells him, “Mate, that’s not helpful. Go over and keep watch of Sam. The more eyes on him, the better. Vio and I can take care of things here.”

Sapnap looks like he wants to argue, but seems to finally accept reason. “I…even if I have to go to war against the rest of the server, I’m getting you out. Nobody deserves this.”

With that, the blaze hybrid downs the other fire res potion and goes back through the lava.

Dream stares after him, brow furrowed in confusion. “...Nobody knew? I thought…”

Vio sighs, telling Philza as he drags the only movable object into the center of the room, “Can you help him onto this chest? I’d get down on my knees, but mine aren’t really designed for that.”

The avian tells Dream, “Nobody knew, mate. Nobody has been in since…well. You know.”

Then the admin is scooped up and settled on the chest. Vio notes that it’s got gouges and bloodstains, though Dream himself is infinitely worse in that regard.

He says, “I know you have little reason to trust me, but frankly, unless you want Sam to put you in the grave? You’re going to need to put up with my examination.”

A weak, bitter huff of laughter comes from Dream. “Won’t be worse than what’s already been done.”

It’s a fair point. Still, he replies, “It’s just a warning.”

With that, he begins assessing the extent of the damage.

It takes less time than it should. The basic diagnosis is obvious; torture, starvation, and dehydration. Because the environment is, frankly, a biohazard and Dream’s immune system is likely obliterated, it’s a minor miracle that he’s not dead already.

There’s always a chance that can change, of course.

Vio has done some extremely unethical experiments in his time. He’s not exactly a merciful person, nor one terribly concerned with morals or harm.

He understands the concepts, sure, but rarely has felt a need to feel bad about the things he’s done.

This, though, is just…pointless cruelty.

There’s nothing to gain but a sense of power, and what kind of power can be had against a foe so mangled and small?

Dream has the revival book, sure, but he’s been stubborn enough to refuse to part with it despite daily torture from Quackity. The duck hybrid broke before the admin, and did so in a splatter of blood and viscera that suddenly feels woefully inadequate for who the man really was.

“What’s the prognosis, doc?”

His thoughts get interrupted by the question from Dream.

Blinking a few times, Vio answers, “Staying in here is an immediate death sentence. I’m not even sure you’ll survive if I left and got permission. You’re leaving immediately.”

Dream stares at him. “...Right,” he says, clearly not believing him. “Good luck with that. The Warden won’t let you.”

“Sam can get fucked by a chunk-sized cactus without lube. He doesn’t get to make calls any more, the server agreed on that much.”

Philza, who has been watching the process unfold, hums in agreement. “Either we walk out with you, or we kill the bastard and then walk out with you. I never liked the idea of this damn box.”

The avian's talons click against the obsidian as he paces, studying his com. “Hrm. Signal's blocked.”

Vio takes his own out, sending a message as a test.

DrViolet: he's bad off enough that I can't leave him in here.

In just a few moments, he gets a reply.

TommyInnit: how bad

DrViolet: no water for long enough that he's showing signs of severe dehydration. Malnutrition too, obviously.

DrViolet: the cell is a biohazard and I'm shocked his wounds aren't infected.

DrViolet: he begged for water. I don’t think leaving him for even a day longer is wise. Sam won't accept it, and if anything happens…

TommyInnit: hed be left to die

DrViolet: right.

There's a long pause, and then another message.

Tubbo__: Keep hm away from us and from Snowchester

DrViolet: the prison is visible from your mansion, isn’t it? Why the fuck would he want to go there?

Tubbo__: Wgy has he does anythinh he's done??

DrViolet: I'll get an agreement from him, but I doubt he could physically get there from Techno and Phil's anyway.

Vio says, “I need an agreement you won't try to go after Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo.”

Dream’s expression darkens. “Keep them away from me, then. I don't– what can I even do, anyway? A chicken could kick my ass.”

There's a soft sigh from Philza. “You'll be staying with Tech and me. That was going to be part of the agreement for parole, but…”

There's a vague gesture towards Dream.

The admin frowns. “...Why?” “Hmm?” “Why would you– I hurt your kids.”

“That doesn't mean this is right, mate. And Tommy…can take care of himself. He hasn't needed me for a long, long time.”

There's something not quite right about that, but he can examine that later.

Vio says, “You probably don't trust anyone else. Though I should point out– upon seeing evidence of Quackity coming and going from here, they all agreed that you needed to be checked on. Sam aside, obviously. He's still pissy that we forced his hand.”

Dream seems doubtful. “They don't care.”

“They do, actually.” “I doubt– Tommy must have fought it.”

Head cocking to the side, Vio refutes, “No, actually; he was horrified. He argued quite hard in favor of you being checked on. He also hates Sam, so. There’s that.”

Those bright green eyes flick to Philza, who nods in agreement. “He did, yeah.”

“...I don’t believe you,” Dream mutters, looking away.

Vio shrugs. “Does it matter? He can’t do anything with Technoblade and Philza hanging around. Nobody can. Even if Sam tries something…”

“That bastard shows his face and he loses a life,” Phil growls.

Vio spreads his hands. “There you go. We can negotiate further after you're stable.”

Dream seems to not be able to wrap his head around it. He huddles on the chest, arms loosely wrapped around himself and staring at them.

“I– I probably need a lot of treatment,” the admin says.

Vio blinks at him. “No shit. Who do you think will be your doctor, Dream Was-Taken?”

An odd expression settles on Dream’s face. Disbelief, confusion, and wariness, mostly.

So, actually, a perfectly normal response.

Slowly, the man answers, “I…setting aside that I don't believe you can actually do anything you claim, that's not my name.”

Vio blinks. “You're not Dream?” “I am, but– my last name is just Taken. What kind of last name is Was-Taken…?”

To be fair, Vio doesn't understand the practice all that much, so he can't offer his commentary on how weird or not it would be to another person. They all sound made up as hell to him.

Instead, he can only add it to the pile of differences between the worlds. Plenty of other small details don’t line up, so he doesn’t pay it much mind.

It's not like it matters, anyway; his real concern is getting and keeping this man away from the Warden.

Chapter Text

There's an electronic buzzing noise, and then an intercom turns on.

“Attention all prisoners; due to risk of an unauthorized jailbreak, all current occupants of Pandora’s Vault will be detained until further notice.”

Vio rolls his eyes. Of course the stubborn bastard would do this.

Dream’s shoulders slump. “See? The Warden won’t let me escape.”

He answers, “I suspected this might happen. We'll have to rely on my backup plan.”

Perching his bag on the lectern and rifling through it, he says, “We could wait a few hours so that it's obvious we were imprisoned. That was my original plan. Unfortunately, the cell and its occupant are worse off than I thought. It's still an option, but I'd rather we jump right to my escape plan.”

There's a fascinating facial journey that Dream goes on. “What, exactly, is your escape plan?”

“Don’t worry about it. It's not like you'll be conscious for it,” Vio replies, pulling out a vial and a sealed syringe packet.

He explains as he draws a proper dose, “There are risks involved for you being awake for it. I can’t easily treat the side effects, so I'd rather sedate you and carry you out. You'd struggle to walk that far, anyway.”

Both Philza and Dream are confused. Wary, Dream asks, “What kind of risks?” “Losing your mind. Philza is strong enough to handle it, but you are weakened in multiple ways. Trust me, this is safest for you and the rest of us.”

He flicks the syringe to get the air bubble out.

“Afterwards, I'm sure you'll get a rundown of what happened. Right now it's just going to make you more nervous.”

Raising his eyebrows, he asks, “Do you consent?”

Dream’s mouth tightens. “Do I have a choice?” “Not really, no. If I leave you behind, multiple people will come for my head. I rather like it attached to my neck,” Vio confirms.

The admin makes a sour expression and holds out his arm. “Better than potions…probably.”

Vio cleans off a spot with a wipe, then injects the contents into Dream.

“...How long does it take to wo…”

The sentence can't even be finished, Dream slumping forward.

Because Vio knows how fast the drug hits, he catches him.

With his free hand, he sends a simple message.

DrViolet: Extraction required

He gathers Dream into his arms and waits.

Philza looks uneasy. “So…what exactly is your plan?”

“Give him a moment, the Vault isn't exactly small.” “How long are we talking?” “A few minutes. It's hard to explain, so…easier to just see for yourself.”

The uneasiness increases. “And this person is dangerous?” “In a manner of speaking,” Vio replies, wondering exactly how much of a ‘person’ Hero counts as.

They wait, until suddenly–

His ‘pet’ hops out of what looks like a rip in reality.

Philza stares at Hero, who only eyes him for a moment before turning to Vio.

Hero: pay x3

Vio makes a face as he looks at his com. “Are you seriously doing this?”

Hero: x4 now

He rolls his eyes. “Fine, you parasite. Four times pay for this job.”

The eldritch abomination grins in a way that most people would describe as ‘wrong’ and lifts a paw. Vio adjusts Dream to shake the paw.

Then he informs him, “Sapnap and Bad are in the main cells, they're included in this.”

An annoyed chuff comes from Hero, but no arguments. He'll probably angle for tips or a bonus, though.

“Is– are you keeping an eldritch abomination as a fucking pet?!”

Philza's baffled question makes Vio raise his eyebrows. “Pet is a strong word. He mooches off of and generally pesters me.”

Hero: me = priceless

Hero: coffee + spying

Hero: food = cheap

“I'm not arguing about how cheap your food is right now,” Vio informs him.

The avian shifts, seeming disturbed. Doubtlessly imaging grisly scenes of people being fed to the abomination, he asks, “What…does he eat, exactly?”

Vio sighs, “Prismarine.”

He opts not to mention that Hero is perfectly happy to eat people, but will only do so if they’re already dead.

Admitting that Quackity isn’t his first murder isn’t exactly going to help anyone be comfortable with him. Nor would admitting that he’s bothered less by the concept of torture and more by how badly Quackity did it.

At least Vio only ever did torture when directly paid to do so, when he was pissed off, or for science.

Sadism, by contrast, is just boring and crass.

As Philza blinks in surprise, Vio says, “We really should get going, though. The less time Dream spends around Hero, the better.”

“Hero?” “Well, DogChamp was taken,” Vio shrugs.

Without waiting for further inquiries, he says, “C’mon, open up. I'll lead the way.”

Hero chuffs, then expels a black, tar-like substance on the wall. It spreads like scullk around an activated catalyst until there's a sizable, pitch-black patch on the wall.

Naturally, Philza scrambles backwards. Vio tells him, “We're gonna take a stroll in the Void. Stick close– hold the back of my coat, actually, I'd rather you didn’t lose your way.”

He's looked at like he's crazy, so he adds, “Or you can write a note for Technoblade so he doesn’t kill me when I come out alone. I'll just leave you to whatever the fuck Sam will do when he finds the prisoner he's super weird about, and also three other prisoners, are missing. This would be a stupid way to kill you, especially with so many variables I can't control.”

The avian grimaces and grabs the tail of his lab coat.

Without further ado, he leads the way through the wall.

Hero trots after them, taking up the rear.

After a moment to get his bearings, Vio starts walking.

Doubtfully, Philza asks, “Mate, how do you know where you're going?”

“Practice. This is one of the perks of letting an eldritch abomination leech off of me, after all.”

There's a long hesitation, and then a baffled, “But why?” “Hmm?” “I– no offense, but what about you attracted an eldritch abomination?”

Vio snorts. “We're both outsiders to this realm, for one–” “Didn't he follow you here?” “Ah, no, it was the same on the SMPza. The server doesn't matter, none of them are where we're really meant to be.”

After a beat, he adds, “Plus, I'm the closest thing he's found to kin that won’t try to kill him on sight.”

“You are not eldritch.” “Not a lot. It's why my hands feel wrong to others. The texture on anything else wouldn't bother most people, but I'm just eldritch enough that it feels wrong. Rest of me feels the same, but I keep covered up for that reason.”

Hero barks, and Vio says, “Ah, we reached one of them. You should look away from him.”

Vio, though, watches as Hero seems to vanish. Reality suddenly splits open and he pokes his head out to see Sapnap, who stares at him like he's–

Well, like he's an alien.

While admittedly fitting, he doesn’t really want to waste too much time on explaining anything.

“Get in, we're doing a jailbreak,” Vio informs him, “don’t ask questions, the less time we spend with Dream like this the better.”

Sapnap opens his mouth, but Vio cuts him off. “Very serious about that. I don’t really want to explain to everyone that Dream died or lost his mind at the last second because you can’t follow goddamned directions, Sapnap.”

The blaze hybrid pales and steps into the Void.

He blanches. “What the fuck–” “We are, uh,” Philza laughs, an edge of hysteria to it, “In the fucking Void, mate! Vio’s backup plan is an eldritch abomination letting us walk through this damn death trap. You, ah, might want to hold on to one of us.”

As Sapnap struggles to process this, the process repeats with Bad.

Unlike with his fellow detainee, the demon is far more willing to listen to the given instructions.

“Now, gentlemen, we’re going to be walking for a while. I don’t recommend losing track of the group, getting lost here…well. Hero is providing the thing we’re walking on, let’s put it that way. Grab on to someone and for the love of whatever god you pray to, don’t let go.”

Without bothering to waste more time, Vio guides them through the featureless Void.

After a little while, Bad hesitantly asks, “So, uhm…is now a bad time to mention that this feels a little familiar?”

“In what way,” Vio hums, still keeping track of where they are in his head.

Fuck, the prison is stupidly big. He can’t wait to destroy the damn thing purely because of Sam’s annoying little tantrum.

The benefits to Dream’s mental health are just a side effect of Vio’s irritation at the attempt to put him in checkmate.

With a nervous chuckle, Bad admits, “So, well– ah, have you heard about the Crimson?”

“The Egg?!” Sapnap’s demand makes Vio’s eyebrows furrow. “I…suppose that tracks? Ours was a little eldritch. Makes sense you’re feeling something similar in the Void. Or, uh, around Hero.”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Are you telling me,” Philza says, slowly, “That the Prime-damned Void is eldritch in nature?!”

Bad mutters language under his breath as Vio replies, “Yes? It’s an endless abyss that exists in the End and if you manage to glitch through bedrock. What did you think its nature was? Divine?”

Uhg. He’s not a fan of the traces of divinity he’s felt before; just being near the Holy Lands around Church Prime makes him feel like his blood itches.

The less said about holy water, the better.

Nobody has a good rebuttal for his perfectly reasonable point. Not that they should– it’s entirely truthful.

Finally, he comes to a stop. “Hero, check here.”

The not-dog pops out of existence for a moment, then pops back in. He shakes his head, making Vio ask, “Too high or too low?”

A few more moments pass where Hero is gone, then there’s a tap of his paw against the ‘ground’.

“How deep is that abomination,” Vio mutters, grimacing. “Uhg, fine; let’s play it safe and go to the damn crater.”

Under his breath he mutters, “At least this one is less terrifying. I’ll take TnT hole over chunk error.”

Bad says, “Wait– first of all, language. Second of all, what do you mean by chunk error?”

Vio shudders as he resumes walking, recalculating the route. “The Philza from where I’m from has some, ah– well, frankly? Bullshit powers. Darkza is called that for many reasons, but mostly, he wields the darkness and Void. He erased the main chunks of L’manburg during our Doomsday. Putting the bedrock back afterwards was barely even a courtesy.”

After a beat to let that sink in, he adds flatly, “I still rank him as the third among the big three reasons I’m very happy to stay here instead of trying to go back. Before you ask– second is Theseus Was-Taken, the Blue Death. First is Daydream. Whatever the fuck is going on between them and Darkza, I never want to be wrapped up in it ever again. Do you know what it takes to spook an eldritch abomination? Trick question– the answer is Theseus Was-Taken. I, again, only rank him second. He is a living legend, blind for as long as whispers have existed of him…until some very, very, very stupid people tried to cut off his head.”

A chill goes down his spine remembering the moment he realized that an already very dangerous man just got an entire extra sense. “That’s why Doomsday happened for us. You do not– people who oppose the Was-Taken family don’t…last. Not really. Not unless they’re Darkza, or else have whatever obscene luck Niki Nihachu is blessed-slashed-cursed with. As far as I can tell, it replaced her intelligence. Who the fuck looks at a man whose infamy is that legendary and says, yeah, I should help make him kill his brother! That will go over just great!”

Hero chuffs at him. He replies, “Shut up, I can rant and keep track of our location. We’re still a ways off.”

For once, Bad is too stunned to scold him for cursing.

Clearly baffled, Philza asks, “Wait– mate, are you saying that the guy swapped with Techno is Tommy?”

“Don’t call him that,” Vio snaps, making them all jump. “I can’t– you don’t understand. He is infamously extremely opposed to being called that. You don’t call him– that name. Ever. Not even from another reality. There’s a lot of things I’ll mock from here, but I won’t chance that one. After he clocked that Hero was near his cobblestone castle despite being blind, we both decided that, you know, maybe some things are better left unknown. It’s not like we could do anything with any information we learned anyway, so– not worth it. Not after DayDream rocked up to my office and threatened me by saying that if I and Hero, who he knew was an eldritch abomination, bothered them again? He’d take offense.”

A nervous laugh slips out of him. “DayDream is– look, frankly? Terrifying. He just knows things, meaning he has some information source that I never figured out. Shortly after burying his son, he came to me and negotiated a permanent, ongoing payment for both any information related to his family and keeping my damn mouth shut about whatever I learned. I’d take whatever Darkza’s Void-jail is like over someone like that any day. Theseus listens to him and nobody else.”

Sapnap is the first to speak. “So Niki is swapped with Quackity for you?” “Yes. Before you ask, yours is George and both of you are dead. I’m not going to delve into that right now. Bad’s is Schlatt, so, well–”

“Oh no,” Bad breathes, clearly dismayed at the thought. “So I– the other me, I mean– he made this Theseus guy set off fireworks in his little brother’s face?!”

Vio’s steps stutter a moment. “What? No, is that– actually, nevermind. I’ll ask about it later. Theseus drove his sword into Orpheus’ heart, actually. From what I could see, it was near instant and painless.”

There’s a soft tsk from Philza. “Must’ve ruined their relationship.”

“Snipers were aimed at Daedalus and Atlas, both of whom were on one life. Orpheus had two. Theseus had to choose, but Orpheus made the choice for him– demanded he do it. So, he did,” Vio explains.

Before further questions can be asked, Hero barks and pops out again.

After a moment, reality splits open and Vio pokes his head out to check the level.

Shit, they’re halfway down the crater. They’re actually inside a cave that was exposed, and he can hear mobs.

“Why are we this far down?” Sapnap peers out too, confused at what he sees.

Vio sighs, “We didn’t change elevation. This is how far down the main cell is. I decided trying to go up or down…mhm, too risky.”

He steps out into the cave, waiting for the others to follow suit before holding Dream out to Sapnap. “You need hold him, since I doubt you have a weapon now.”

Sapnap heistates, but takes Dream. “So, uh…why is he–?” “I brought a sedative with me for this exact reason, or any similar scenario. Eldritch madness is nasty stuff and easier to trigger the more unstable you are. It…can be triggered while unconscious, but it takes an extreme case or long-term exposure to do that. Otherwise, you’re really only at risk if you see things the mortal mind isn’t capable of comprehending,” Vio explains.

As he talks, he has his com out.

After only a few moments, he hears, “The fuck happened?!”

He peers upwards, and waves at his team. “Sam fucked around and tried to jail us. Sorry you didn’t meet my contingency plan first, but, well– circumstances were what they were.”

The four of them pearl down, and Tommy looks around. “The fuck is this plan, anyway?”

“Hero, say hello.”

His not-dog woofs, and then Tommy’s com dings. He checks it, and then squints at the message.

“...Is this a fuckin’ joke?”

“Not a joke, unfortunately,” Purpled mutters, grimacing. “Hero is…he just is, okay?”

Philza awkwardly coughs, and says, “Ah– well, he’s, uh! Certainly…an eldritch abomination pretending to be a dog, mate. I don’t– not how I thought this would go.”

Tommy glares at him, then pointedly looks to Vio. “So he’s a dog but not a fuckin’ dog?”

A visibly exhausted Bad finally mutters, “Language. And yeah, it was…we escaped through the Void.”

Immediately, Tubbo is interested. “You flew?” “Walked. Letting an eldritch abomination mooch off of me has been useful in a few ways, including gaining an unbeatable exit strategy. If things go south, I can get out of anything. I actually can’t get rid of Hero, even if I wanted to. He’d find me and continue to pester me, and also find ways to make me regret it,” Vio replies.

Then he sighs. “Look, I appreciate the welcoming party, but–” he gestures to Sapnap, and the unconscious Dream in his arms. “We need to take him up to the commune and get him treated. As you can see, his situation is pretty damn bad.”

Even Tommy looks stricken. Actually, he seems almost disbelieving. “Shit, that’s…that’s not actually him, right? You’re– you’re not…”

A weak, humorless laugh escapes him. “This…this isn’t what I fuckin’ wanted. I thought he’d– fuck, I dunno! Repent or something! But not this. Not…not like that.”

Tubbo and Ranboo pull their friend into a hug as he seems to struggle to process his emotions.

Vio grimaces. As much as he'd like to help Tommy with his feelings about this, the best thing for the most people is to get up to the cabin with Dream.

Purpled seems to be on the same wavelength. He tells him, “You should probably head to the nether portal. Last thing anyone needs is for a fight to break out right here. Do your doctor stuff or whatever.”

With a grim expression, Sapnap holds his friend closer.

Nodding, Vio withdraws blocks to start making a path upwards. “You able to help them?” “Sure, if you don't need me.”

“Mate, we can handle anything that pops up. If that damn creeper shows his face…”

After trailing off ominously, Philza snipes a creeper from a nearby cave.

Great. Well, at least this one is mostly friendly towards him.

…Uhg. Maybe he's earned grace by virtue of getting them all out of the Vault.

All he can do is hope that he can manage to stop anyone from losing lives because of this.

Not that he'll lose sleep if Sam dies or anything; it'll just cause headaches down the line.

Anyone else…well.

Supposedly, Dream can bring people back to life. Dream would surely be willing to use that power to help those who died to keep him free, right?

Chapter Text

Vio is immensely relieved when they arrive in the Arctic without incident.

Thankfully, Sam still seems unaware that his prisoners have escaped.

Were the creeper hybrid dealing with anyone else, it would be a safe assumption.

But, well– this isn't the first time Vio has needed to get out of a situation that way.

Turns out, when you uncover the secrets of certain people, they don't take kindly to it. Nor are they happy that their heavily-guarded prisons can be bested so easily.

Technoblade eyes Dream while they wait for the admin to wake up.

…Based on the pressure in the air, not unlike an oncoming storm, the piglin hybrid is furious about this turn of events.

It had been the same way with Theseus. The weight of a storm on a clear day was a sure sign that the warrior wanted to spill blood.

The times that he was denied the ability to do so were few and far between, as not many were capable of stopping him.

Fight was laughable, freeze would kill you quicker, and fawn reportedly only helped if he had positive feelings towards the person to begin with.

That just left flee.

And, from Vio’s vantage point for Doomsday…?

Fleeing was a gamble. If he was distracted or pulled back, how extreme the offense was, and pure luck all played major roles in if someone The Blue Death set his sights on would survive the encounter.

Once again, he sends his thanks into the ether that he won't need to deal with that monster or his even scarier father ever again.

“Y'know, I'm thinkin’ about a bit of spring cleaning,” Technoblade growls.

Vio shifts uneasily and replies, “You know I can't support that kind of retaliation.”

Despite being glared at, he continues, “Trust me, I'm pissed off too. But taking violent revenge will make efforts towards peace much harder.”

He nods towards Dream, who's been laid out on the couch. “The rest of the server might think I'd be fine with him taking revenge on them.”

Technoblade growls, “Do you wanna let him get away with– with this?!”

“Absolutely not. I didn’t say no revenge, just not violent revenge. Rope the rest of the server into a trial by jury. Whatever Sam's fate is, it has to at least feel as though the server came to an agreement on it,” Vio replies.

There's a little snort from Philza. “Mate, what did you say you used to do, again?”

He leans back against the chair he's using. It's one from the dining room, placed next to Dream so that Vio can keep a closer eye on his condition.

“Information broker and occasionally doctor. I worked with Ponk, Hero, and Slime for that. I was going to do that again, but, well…”

Vio gestures vaguely. “I decided this would be more interesting.”

He's definitely not bored, at least.

Bad frowns. Evidently, tension is still high enough that the demon can't focus on the occasional cursing. “Is that how you got the footage of Quackity? With Hero?”

Vio nods. “He's how I have recordings of so many things on the SMPza. Never know when such things might come in handy.”

“I dunno man, it’s kinda weird to have all those creep shots ready to go,” Technoblade says.

Despite his alien origins, Vio isn't ignorant about what those words mean.

Thus, he shoots back, “My business was tied to the amount of dirt I could obtain and prove. It’s rare that more information makes things worse, especially in my line of work.”

“Protestin’ awful hard for someone who doesn’t take creep shots.” “Call them what you want, they’ve proven useful. Or did you want to have to fight the rest of the server to get eyes on Dream?”

There’s a sour expression on the piglin’s face, his ears swiveling backwards. “Could’ve, if needed.” “Well, you didn’t need to because I had evidence,” Vio points out.

Evidently trying to change the topic, Sapnap asks, “...How long does this stuff you gave Dream even last, anyway? And why do you just have it?”

Vio stares at him. “I knew this sort of scenario wasn’t impossible, so I planned ahead. It’s not really like I’ve needed to use my supplies enough that I’m running low, either…? He should be waking up any time now. It may have actually worn off already, but his body is in such miserable condition that he just needs sleep.”

Under his breath, he mutters, “If only I could have done the same to Jacobs, that bastard–”

“Can– so, uh, why do you hate that guy so much, anyway,” Bad blurts out, nervously wringing his own tail.

Rolling his eyes, Vio replies, “He’s insufferable, arrogant, and unfortunately for me, the best redstoner on the SMPza. He also appreciates coffee, unlike most people.”

He’s not shocked when he hears a ding from Bad’s com. The demon squints at the screen. “...Hero says you’re friends. And also is– I don’t think I want to know how he can use a communicator.”

“Hero is an eldritch abomination with a taste for prismarine. I wouldn’t listen to his opinions on who my quote-unquote friends are.”

Bad sounds doubtful when there’s a second ding. “You gave each other baskets of coffee, though?” “It was mostly junk, the coffee was just to make sure he didn’t set it on fire.” “It really feels like you have a weird friendship going on–”

“I wouldn’t spit on that asshole if he was on fire. He’s no friend of mine, and I would sooner see him dead than say otherwise,” Vio sneers.

Everyone seems to need a few moments to accept his entirely sincere statement, for some reason.

The demon clears his throat and says, “Well, ah– I like coffee…?”

He has been down this road before, so he replies, “Not real coffee. Everyone thinks I mean weak, watery, useless stuff– no, I need the real deal.”

Right on cue, Hero trots out from the back and does his fun little ripple-and-unhinge-his-jaw trick to spit out a thermos.

Vio picks it up, unscrews the lid, and ingests a few mouthfuls.

When he puts the lid back on, everyone else is staring at him in horror.

“Mate, that has to be– that was inside an eldritch abomination!” “Why does it smell like that?!” “Why did he have to puke it up, that’s so gross!”

Yeah, that’s how people usually react. Not that Hero does this around others all that often, but when he does…

Smugly, Vio says, “What was that about liking coffee, again?”

“Bruh, that’s not coffee.” “It very much is.” “Did you even use water, or–”

He barks out a laugh. “Hah! Fuck no, at least not any more than strictly needed. That defeats the purpose.”

Yet again, everyone needs a moment to accept this incredibly normal and logical fact.

Philza looks torn between laughter and a mental breakdown, Technoblade looks vaguely disturbed, Bad looks like he might pass out, and Sapnap–

Slowly, the blaze hybrid asks, “...Did…you make it in advance…?” “Hmm?” “The…coffee. Uhm– when did it get made…?”

Ah. He was wondering when one of them would realize. “Hero makes my coffee.”

Incredulously, Technoblade echoes, “The eldritch abomination makes your coffee.”

“Yes. The residual energies give it an extra kick. Generally not recommended for normal people to drink it, though.”

Before further pointless questions can be asked, Dream bolts upright.

Huh. That really shouldn't be possible, especially not in his current condition.

The admin’s chest heaves like he just ran a marathon, though, his eyes foggy and distant. “Wha…?”

Vio stows his coffee in his inventory, quasi-professional mode activated. “How are you feeling, Dream?”

There's a squinting of almost painfully green eyes. They're fascinatingly vibrant, a fact made more obvious by normal lighting conditions.

“I'm…dreaming. I think? Or crazy…?”

Because the admin is going to struggle to process this as it is, Vio takes a gentle hold of his arm and checks his pulse.

Fast, but not concerningly so. It’s steady otherwise.

He notes, “Neither. You’re out of that stupid fucking box, up in the gods-forsaken snow with Technoblade and Philza. You're likely going to be dealing with some feelings of unreality for a while. As the drugs wear off, though, you should feel somewhat more grounded.”

The stare gets more incredulous. “I– I don't believe you.”

At this point, Sapnap lunges forward and wraps the admin in a crushing hug. “It’s real, I–!”

“Pandas…?”

That one word makes the blaze hybrid start bawling, and then Dream is crying too, and Vio–

Is honestly just exasperated by the waterworks. It's already so damn wet up here, how the fuck can they stand to increase it?

Cold, wet, and miserable– the only words one can use to describe the fucking snow.

He hates the stuff. He hates this area, too, resenting memories of the SMPza's Cobble Keep and the people residing there.

Maybe after a few years, he'll be able to think about the Was-Taken family without a low level of anxiety and fear.

That day, however, is not today.

Technoblade awkwardly coughs and says, “Good to see you, man.”

Dream jolts a little at the sound of his voice. “I– Techno…?” “Why d'you sound surprised? Bruh, whose couch d'you think you're on?”

“...Why am I on your couch?”

Vio answers, “Safest place for you at the moment. Given this is where you would have been going anyway, it didn't exactly make sense to bring you anywhere else.”

Dream's fingers curl into his ratty prison uniform. Stricken, the admin protests, “And– I don't have anything to– I can't repay this, though–”

“Mate, you're not expected to pay for our protection. Everyone already agreed on this, just–” “The timetable moved up because Sam is a fucking moron who was liable to kill you if we waited. Frankly, I'm shocked you're still alive,” Vio sighs.

It's true; Dream’s condition is abysmal. The road to recovery for him is going to be long, hard, and fraught with emotions that not a lot of people could hope to understand.

The admin’s nose wrinkles with some feeling that Vio has no hope of placing. “...Everyone. I doubt that.”

Vio sighs. “Sam was opposed, but other than him–” “There’s footage,” Bad blurts out. “Of– of Quackity coming into the prison daily and…and coming out bloody. Nobody– nobody really wanted…that.”

Dream’s head snaps towards the demon, then swivels back to the others. “There– there is? How?”

Hero barks.

The admin stares at him, and slowly says, “That…so, am I crazy, or–?”

Vio confirms, “Meet Hero. He is not a dog, and it would be best to refer to him as such.” “...Okay, so if he's not a dog, then what the fuck is he?” “An eldritch abomination.”

When nobody disputes this, Dream scoffs. “Look, I get that I'm– I'm me, but that's a shitty joke.”

Philza gives a strained laugh, a wild light in his eyes. “Mate, I fuckin’ wish it was a joke. Do you– do you know how we left the prison?”

“I was knocked out so, no, of course I don't–” “The eldritch horrorterror in the den opened a portal into the Void, then we just! Walked! We fuckin’ walked, across the Void, using– some eldritch bullshit he created!”

Technoblade hums. “That explains the weird vibes.” Patting his friend's back, the piglin teases, “You’re gonna have a heart attack, old man.” “Shut. The nature of the Void is eldritch and we walked on it. Through it. It was– was–”

“I want to see,” Dream demands, eyes lit up with curiosity.

Immediately, Vio answers, “Absolutely fucking not. I sedated you because eldritch-induced madness is nigh impossible to recover from, and you are fucked up enough right now. As your doctor–” “Who made you my doctor?” “The fact that you need one and don't have any other good options. I'm getting you healthy and stable one way or another. That involves rest, a tailored diet until you can handle normal food, physical therapy, regular therapy, and generally making sure you don't fuck youself up even more. You seem like the type to destroy yourself because you’re impatient and won’t listen to reason.”

Sapnap whistles softly, eyebrows raising. “Damn, he read you for filth.” “Shut up.” “You know you missed me.”

Something complicated is in Dream’s eyes. The admin opens his mouth, shuts it, and then looks away. “...Maybe. Just a little bit.”

The silence is deafening, and Vio wants little part of it.

The whole– over-emotional reunion shit? He doesn’t care. He doesn’t know Dream, doesn’t really know anyone here outside of his team, and he’s…not exactly interested in seeing all the melodrama play out.

As far as he’s concerned, his role is to heal Dream’s body. His mind or spirit or whatever– those are for his therapist and friends to deal with on their own time.

With a long, tired sigh, he tells Dream, “We need to go over the game plan going forward.”

The admin’s expression twists, his shoulders hunching. He mutters, “I can’t– I can’t do anything. Especially not about Sam–”

“No, not that. He’ll be handled.” He flashes his too-sharp teeth, making both Sapnap and Dream shudder a little. “Idiot should’ve known better than to fuck with me.”

“What– what even are you?” “An illegal doctor, ex-information broker, current server reformer, and an extremely stubborn bastard who doesn’t appreciate having to Voidwalk to do a jailbreak.”

Everyone stares at him.

Slowly, Technoblade says, “...How the heck can a doctor be illegal?” “Technically, you’re supposed to have a license. When you learn via textbooks and hands-on back alley surgeries, official places tend not to accept your experience. Also, I spent a while having to relearn everything. Your air sucks, among other things. Too much water, I don’t appreciate it.”

After a pause, he adds, “I’m good at what I do, though. I save most of the people I intend to save.”

“Interestin’ wordin’,” the piglin notes. “Aren’t doctors supposed to have an oath…?”

Vio repeats, “I’m technically not a legal doctor. Again, people generally don’t give a shit by the time they get to me.”

“Really not loving the idea of an unlicensed doctor operating on the server,” Dream mutters. Vio replies, “You don’t have much of a choice; it’s me or Ponk, even assuming they’re willing to work with you. I’m pretty sure they’re not licensed either, so it’s your poison to pick.” “I could just not–” “Absolutely fucking not. You’re in no condition to just ignore your problems, which you will, because I’m familiar with that look in your eyes.”

Pointing one hoof-like finger at the admin, Vio warns, “You have to go on a medical diet to prevent refeeding syndrome! I still need to do a more thorough examination after you’ve washed off the grime you’re caked in– grime that threatens to infect your existing wounds, by the way– because you also need a hell of a lot of physical therapy and I need to know exactly how bad it all is. Your body is in ruins and I’ll be damned if I fuck off into the sunset and let you kill yourself via stupidity. If you want to die, have the courtesy to make it obvious and slit your own damn throat. Otherwise, shut up and stop rejecting the extremely fucking merciful gift of free medical care from the guy who used an eldritch abomination to get you out of that obsidian deathtrap.”

The admin stares at him. So does everyone else.

Dream says, slowly, “I still don't get what you're– why you even care.”

As if he’s going to back off now. He didn’t accept it when he met resistance to the idea of reformation, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t rub the fact that he’s saving Dream in Quackity’s face.

Because that’s what this is all really about; the duck hybrid pissed him off, therefore Vio is going to set that pathetic legacy and lust for power on fire.

Just because the end result is kind doesn’t mean that Vio’s intentions follow suit. It’s a petty desire for a dead man to be spat on and ground into the fucking dirt, remembered less for his own achievements and more because his attempt to control Vio backfired so hard.

Thus, he answers homestly, “Spite. Quackity tried to force me to do what he wanted, so I've decided to dismantle everything he worked towards. His legacy will become that he made a breathtakingly ruinous miscalculation by threatening me. He wanted to secure safety for only a few, so I'm making everyone safe. He wanted to be remembered as powerful, so I'm making sure he was remembered as weak. He wanted you to suffer, so I'm going to heal you.”

Sapnap’s expression twists, but he doesn’t make a comment. He's seen evidence of what his fiance was doing and condoned.

Vio shrugs, giving a sharp-toothed grin. “Boredom, too. I've never done this before, so it's all fresh and interesting. New server, new primary field of work.”

Dream breaks out into laughter.

It seems like there's some tears mixed in, but Dream eventually tells him, “I– alright, fine. I guess I'm in your hands. Hooves? Whatever you call them.”

“Either works. Now, why don't you get clean while I jot down supplies for Hero to grab? You'll probably be unsteady from the sedative, so someone should assist you.”

That's not exactly the truth, but also not entirely a lie. Frankly, Vio just doesn't want to deal with Dream ending up smashing his head open after slipping or drowning after passing out from over-exertion.

Plus, well, if someone has eyes on him, then it'll be harder for Dream to hide anything extreme.

He doesn't trust someone with that stubborn glint in their eyes not to do something stupid out of bull-headed pride.

While he knew this sort of outcome wasn't impossible, he may have underestimated just how bad it had gotten.

What a headache.

Chapter Text

It takes a few days for Dream to be well enough that they can hold the trial for Sam.

Since the ex-warden's crimes were largely committed towards Dream, it really didn't make sense to do it without the admin’s involvement.

The only problem is that Sam is refusing to leave Pandora’s Vault.

In the general chat, a back-and-forth is taking place.

DrViolet: Sam, if you don't come out, we're coming in.

DrViolet: if I have to step foot in your stupid fucking box again, you won't enjoy the consequences.

Dream: just take the L and stand trial

Dream: like, I know you're a pussy, but this is just sad

Sapnap: GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE SO I CAN KICK IT

Ph1Lza: time to face the music, mate. You don't want Vio to go in.

Awesamdude: You’re all brainwashed and can't be trusted. I'm staying in here, where it's safe!

Vio glares at the foreboding structure.

DrViolet: just remember; you were warned.

He whistles sharply, making Hero trot up. Those already aware of his true nature back up, wary as hell.

Well, except for Purpled. “Hey, man. Gonna do some bullshit again?”

Hero: payment = high

Vio sighs deeply. “Punz, how much prismarine are you willing to get your hands on?”

The mercenary makes a face. “I…don’t understand why you're asking.” “You will once I agree to this damn thing's terms.”

Hero: 2 chest

Hero: blocks

“Absolutely not. You don't need a double chest of prismarine blocks, you greedy bastard. Double chest of shards.”

Hero: 1 chest blocks + me = choose how

He has to weigh his options. “...You can't hurt anyone. I expect everyone to leave this situation approximately as sane as they started it. Sam excluded, though he can’t be so afflicted that he can't stand trial.”

Hero: deal

Hero: 1 week

Vio looks at Punz. “I need you to obtain a chest of prismarine blocks within a week.”

“...And you'll be paying me in–” “Does half a stack of diamond blocks sound reasonable?”

Purpled immediately says, “For that price, I'll do it myself!” “We'll have other matters to take care of. If that weren't the case, I would have gone to you first.”

Even though his alternate self huffs at that, Vio looks to Punz.

The mercenary scratches his chin. “I mean, sure? If you don't mind bricks, I can get most of it to you pretty quick. I'm not sure why it matters so much, though…?”

Vio looks to his quasi-pet. “Payment secured, terms accepted. Go have fun.”

Hero grins, eyes glinting unnaturally as he trots up to the water separating the crowd from the Vault.

The eldritch abomination dives into the water, and within moments they can hear the sound of the elder guardians dying.

Tommy stares at him. “...I wasn't fuckin’ sold before on your dog being a– what'd you call him?”

“Eldritch abomination. Looking like a dog is easier on everyone's sanity.” Vio waggles his own com for emphasis, adding, “His number is the one I gave you. Also, don't call him a dog; he's a not-dog.”

“We have an eldritch abomination on speed dial?!” Tubbo seems fascinated, while Ranboo seems disturbed.

Because he knows what the next question will be, Vio says, “Hero is actually a baby abomination. He latched onto me because I have a bit of eldritch in my veins. It was easier to mooch off of me than hunt on his own. He discovered that he loves the taste of prismarine. I give it to him sparingly– usually as payment or a treat.”

There aren't any more elder guardians to slaughter, but Vio does hear the sound of malfunctioning redstone.

“He might be dismantling the Vault,” he notes. “Or at least disabling it.”

Honestly, that just saves him work down the line. Pandora’s Vault never should have been built, and Vio now has a personal vendetta against it.

The damn box won't stay standing for long. Vio plans to tear it down, one way or another.

He gives a low whistle as the front starts bubbling, then melts into a hissing pile of goo.

It seems that Hero is unhappy about being called in for work, and/or angling for a bonus.

…Or trying to start a cult again.

Sam has his hands tied, a dazed expression, and isn't resisting as Hero pulls him along.

“That's not a dog,” the creeper mumbles to himself. “A dog can't…do those things.”

Hero drops the rope at Vio’s feet.

Hero: 1 week

Hero: no pay = no sanity

“I will make sure you get your payment of one chest of prismarine blocks and/or bricks within a week, yes. Thank you for your assistance, you’re free to go.”

A too-sharp grin is given, and the group watches as Hero trots off into the distance.

Tommy whispers, “I have the coolest fuckin’ boss.”

======

Sam had been shockingly docile as he was dragged up to the tundra, where Dream, Sapnap, and a few others were waiting.

The rest of the server had packed themselves into the piglin hybrid’s cabin, everyone having agreed that it was best not to do this outside.

Not just for Dream’s health, but because it’s cold and Vio was blunt about not being willing to deal with that.

Sam, having been more thoroughly restrained, finally seems to shake off some of his stupor as Vio clears his throat.

“I trust that everyone has seen the evidence of what Sam permitted and/or did himself?”

Dream mutters, “Just ask if they’ve seen me.” “Very well, then; has everyone seen what a terrible state Dream is in?”

The admin makes a noise of displeasure, evidently having not expected that Vio would actually respond like that. Joke’s on him, though; Vio can snark right back and be stubborn enough to make the man give up.

Tommy is the first to speak up. “It’s fuckin’ awful. I might not be Dream’s biggest fan–” The admin rolls his eyes at that. “--But this? Fuck– I thought he’d be– I dunno, reformed or some shit! Not tortured.”

“He scares me,” Ranboo admits. “But– I mean, knowing Sam is capable of that…that scares me more. He even locked Vio, Phil, Sapnap, and Bad up! Just for trying to check on Dream. If that’s not corruption, I don’t know what is.”

Philza says, flatly, “I can’t unlearn that the Void is eldritch. Or stop having nightmares about falling through it.”

“And isn’t that the biggest crime of all,” Dream snickers. “See, Sam? You traumatized an old man for nothing.”

Sam glares at him, which makes Dream immediately shut his mouth and sink down in his seat. “Sorry, Sir,” he murmurs, eyes trained on the floor.

It takes a wave of whispering before Dream shakes off the blatant conditioning, and seems mortified at the slipup.

Vio whistles to get their attention. “Now, we should discuss what should be done about this.”

“Lock him up,” Ponk says, “Let him see what it’s like to be a rat in a cage!”

“Pandora’s Vault can’t be left standing. Now that the elder guardians and redstone have been destroyed, nothing is stopping us from tearing it down.”

There’s a pregnant pause, and then chaos erupts.

Vio whistles again. “This is non-negotiable! That gods-damned obsidian box is a blight on this server. It can’t be left standing, or there will just be a temptation to solve your problems– our problems– by locking them away.”

Tommy scrubs a hand through his scruffy, fluffy hair. “Sam definitely can’t get off scot fuckin’ free. But…yeah. Yeah. I dunno that I really trust anyone to be in charge of that place. Too fuckin'-- everything about it is wrong. N’ if we’re not using it…doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense to keep it standing.”

The teen jerks his thumb towards Dream. “Once he can stand more’n, what, like two fuckin’ minutes at a time? Pro’lly’ll want to help. Cathartic, n’ whatnot. Therapeutic, even.”

“...That actually does sounds nice,” Dream admits. “If nothing else, I want to watch it go down.”

Sam protests, “You can't just–! If Dream wants it gone–” “You lost any shred of credibility a while ago. I don’t even think anyone wants Dream to be punished further,” Vio scoffs.

With a sarcastic slow clap, he says, “Congratulations. Thanks to your inhumane and stupid efforts, Dream has served his sentence in record time! Since, I mean– he was sentenced, right? And you're only trying to ensure that the will of the server is upheld. Surely such an upright, moral person wouldn't just blindly insist on enacting cruelty as a means to keep power for himself.”

Those in eyesight look awkward. Dream comments, “...So about how I wasn't actually tried–” “I'm fully aware, I was just being sarcastic to point out some of the many flaws in his logic.”

Next, Sam tries, “I wanted to make it nicer, but Dream insisted it be made worse.” “You were the one in control, and I very much fucking doubt he wanted Quackity to be let in to torture prisoners. I doubt he even wanted to be neglected to the point of dehydration. Next stupid argument.”

The creeper hybrid’s throat clicks in distress and anger. “You don't understand what he's like!” “I know enough to trust him infinitely more than I trust you.”

Dream clears his throat. “Uh…as crazy as it sounds? If Vio keeps his end of the deal, I don’t need anything else. I'm obviously not great at managing a server, so…I dunno. If tall, dark, and freaky can keep the peace…”

Not looking at anyone, Dream shrugs. “The harder I tried, the worse things got. I'm…fine, with just being another member of the server.”

It takes Vio a moment to process that. “So…you’re stepping down as territory lord?”

At the confused looks he's given, he sighs. “Admin, sorry. SMPza had different rules.” “Oh! I, uh– honestly, I would if I could. Kinda…a lifetime appointment. You'd make a better one, but for…a lot of reasons…I can't really– transfer ownership of the server. Uh…for the, just– stuff I can hand over, I will. But a lot is…complicated. I literally can't make someone else an admin, the server itself won't let me.”

George finally speaks up. “It’s true. Before others were invited, Dream tried making us admins. Didn't work; we only got nasty headaches.”

Dream's weird, cagey answer is one that Vio doesn't feel a need to dig into right this second. “If that part needs to be litigated, it can be. But right now, our focus should be on Sam's punishment. Pandora is out, and we generally agree something must be done.”

Technoblade scratches his chin. “Dream could just make him leave, right? As the admin n’ whatnot.”

The attention of the server focuses on Dream again.

The admin seems torn, but shakes his head. “I got a chance at– at redemption. I can’t…I mean, it can be his choice. If he doesn't want to accept his punishment, or– or violates the terms, he'll leave. But…I can't really– really justify forcing him out. It sends– it's a bad message, right? That making me unhappy results in a ban.”

Making a face, he gestures to Tommy. “I didn't kick him, after all. Despite everything he did. Uh– no offense.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Fuck you.” “You picked fights, stole, griefed, and more. I'm pretty sure I'm justified in pointing out that, despite how– crazy I'd gotten? I never considered just banning you to be an option.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “You…didn't? Why not?”

Dream stares at him. “...Where would you have gone? Do you have– literally any connections that weren't here already? Any money or valuables or like– marketable skills?”

“...No.” “Look, I might have been pissed off at you. I might– still have problems with you. But I was never gonna rob you of everything. Server hopping as a penniless kid gets real ugly real fast. I was crazy and stupid, not a monster.”

Vio smiles. “And, see, that is why I can give Dream the benefit of the doubt. He seems remorseful, and acknowledges that he made quite a few mistakes. Sam, meanwhile…”

“My only mistake was not killing you when I should have,” the ex-warden growls. “Hah! That's funny. Maybe, one day, I'll show you how wildly you've underestimated me,” Vio laughs.

Philza sighs. “If Pandora is out, and so is banning, just give him parole and therapy.” “I would also like to request a restraining order,” Dream adds. “I think that's fair, right? I'm not exactly planning to or even, like– able to leave much, so I just don't want him stomping around here.”

He considers that option.

It's similar to what had been proposed for Dream, just…tweaked a little. “...We can put a tracking program on his com. I'm sure Ponk and Dream will feel better if they can check where he is.”

“I'd feel better if he was dead,” Ponk mutters.

Dream sighs. “I mean– according to Tommy, you just kinda…go to limbo. I'd end up– I'd have to revive him at some point. I really don't want to have to revive him. It's– I mean, I get it. If anyone gets it, it's me. But, uh, it's– I think it's not…productive. Like– we're kicking the problem down the road, right? And causing– uh, limbo apparently has, just– a big time difference. Longer there than here. And it's…another kind of prison, right? So, I mean– since I'd be the, uh, warden, more or less? I'm against it. I don’t– want that kind of power. I don’t want to hold the keys to someone's freedom. All it'll do is cause more problems later.”

It makes perfect sense.

Almost out of reflex, Vio says, “Thank Prime you’re more cooperative than DayDream or Darkza. I'll take this mess over either of them or Theseus deciding I've become a problem.”

Tommy grumbles, “Still a shitty fuckin’ name.” “It had been made extremely clear that you don't use your name for him. He takes offense. You don't want someone called The Blue Death to take offense to something you've done. There's plenty of things and people I'll be casual about. Not him, though; not that family.”

Dream seems fascinated. “Family? I'm– so, wait, you had said everyone was swapped. Who's in that guy's family?”

“The Was-Taken family consists of DayDream, Theseus, Daedalus, Orpheus, and Atlas. The equivalents here are you, Tommy, Tubbo, Wilbur, and Technoblade.”

The admin slowly turns to stare at Tommy, who seems even more sullen.

“...And DayDream is the dad.” “Correct.” “The– SMPza me is dad to that Tommy.” “Not his name, but yes. Along with three others. Or, ah, two and a half. Daedalus is dead and roaming the server as a ghost.”

Dream puts his head in his hands. “...I have so many questions.” “Most people do. I still have questions. I've mostly made my peace with not knowing, though. Small price to pay not to deal with any of that bullshit again. I like it much better here.”

He pauses, then asks, “You aren't able to erase a chunk and then put the bedrock back, right?”

The admin looks horrified. “What the fuck?! No! I wouldn't– like, sure, I did Doomsday–” “We did Doomsday,” Technoblade corrects.

Dream waves his hand. “Not the point! The point is that that's insane! What kind of lunatic would do that, even if they could?!”

Vio’s eyebrows shoot up at the confused distress radiating off of the man.

“Darkza. And, once again– I consider him less of an extant threat than Theseus and DayDream.”

A full-body shudder goes through Dream. “I never want to meet him.” “I'm not religious, but that is one thing I pray for. I never want to see any of them again.”

There’s a murmur in the crowd, who part as Hero trots up.

Instead of going to Vio, though, the not-dog stops in front of Dream. A battered green communicator is delicately placed in his lap.

Vio can see the screen light up with messages.

Hero: you = owe me

“Absolutely the fuck not, you don’t get to do a deed and then demand payment,” Vio reminds him.

They’ve had this discussion many, many times. He’s pretty sure the damn thing knows better and chooses to ignore that fact in hopes of getting more for quote-unquote ‘good deeds’.

Dream stares at the horrorterror, and then asks, slowly, “How…did you know this was mine?”

Hero: tastes = smell

As the admin seems to try to wrap his head around that, Vio sighs, “Some things aren’t worth learning the particulars of, when it comes to him.”

Hero: me = cult

“I told you, no,” Vio groans. “Stop trying to make a cult!”

Hero: fun = yes = good

“Do you see what I have to deal with? There’s enough problems without adding a cult into the mix!”

Sam’s face goes pale. “That– that thing– it talks?!” “Through a com in order not to destroy the sanity of those around us, yes. You’re free to request hearing his true voice if you want, I just need a few consent forms and witnesses. I can treat a lot of things, but eldritch madness isn’t one of them.”

Vio gestures at Dream, whose eyes narrow slightly in confusion. “I sedated him so that the Void didn’t leave him a drooling, feral madman when we walked through it to escape your stupid obsidian box. Something that, evidently, traumatized Philza.”

“Phil keeps staring out the window and muttering vaguely about the whole thing, yeah,” Dream tattles. “Oi, you little shit–”

“Aren’t you fuckin’ married to Lady Death? How d’you not already know that,” Tommy asks, expression baffled. “N’ why is it so fuckin’ freaky t’you, anyway?”

He’s what now.

Vio’s com pings.

Hero: dark = same

Hero: smell = yes

Well, that explains…a few things, at least.

“Even more of a reason not to go back,” he mutters, lip curling a little. “I don’t need to deal with that bullshit unless I’m forced to.”

Philza hisses at his son, “You didn’t walk through the Prime-damned Void, Tommy!” “I could,” Tommy scoffs, arms folding over his chest, “If my cool, awesome, sickass boss–”

Sighing, Vio interrupts with, “I will consider it if and only if you’re able to tolerate other eldritch nonsense to my satisfaction and Puffy gives you a green light. I prefer your brain not to be liquified.”

Ranboo looks concerned. “That’s– that’s an exaggeration, right?”

It’s definitely not. “Of course,” he lies, wary of the gleam in Tubbo’s eyes.

Last thing he needs is for one of his team members to start experimenting with eldritch madness.

He’s already run those experiments and gotten the results he needed from them, after all! No sense in running them again on much less expendable people.

Bending down a little, he stares the now-ex Warden in the eyes. “Back on topic, though. Sam, you will cooperate with these terms or else. Do not test me. If you fuck up my patient’s long, arduous recovery, you’re not going to get a chance to politely leave. Stay the fuck away from this area as a whole. Don’t tamper with your tracker, once we get it on you. I don’t particularly want to have to strongarm you into compliance. I think it sends a nasty message that would make everyone uneasy.”

His voice drops, tone grave. “But I will, if you make me.”

Sam’s pupils are blown wide, his fur standing on end.

“Are you going to make me, Sam? Do I need to treat you like a child who can’t stop throwing tantrums?”

The creeper hybrid’s throat clicks in distress as he shakes his head. He’s still staring at Vio, hindbrain clearly screaming at him too loudly to dare look away.

Beaming wide enough to reveal his too-sharp teeth, Vio tells him, “Excellent.”

He withdraws a throwing knife and slices the ropes. “Thank whatever gods you pray to that I’m determined to set this server on the right path. If I weren’t…well. No need to get into specifics, hmm? I’m sure you can come up with dozens of torments to haunt your own nightmares.”

Stepping back, he smiles cheerfully at the ex-Warden. “Run along now, Sam. Run and take a long, hard, thorough inventory of your actions. I expect to hear good things from your therapy sessions!”

The creeper hybrid bolts out the door, racing into the snow.

Ahh, he does so enjoy putting the fear of gods he doesn’t like into people he doesn’t like.

“Holy shit,” Dream breathes, sounding awed. “I could kiss you right now.” “If you actually try it, I’ll sedate you again,” Vio warns. “It was a joke.” “I’m making it clear that I have zero interest.”

Dream rolls his eyes at that, muttering, “Really feeling the love, Vio.” “It would be fifty kinds of fucked up if I did have an interest.”

None of them appeal to him in that capacity, actually. Hell, most of his own kind wouldn’t, either– he’s pretty sure he’s what he’s heard called an aromantic-asexual.

Probably for the best. He’s not entirely sure what his lifespan looks like compared to an average person’s.

Hell, he’s not even sure what his age works out as right now.

He might be five, he might be fifty. By the time he was coherent enough to actually try to figure that out, he had lost whatever sense of relation he had to what a year was on his original planet.

Tubbo sidles up to him, eyes still twinkling in fascination. “So, bossman–” “No, you may not experiment with eldritch bullshit on your own time. Yes, you might be allowed to see the Void if you meet the previously mentioned criteria. If you attempt to go around me and abuse your access to Hero, I will be extremely unhappy.”

The goat hybrid huffs. “Spoilsport.” “Yes, how dare I ruin your fun by not letting you fuck around with forces beyond your comprehension. Gods forbid I want you to stay relatively sane,” he sighs.

Ranboo mutters, “Relatively.” “Hey!” “I mean, you are trying to experiment with an eldritch abomination, so–” “Or the Void! I could be the first person to study the actual fucking Void, ‘Boo!” “Or you could not! That’s also an option!”

Vio sighs again, tuning out the sound of their bickering.

He may be ending it on a high note, but it has still been a long day.

Not that much physical effort took place, no, but…plenty of emotional and social effort was exerted.

There’s no doubt in his mind that this is only the first of countless steps; the biggest fire to put out before less critical ones are tended to.

He’s not exactly had ideal server management modeled for him, after all. There will doubtlessly be countless hiccups and missteps as he and everyone else learn how to make this all work.

But that’s okay. As long as nobody comes out swinging, he can restrain himself from going for the throat in retaliation.

…Probably. Hopefully.

Maybe he should do some soul searching of his own and see if there’s a god he can stomach praying to after all.

Chapter Text

The cold air of the arctic tundra nearly burns, but Dream can’t bring himself to stop going and sitting on the porch.

No matter how much Vio nags and bitches about it, the icy wind, clean smell, and white-dusted spruce trees are too precious to miss.

It's still too quiet, of course. But by Prime is it an improvement over the hellish box he was trapped inside.

He was a fool. A stupid, ignorant fool who took too much for granted.

The price he's paid is extreme.

There are nights he wakes up to phantom sensations, then weeps at the sheer magnitude of what he's lost.

His reminiscing– done on a rocking chair that Vio forced him to accept– is interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

Given how much time he spends outside, it was kind of a given that he'd learn what it sounds like when the usual suspects approach.

It's not Techno, Phil, nor Vio. His friends have been cautiously visiting to try and repair the bonds Dream assumed had fractured beyond repair, but it’s not any of them, either.

Only two legs, though, so it can't be Sam. They don't sound heavy, either, and their stride is steady.

Despite how many people he can rule out, it's still a surprise when he sees Tommy.

Shit. He really hoped the kid wouldn't come here to pick a fight, but–

Tommy pauses, then holds his hands up. “Not here to do anything but fuckin’ talk. I don’t even have my armor on, see?”

…Huh. He sure doesn't.

Dream eases himself back onto his chair.

“...Okay. But I'm pretty sure Vio's not-dog lurks around. Not sure why, but, like– just know that if you do anything, Vio will probably find out about it.”

There's a bark of laughter as Tommy climbs the steps and plops down in the seat next to Dream.

His usual one has a twin, for when Techno feels like keeping him company.

It takes several long minutes of Tommy fidgeting with his jacket before the kid asks, “Why'd you fuckin'-- do any of the stuff you did? To me, to– to everyone.”

He eyes him sidelong. Tommy sighs. “I'm serious. N’...I'll listen. I just– don't understand why. Puffy says I gotta fuckin'-- confront my fears, n’ whatever.”

Dream is reasonably sure that this isn't what she had in mind. He still doubts most of the server isn't waiting for him to do the same things again, but worse.

Fuck that, though. He’s gotten the thing he wanted, even if it was by accident and at immense cost to himself.

“...Seriously?” “You’re always fuckin’ cagey when asked why. But, I mean– shit, don't you wanna be understood? Have– have a fuckin’ chance to tell your side?”

Against all odds, he does.

He sighs, sending a silent prayer that this won't fuck him over later. “...I wanted the fighting to stop,” he admits. “It started with Wilbur and L'manburg. I didn't– I didn't invite people here, into my home, for them to start wars and create division! I thought that if I crushed it hard enough, everyone would decide it wasn't worth the price.”

“But we kept fighting.” “Yeah. Over nations and factions and petty bullshit. I got…desperate. I did– did a lot of stupid, cruel, dangerous things. I thought that one of them would be the magic bullet.”

He shrugs, helpless and a little bitter. “I thought exile might stop you, after all. I don’t know why I latched onto– onto you, as the catalyst. But at the time…like I said; I was desperate.”

Tommy searches his face. Dream isn't sure what he's looking for, and if he sees whatever that thing is.

Slowly, Tommy says, “So…you thought that fuckin’ nightmare would– do what?”

“It kept changing. The goal was just– just to make you stop. Stop picking fights, stealing, being at the center of just about every major conflict on the server. But…”

He hesitates. Does he have any right to even say the words?

Spurred by the memory of his fear and how the haze had briefly been broken, he confesses, “I didn't realize how extreme it was. I didn't– the circumstances, your mental state– fuck, I never wanted that. I never– I don’t think you'll ever understand how guilty I felt, seeing that tower–”

“I do.” Tommy’s voice is oddly small. He slumps in the rocking chair, fussing with the fastenings of his jacket. Eyes fixed on the garment and not Dream, Tommy says, “I've blamed myself for not stopping Will every fuckin’ day since he died. I was the one with him in Pogtopia; I was the one who knew about his fuckin’ plans; I was the one who could've saved him–”

Oh. He had…lost sight of that fact.

Wilbur's death must have weighed heavily on Tommy.

Quietly, he says, “If I had the strength, I'd bring him back now.”

Tommy lifts his head, eyes glistening slightly. There’s a flash of grief, and then he shakes his head. “No– not…not right away. You know him. He's– Will is real fuckin’ good at twisting shit in his favor. I…I wanna have the server– have all of us ready for him. ‘Cause he'll– he'll be himself. N’ I don't…wanna backslide. I'm tired of being fuckin’ scared. I'm–! I wanna feel safe! I wanna live, not fight n’ scrape to keep breathing!”

It's like the air has been punched out of his lungs.

He grabs Tommy’s hands, making the teen startle. “Yes! Fuck, yes, exactly! That's why– why I invited everyone here! People who were lost, who had nothing, who needed a home– I wanted to give it to them. I– I know I fucked up, but I want to–”

Tommy’s eyes are wide. He squeezes Dream’s hands back, blurting, “We fucked up, too! N'-- I've been, shit, I've done a lot of it! I– I miss the times before fuckin’ L'manburg, I miss when a fight meant us stealing the fuckin’ discs–”

“I miss it, too. But I mean– I don't think we can ever go back,” Dream says.

The teen opens his mouth, probably to argue, but Dream cuts him off. “We've been through too much to pretend it never happened. But…I think– I think we can have something better. With actual– actually fucking talking to each other! Prime knows that if anyone can strongarm us into peaceful cooperation, it's Vio.”

A loud, relieved laugh is barked out by Tommy. Grinning, he agrees, “Yeah, s’ a stubborn fuckin’ bastard. Wouldn't wanna piss him off.” “I've been pushing my luck by spending so much time outside. But it’s…”

He shrugs. “You spent time in that hellhole. You can imagine why I kinda need this, right?”

Tommy flinches, and Dream finds himself feeling guilty.

“Yeah. It was…fuckin’ miserable.”

He squeezes Tommy’s hands, telling him, “I don't– don't blame you for that part. Not really. I mean– I know I…could have been helped. But at the time, with how everyone was…? It was inevitable. I was in– I was getting worse. I would have done worse.”

“Nobody fuckin’ deserves–” “It’s not about deserving it. I don’t– the torture wasn't justified. The Warden being– the way he was, I didn't deserve that, either. But…something had to give.”

Dream shrugs, gaze skittering away. “So– just know that of all the stuff I do think you’re guilty of…that's not one of them.”

“I took two've your lives. Revive book or fuckin’ no, if you die again–”

He can't help but laugh at that.

Gods above, he really found out after fucking around.

The truth is, quite literally, impossible to convey. Instead, he says, “I still have some tricks up my sleeve. Besides; Vio would drag me out of the afterlife himself. He's made his stance on my death pretty damn clear.”

Tommy squints his eyes. “The fuck can you do against death?”

…It’s been a while since he confessed this particular sin.

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Tommy reels in shock and–

His expression quickly shifts to a confused one. “I– shit, I think I zoned out. Did you say something?”

That's how it always goes.

Dream shakes his head. “Nevermind. Don't worry about it.”

He pulls his hands back, then throws the blanket he’s using over Tommy, too.

As Tommy looks at it in surprise, Dream extends his hand again. “We might not be able to go back to before all the strife, but…maybe we can be friends again.”

With a wry smile, he admits, “I kinda miss being friends. You were– I dunno, almost like the little brother I never had? I had fun. I…want to have something like that again. With you, I mean.”

Tommy stares at him in that searching way again, and then–

Gives him a hug.

It's awkward, and too tight, and maybe they're both tearing up a little even though they're also laughing.

But Dream can finally see a path forward.

Because if he can mend his relationship with Tommy, of all people…

Surely he can manage to be on decent terms with everyone else.