Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

    Silence. 

    Something that was so easy to break and yet more often than not it seemed like no one was ever brave enough to do it. Dream took in the silence of the area around him. The chill of it. The way the stone behind him was digging into his spine and sparking a bit of pain into his body. 

    He could focus. 

    He could do this. He just had to breathe. 

    That’s what his family would tell him. 

    Breathe. 

    Just breathe.

    The pain helped him to focus despite that he knew that wasn’t exactly the most healthy thing he could be doing right now. He knew that and yet he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop himself from pushing closer into the wall and feeling the way the stone ground into his flesh so that he would remember what it was like. 

    Restrained to a table. Screaming louder than his lungs would allow. The bars of the cells and his family around him. 

    Dream was more than that. He knew that he was more than that. 

    He was the Leading Knight of his nation. He was the Standard of knights for the realm. He was the mark point that was in charge of almost anything else the rest of them did. He was the one they looked to. 

    He was the one that his squires looked to. 

    Dream knew what he was. 

    Sir Dream of Central. The Prince’s Hand. The Kingdom’s Bloody Jewel. 

    Death. 

    A few years ago Dream had just been that. Nothing more and nothing less. He’d been a man who honored the things he was determined to. A man that turned against his past because he refused to be like the monster that haunted it. 

    Their world had no monsters. That’s what he’d always believed. That the only monsters they had were people. The only monsters they could truly possess were the humans that let their greed and lust for power win over anything else. 

    He wasn’t sure if he knew better now or not. 

    Dream dug his fingers into his arms. His gloves were tucked into his belt. He’d taken them off the moment he realized that he needed to be alone. That he was going to crash and he should be reaching for his family but that he would hide instead. 

    A few years ago Dream was strong and powerful. He was the man that had ended Central’s war with the East. He was the knight that was equal to armies on his own. The one person that walked into a battlefield against their enemies and watched them cower in fear because of him. 

    His mask and his green against Central’s blue left a mark in the hearts of their opponents. Danger in the white horse that carried the Phantom Knight. Horror in the blade named Nightmare and the bloodshed she held. 

    A year later he was taking in three squires. Three that had taken to him so quickly Dream hadn’t really known what to do with himself. He knew that he was meant to be their marker. He was meant to be their teacher and sure they were supposed to have a bond but he’d been afraid of it to begin. He’d aimed for something like older brother with his younger ones. Dream had tried for that. 

    For the sake of his fear he’d barred himself from being anything else. 

    He’d learned. 

    A year ago, was it still only just a year? Dream permitted himself to feel what he actually had become. 

    A father to the three boys he’d taken in. Waking up in Central’s infirmary and hearing Tommy call him Dad. Hearing his kids call for him and the way they defended him at any moment. It was more than something a knight and squire’s would have. It was something more like a family. 

    The same kind of family that Dream had forged with his own knight light when he was a young boy. The same thing he held with the ones that he loved. But now he was in the role that he’d been afraid of since he was four. 

    He’d become a father. 

    His memories turned hazy. Flickering and melding with each other. Spinning and blurring and making him feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t know what to do with himself. If this was going to keep going or not, if he was going to faint. 

    Dream dug his nails hard into his skin. Reaching up when his arms weren’t enough and gripping into his neck. 

    He tried to breathe. 

    Just breathe. 

    He wanted to run. 

    Dream had watched his three squires. He’d seen the way they all took up the hatred he held for his titles. He knew they understood the weight of them in the same way that he did now. That they knew the meanings that sat behind one and that they were something that weren’t meant to be thrown lightly as so many people liked to do. 

    It wasn’t fair to the knight. It wasn’t fair to the people the title was earned from.

    Dream had killed hundreds. Hands scarred and still steady. 

    He hated that they were steady. 

    That Nightmare didn’t waver. That despite all his hate and all he’d tried to do to maim himself so that he wouldn’t kill again he didn’t hesitate and he didn’t stutter in his hold. Years of training and fighting. Years ingrained into him on how to kill. 

    There was only one person in the war against the East that had fought him and his war partner and lived to tell the tale. 

    Dream felt his skin under his nails. He needed to stop. He knew that he needed to stop. He was going to leave a mark and if he did that then George was going to know. Sam was going to know. All of their family was going to know. 

    His squires held titles now. All of them in their own right. They’d all been through a war now because of him. They were his squires and he was meant to protect them. 

    He’d failed in that. 

    They’d all carried parts of him. Their pride and idiocy. Their determination and their heart in a fight. They were smart. He’d seen the inventions that Tubbo came up with. He’d seen the skill that he had in his craft and how impressive they were in action. He’d seen Ranboo’s notes and he’d seen that knowledge be put to work in a fight. Stealth that matched up to Punz in almost striking similarity. It reminded him of all the times he and Punz and Sapnap were younger and the three of them would practice their training on each other. How they would work with one another to see just how far they could push things. 

    And then there was Tommy. 

    His primary squire that held so much closeness to him that his title had been given to him for being Dream’s mirror. 

    Mirror Knight. 

    Dream wondered if their people knew that mirror was shattered now. 

    If they knew that the West had broken that attachment and ground the shards of it into dust before they could try to glue themselves back together. 

    Dream felt his heart pushing hard against his ribs. He felt the pain lancing through his lungs and squeezed his eyes shut tight. Swallowing back bile that was washing up his throat and threatening to gag him. 

    He was recovering. He knew that. He was allowed to not be alright. He knew that. He wasn’t meant to be alright right now. 

    Dream knew that. 

    He did. Really. 

“You’re at home. You’re fine.”

    He wasn’t. It just helped him to talk like he was. To force himself into focus even when the world felt like it was melting out around him. His brain didn’t want to focus on anything but he made it work. 

    For five days they’d been back in Central’s palace. 

    Five days since they’d made it back home and Dream had been hidden away from all of their people once again. He knew that his presence was noted when the lack of him on Spirit spread through the capital and the palace. Servants he knew were asking about him. People who were on staff here were trying to figure out what was wrong. What had happened that he wasn’t riding on his horse. Why she was being looked after by anyone other than him. 

    Dream remembered them making it into the palace walls. Into the safety that he’d been missing for what felt like ages. His body hurting and still he knew he wasn’t the major priority. 

    He knew that the other wagon mattered more than he did. 

    He agreed. 

    The change of power in the West. Mason became the King. Mason ended the war. He brought peace back into the Compass and all of them had celebrated. Still nursing their wounds but able to make it through the celebration. The whole day spent with joy and laughter. 

    When the night came, things changed. 

    Dream had been woken up by the sounds of running in the hall in front of his room. Sam sitting with him and telling him to wait until he could check to see what was happening. Dream had been left there for what felt like hours until his old knight came back. Until he was grabbing his hand and telling him that George had collapsed. 

    He’d spiked a fever. 

    Going from running cold and feeling fairly normal to burning up hot enough that they were considering putting him in ice. As much as Dream wanted to get to him to help him he knew that he couldn’t. 

    That he was a liability. 

    He loved George. 

    His Prince, his everything. The very reason he let his heart remain beating and still he found himself afraid to be near him in the moment. He knew what would happen if he tried to get close to George right now and let his guard down. 

    If his lover was hurting already now then Dream was only going to be more of a risk to him. 

    He wouldn’t allow for that. 

    They’d stayed in the Western palace for weeks. Until most of them were stable enough to move. Until they’d had enough time to rest that they thought they could make the trek back to their home. 

    Mason gave them all supplies. He’d checked on them all. He’d guarded them all. 

    Dream knew when they made it back to their home the one leading the front had been Sam. He knew that he’d led them into their home with three empty horses beside him. 

    He’d watched from a crack in the flap of his wagon. Seen the way his Queen came running down the stairs with her knight flanking her side. How she had shook her head no to deny what she was afraid of. How quickly Sam had dismounted to take her to the wagon in front of Dream’s own. Looking inside to find the remaining royals of the kingdom. 

    Dream watched George be carried in his King’s arms. He watched his lover hurt and suffer but be brought into the palace. 

    Five days. 

    It was only five days. 

    Dream had been making great progress on what he was going before. He’d made progress on how he was handling holding his weapons and how he was getting his body back into function from the effects of the arena on him. He was in pain more often than not but he could handle it. It wasn’t anything that was really that big of a deal. It wasn’t something he was concerned about. 

    Five days. 

    Five days and George had seemed to heal almost like a miracle in that time. He’d been up again and walking and his fever had broken. Dream knew that their recoveries weren’t going to be easy. He knew with all the things that happened in the arena between the fighting and the Stars and the supposed God that all of them seemed to believe happened. The alchemy. With all of that happening he knew that they were going to have fluctuations in what happened to them. They were going to need different things on different days and they would have to work together. 

    But everyone else was getting better. 

    Five days since they’d been back home and it looked like everyone else was getting better. Dream watched George heal and move around and talk. He watched all of his knights and soldiers moving back with their friends and their families. He saw them laughing with each other and enjoying the peace that was brought by all of them being done with their fighting now. 

    The calm they had. 

    Five days. 

    Five days and his royals were hosting a ball to celebrate the end of it all. A Central tradition to honor the knights and soldiers that had fought and died for their peace. That had fought and battled to make it back home to the rest of them. 

    There had been a ball before that Dream was the main focus of. He was the one that everyone was looking to until he’d gotten Technoblade to join in as well. The two of them leading the bloodiest front in that war. The two of them holding their own against the battleground of politics. 

    Dream would be in this one again as well. The people wanting to see him and needing the proof that their Leading Knight was still fit for the job. That he was still capable and still the knight they knew him as. 

    Dream was the nation’s morale in a war. He knew that. He’d known that for years now. But with the way things had gone after this last one he wasn’t sure he had it in him to continue pretending that he was alright with the things that happened. 

    He’d thought he would walk out with his squire’s by his sides. That he would be with his family every step of the way as they continued to grow. 

    But he was wrong about that too. 

    Dream forced his lungs to take in air. He forced himself to breathe in around the fact that he was struggling in the moment. That he didn’t know what he was doing. He was a knight with a job to be doing right now. For the service of his crown he was meant to be standing in the ballroom. George was going to be looking for him. George was going to be worried about him.

    It was bad enough that he’d been sleeping in his room in the barracks instead of up in George’s bed like he normally did. He’d wanted the distance between them just in case he would do something in his sleep. 

    Just in case he—

    Dream choked. A sob threatening to tear itself from his throat against his will. He didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know what he was meant to be doing with himself when it felt like the whole world was trying to make itself tear apart. 

    When he—

“Get it together.”

    He cursed the whisper to himself. Pulling his hands away from his neck and taking his gloves from his belt. Feeling the dark leather slide across the scars that covered his palms before he was reaching up to his neck and covering himself there as well. Shifting the cloth of his tunic under his armor so that it would cover just a bit higher than his gorget would 

    Dream forced himself to stand. Feeling his legs shake for a moment as his knees struggled to remember how to handle the weight. He hadn’t been back in his armor until tonight. He hadn’t been wearing his netherite or wearing the weight of his cape behind him. It was comforting as much as it felt like it was going to drag him down to the ground. He could hold on. He could manage with it. It wasn't that big of a deal. 

    Until he was holding onto the wall to keep himself standing. Until he was still feeling his heart beating too fast and the sounds of people at the top of the stairs weren’t helping. 

    He was a knight who had been through war after war. He was capable of handling something like this. He would find George. He would pretend that the West hadn’t hurt him. That they didn’t have him screaming and choking on nightmares night after night that got so violent he would throw up in his bathroom until he passed out there. They didn’t need to know how many times Sapnap or Punz found him in the past five days. How Sam was scared to leave him on his own for more than a few hours at a time. 

    How he felt like he was broken. 

        How he felt like he was going insane. 

    The questions he was asked made sense. They were something that he understood and he knew why his family was asking him every so often over the things he remembered and the situation they were in. he knew. He understood. Dream did. But it was also the fact that it made him feel more like an experiment than it did a person. He felt like he was losing his mind. Like he was going insane and there was nothing any of them could do to stop it. 

    Like he was already dead. 

    He hated being looked at like he was already dead. 

    Dream bent his neck to feel the sting of his nail marks against the cloth of his shirt. He clenched his hands into fists to feel the scars against the leather. 

    He took a deep breath. 

    The duty of a knight. The duty he had to his crown and to his lover. The act that he was going to need to perform. Dream braced himself. He readied himself just like he would for a battle. 

    He joined into the ball. 

    The energy shift that happened when Dream entered the ballroom was nearly immediate. People turning their heads and gawking at him as he moved. Green cape fluttering behind him but Nightmare no where to be seen. 

    For the eyes of their people George knew that was going to be taken as the blade being too large for the room and the task at hand. That the weapon was too famed to be handled here in close quarters with so many people who would technically be considered innocents. 

    With the way he saw some of them eyeing up his lover, George hesitated to agree. 

    He knew that their people weren’t going to think anything of it that Dream didn’t have Nightmare on him. As it was though, he could see the pain Dream was hiding. He could see how stiffly he was holding himself and how tense he was. The mask was safely tucked into place despite him knowing that his lover wanted to start moving himself away from it. He just wasn’t ready yet and that was fine. He didn’t wear it most days. For this, he would. 

    George would remove hands if anyone tried to take it from him. 

    One month since the end of the war. 

    One month since they were all standing in the West and their people were dying around them. Since the arena had fallen and the knights were set free. One month since their family was abused and suffering so horribly they weren’t sure that they were going to be making it out of any of it alive. 

    Too many times George has woken up to being held by his parents. Listening to them cry and beg for him to come back to them. Too many times he’s seen Phil checking on him with worry in his eyes. 

    He felt fine. He felt alright for all things considered. 

    For a night like tonight. 

    George watched Dream scan the crowd. He watched his knight take in his position and immediately make his line for him. 

    All the power and grace that Dream held but still George could see that there was something wrong. That he was in pain. That he was forcing himself into something he wasn’t ready for. 

    Dream had been tortured. 

    Harmed with alchemy and starvation. With the serum. 

    The drug to strip away free will. The drug that was banned and barred and all stores of it being hunted down and destroyed by knights all around the Compass Kingdoms. It was a power that was too easily abused. Something that couldn’t be trusted in the hands of any one person. It wasn’t meant to be theirs. 

    It was never meant to be theirs. 

    But the fighting hadn’t ended out in the battlefields of the West. George knew that. He could still smell the smoke and ash here in the palace if he was paying attention for it. Despite how much everyone cleaned and tried to fill it in with new smells he could still feel it sticking to the quartz of the walls and floors. 

    He was missing a friend. 

    When he’d first gotten up after their return to the palace he’d wanted to find everyone. He’d wanted to see what all had happened while he’d been gone and away. The last thing he knew was that there was a traitor in the palace. They’d figured that much out but they hadn’t figured out who it was. Clues stacking on clues but he’d needed to leave before things were too late and he hadn’t seen the resolve. 

    One month later and they sti9ll had no resolve. 

    All they had were deaths. 

    An explosion that went off through the ballroom. Surrounding the knights hall and the throne room. Blocking them both in like they were trying to consume the areas with fire. 

    Twenty deaths. 

    George had placed Wilbur’s guitar on his grave the moment he’d found out. 

“George,”

    Dream reached him with more relief in his voice than he thought he would get. He knew that he was struggling and he knew that Dream was avoiding him. They’d talked about it already. Sorting out what they needed while they both recovered and trying to make it as easy as possible. 

    Dream had been stripped of his will. He was still recovering it. 

    He’d seen moments where it was like nothing had happened at all. Where Dream was just talking to all of them and everything was fine. They were smiling and laughing and joking with each other. They were a family. Other moments he’d seen Dream staring into nothing and listening the second he was asked to do something. Other moments George had seen him violent, confused, it hurt. To know that Dream was trying so hard to fight and recover and make it back to them as intact as he could be and that he was struggling so much. 

    They’d all known this was going to happen. They’d known what this new type of serum could do and they’d known that Dream was going to be hurting for a long time after. 

    It wasn’t his fault. George would never blame him. He just worried. 

“If one more person tries to touch me I’m going to lose it.”

    He could hear the sarcasm in his voice. The attempt of lighthearted banter but George still felt himself lock up at the words. 

    The real reason Dream wasn’t wearing Nightmare. 

    The battle axe that had gone through wars with him. The weapon that had hundreds of deaths to her name that Dream handled more like an extension of himself rather than a weapon. If he got confused here tonight in front of all of these people then his axe was only going to solidify the need to fight. It was going to set him over and if Dream hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it then George didn’t think he was going to be able to live with himself. 

    He already couldn’t. 

    Dream’s orders. The things he’d done under the serum. The things he was terrified of doing again now as he was healing. 

    Murder Tommy. 

    Murder him. 

    Dream loved them both. Dream had struggled for the entire time that George has known him with feeling like he was going to hurt one of the people that he cared about. It was his greatest fear. Becoming the monster that haunted his past. Becoming anything like his father. 

    Before, Dream would wake up screaming from nightmares of him. He’d wake up terrified and looking around before he realized that he wasn’t in the basement of his childhood home and then, only then, would he actually be able to calm down. 

    Now it was nightmares of a cave. Of war fronts.. Of cells and alchemy. Orders. 

    The two of them stood off to the side together. Watching over the party and seeing as it began to dwindle down. Dream was meant to be here much earlier but George wasn’t going to push him. He knew that he was having a hard time and if he hadn’t shown at all it was only going to give him cause to go check on him after and make sure he was okay. 

    Dream had told him that he needed space. That his fear was going to take over all the time if they were with each other. He was afraid he wasn’t able to control himself. 

    George granted him that space. He just also knew that he needed to feel his lover beside him. Just for a little while. He needed to know that he was still there. That he hadn’t lost him and that he was still fighting his way to be able to make it back to him. 

    He loved Dream. 

    More than his life, he loved Dream. 

“How are you feeling?”

    He asked it quietly. Low enough that no one would be able to hear them. Dream looked around them for a moment. Thinking over the way he wanted to respond before he moved to actually do it. Matching the same soft tone of voice so that they could keep their privacy while still upholding their places as important people of the room. 

“Not well, but I can manage.”

    This war had been George’s war. To his name and his fighting. He needed to be the one standing to watch over the party that celebrated the end of it. That didn’t mean that he wouldn’t leave if Dream wanted to. That he wouldn’t prioritize Dream over anything else in his life. 

    They’d made a deal with each other that they would be fully and completely honest as they recovered. That they wouldn’t lie or hide or sugarcoat anything. That they would only give the truth and the whole truth. 

    George believed Dream. If he said that he could manage then he could manage. 

“Do you want to leave early?”

“I just got here.”

“We could leave together.”

    He listened to Dream give him a bit of a scandalized gasp.

“My Prince, are you using me as your escape route?”

George couldn’t help but chuckle at the antics. Shaking his head at Dream’s posturing before letting his eyes fall back over the crowd laughing and dancing before them. 

    There was still a traitor here. One that was watching and waiting and now with the war over he wasn’t sure they were ever going to find out who it was. All the blood and death they’d caused and George wondered if they were ever going to be brought to justice. 

    His head was hurting. More and more he felt it aching and pulsing through the night but he didn’t want to leave until he was sure that everything was going to be ending smoothly. 

“And how are you?”

    Dream nudged him. Oh so lightly it was barely more than a tap. No one would have even noticed they’d come into contact with each other though he could feel Dream had wanted it to last longer. He’d wanted their touch to never end. 

“My head hurts. I’m just tired.”

    He was exhausted, actually. Forcing himself to keep going even though he knew that he was pushing himself over the edge the more he ran. 

“Maybe you should head to bed.”

“I don’t want to go alone.”

    The words came out of his mouth before he gave them much thought. It felt like the sounds of the party were dimmed around them. Like the only thing that mattered right now was Dream’s response. 

    Dream, who was watching him from behind the mask. Who was hesitating to give his answer. 

“Come to bed with me?”

“Highness…”

    He hated when he called him that. 

“Just to sleep. Nothing else. Just— to remind each other we’re still alive?”

    To say it out loud felt stupid. His doubts and his worries circling around his heart and feeling like they were wanting to crush him like a snake with a vengeance. He waited for Dream to deny him. For his lover to tell him no and tell him he was being an idiot or too pushy or—

“If you agree to restrain me, yes.”

    Restraints. So that if Dream lost control he wouldn’t be able to hurt him. So that if anything were to happen to either of them Dream would have a comfort in knowing that he wouldn’t harm anyone he loved. 

    George took a look around at the party happening around them. He knew that there were going to be questions about where the two of them went. Why Dream was only there for such a short amount of time and why they’d not come back for the end of the event. George didn’t care. Everyone knew they’d only been home for five days. They’d been at war. That made them entitled to a bit of rest. 

    Rest in the arms of what he would call his safety. Rest in the one place George still believed was irreparable safe. 

    He held out his hand to his knight. He offered a smile to the other half of his heart. 

“To bed then, shall we?”

    Dream laughed. George still heard the pain. He took his hand regardless.

“To bed.”

Chapter Text

    Dream wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea of sleeping beside George. Only for the fact that he knew he’d need to be restrained or he wouldn’t actually get any rest. He knew that he was going to have to be tied and struggling and the idea of that in and of itself was enough to push at him in all the wrong ways. 

    But George looked hopeful. He’d seemed so happy when he gave him the answer that Dream didn’t know how to tell him that he was afraid of it. 

    He was afraid of it. 

    Sir Dream of Central. The famed knight who was the equivalent of an army in and of himself. The man who was afraid to sleep in the same bed as his lover. 

    His memories had become choppy. Flashes of things that he’d done and missing gaps where it was too much for anything to have gotten through. Or if it was something worse than the things he remembered and his mind was simply blocking it away from him. 

    He’d seen that happen before. Knights who had witnessed something so traumatic to them that they held no memory of it despite no wound to cause the loss and recency for it to be there. 

    But if what he couldn’t remember was worse than what he could Dream didn’t think he wanted to push to get them back. 

    As he followed George through the hallways and winding staircases, Dream wondered if he was ever going to be the same again after what the arena had done to him. He moved slower now. His old wounds from the cave were acting up. His muscles would tense and spasm where they hadn’t been before. He felt like he was broken and there was nothing he could do to fix himself. Nothing he could do that he would be able to repair the damage that was done to him. 

    Phil told him that wasn’t true. 

    Once they’d made it back to the palace he was one of the first people in the infirmary. Being checked and poked and prodded and interrogated. It was for the sake of everyone’s safety and he knew that. It was so that no one would be hurt by him. 

    He had to go to the infirmary daily. 

    Daily. 

    Every morning he was to report in and do a check. He was supposed to be questioned and watched over. 

    They told him he’d had multiple seizures. Back to back and different lengths and that for a while they weren’t sure if he was going to make it through them. If he was going to live through the night. If he was going to die by the hands of the West. 

    That the only reason he’d managed to pull through was the Western Devil. 

    Dream’s heart broke. 

    It felt so long ago now that it was almost like a different life but Dream knew what he was doing. He knew the weight of the battles and the war that he fought in. He knew the importance of protecting the people around him. 

    He’d lost them. 

    All of them. 

    But one of them came back.

    Farfadox was the one and only reason he was able to survive the arena. The one and only reason he wasn’t killed when he tried to fight back. The only reason he had surrendered into the serum. He knew that Farfa would protect Tommy. That he would protect him. That they would all be okay. 

    He’d trusted him. 

    He’d lived because of it. 

    He—

“Hey.”

    George’s hand squeezed his. Dream took in a breath at the feeling of his lungs aching. Blinking fast when his eyes were burning. 

    They were still in the hallway but they were on the royal floor. The very top of the palace. In the hallway with the archways showing down into the courtyard below. One of the halls that usually was just used for the act of show to maintain the privacy of the floor. Dream could guess they were using it in case anyone came looking for them due to leaving their own event early. 

“Dream?”

    He pulled his eyes back to his lover. The mask was blocking him off but he knew that George was seeing him. He knew his lover was holding to his talent that he was always able to tell. One of the very few people in the world that had always been able to see through his mask. 

“Are you—”

“I’m good.”

    The question of if he was okay was beginning to make him sick. He’d heard it so often over and over and over again that it was just pulsing a headache behind his eyes and through his skull. 

    No. 

    Of course he wasn’t alright. 

    He’d had his freewill stripped away from him after being tortured for days on end. He was forced to murder his son. He was forced to murder his lover. He was used as nothing but a weapon. 

    Before that he’d tried to kill himse—

    He wasn’t there anymore. He couldn't go there anymore. 

    Everyone was treating him like he was made out of glass. Almost everyone. Technoblade hadn’t yet. He’d been easy with him but he didn’t change the way he acted. He didn’t change the banter they would do. He was starting to feel like the only person that still saw him as whole. 

    His old battle partner. Going step for step with him in the war against the East right up until the very end. His ally that had always been there for him. His friend that had led the rescue to free him from the cave. 

    It felt wrong that Techno was the only one feeling safe when he had all of his family around him and trying to engage with him. Dream just couldn’t handle their looks. He couldn’t handle the guilt that felt like it was eating away at his organs by seeing them. The faces they made when he hesitated on something that should be normal. 

    It was exhausting to hide the amount of pain he was in more often than not. 

    They wouldn’t mind. They told him that over and over again so much that it made him dizzy. They were there for the purpose that he was hurt. For the fact that he wasn’t capable. 

    But if Dream wasn’t capable then what was he exactly. 

    If he wasn’t capable then he was nothing, right? That was how it worked. If he wasn’t of use to someone then he had no importance. The only reason to love something like him. 

“Dreamie?”

    George’s hand was on his cheek. Running a cool thumb over his cheek from under the mask. 

    He wanted to melt into the contact. He wanted to allow himself to fall and just press himself into his lover’s touch. He wanted to feel George against him and let his body realize he was actually safe here. That he wasn’t going to be hurt. That things were going to be okay if he could just get himself out of his own head. 

“Bed?”

    He was tired. His thoughts were running too fast for his own good and none of them were staying in a coherent path. It was giving him even worse of a headache the longer they stood. His leg was beginning to ache. His side where the old wound was felt too tight. His neck was starting to throb like it was being burned off his body. His back in the space between his shoulders felt like it was carved open. 

    Despite the fact that his ask sounded pathetic to his own ears, George took mercy on him. His lover didn’t believe that he was okay but he was leading him again in the next breaths so it must have been enough. Taking him through the rest of the hallways and keeping their hands together until they made it in through the doors of the bedroom. 

    Dream breathed it in immediately. 

    Taking in the smell and the sight that he’d missed for what felt like years. 

    The bright blue bedding, the plush carpet, the light the window was giving from the reflecting lanterns down below in the yard for the celebration. It was getting late. They should be going dim now soon. They should be almost all out. Just enough that the scouts on patrol on the wall would be able to see if there was anything going wrong. 

    It smelled safe here. Enough that it was having Dream relax nearly the second he saw it. 

    He had more than enough pleasant memories laying in this bed. Curled up with George and just relaxing with him. Their mornings they shared and the nights before them. The time they would have together to make sure they were safe and sound. The time that they kept for each other and let them both be human despite the roles that they played. 

    Dream reached to his face first. Pulling the mask away from him and letting the air touch his skin. George was moving behind him. Already taking to his normal place to change from his ballroom clothes and into something more comfortable to sleep in. Dream moved to the other side of the room to do the same. 

    They had a routine. 

    Years of doing this coming right back despite the months they’d not been able to. They had their patterns. Even for when Dream was injured, they had their routines. He hated the infirmary more than almost any other room in the palace. He wanted to be away from it. He wanted to be out of it so that he could relax and do the things he needed to do. That was the way that Dream was. 

    Most of the time that meant he was doing his recovery up in George’s room. Secured and tucked away from the rest of the world but still bedridden like he would be down there. 

    Reaching for his armor was easy. A pattern that he knew himself after getting in and out of it for nearly his entire life. 

    He pulled on the straps. Tugging his protection away piece by piece and feeling all the aches in his body that felt like they should be bruised or have some kind of marking and yet, nothing. 

    Not even a single blemish to show the things he was feeling. 

    No mark meant no wound. 

    No mark meant he should be fine. He was holding onto something he shouldn’t. He was the reason he wasn’t recovering. 

    Phil said it was probably something in his head. That he was still stuck in the arena despite the wounds being healed. That he just wasn’t allowing himself to heal even though his body had already done it. He’d wanted to get him to talk about it but how was Dream meant to? How was he supposed to look at the people he loved and tell them that he saw himself killing all of them. How was he meant to look at the people he was supposed to be leading and he couldn’t focus on their faces. How was he supposed to—

“Dream?”

    George’s voice startled him. He hadn’t heard him coming over and it jumped him out of his thoughts almost too violently for him to realize where he was. His vision blurred. His leg began to shake. 

    Between one moment and the next George’s hands were on his arms and he was sitting on the edge of the bed with his lover in front of him to keep him upright. 

“Hey—”

“I’m alright.”

“No, you aren’t.”

    George moved to check on his pulse. Dream couldn’t handle being prodded more. 

    He wanted to be a person again not some thing they had to watch after. 

“Don’t—”

    George did it anyway.

“You’re heart seems fine.”

    It didn’t feel fine. 

“You don’t have a fever and you don’t feel cold either.”

    There was too much heat going through him. 

“Hold out your hands—”

“George—”

“If something is wrong then we need to know sooner rather than later. Hold out your hands.”

    His stomach turned even as he held out his hands. George was just trying to protect him. Watching him nearly die again and again like it was just the every day news was draining on him. He just wanted all of this to end. He wanted them to be okay again. 

    Everyone in their family did. 

    But sometimes Dream felt like he was being treated too much like an item and other times he felt like there was too much pushed on him for him to be able to handle. 

    He couldn’t do this. 

“Only a little shake. That’s,” He hesitated. “That’s fairly normal, now.”

    Dream couldn’t feel them shaking. He didn’t see them shaking. 

“How’s your head? Do you feel faint? Dizzy? Do you think it’s the start of a seizure?”

    He was worried about him. He was trying to help him. 

“No.”

“Dream, be honest with me.”

    He wanted to scream. 

“I am.”

    George wasn’t believing him. Dream felt his stress grow.

    He just wanted to sleep. He just wanted to be done with all of this. He wanted to be able to relax and to breathe and to be okay and he wanted to calm himself down and just be a person. He didn’t want to be something George had to worry about. He didn’t want to be something that was seen as a liar. 

    Dream was taking care of himself. In the ways that he knew how to, he was trying to watch for himself. He told Phil what he was feeling. He told him what he thought was happening and then he got shot down. But he wasn’t the healer. He wasn’t the one that did that. And all the others saw was someone who’d taken a knife to himself and so they didn’t believe him when he said it was his normal. When he said he was okay. When—

“We can’t help you if you don’t trust us.”

    Heat was in his face. 

“Dreamie, Love, you aren’t in the arena. You aren’t in the cave. It’s—

“George—”

“You can tell me the truth.”

“I am.”

    Dream felt the first tear fall. He felt the line go down his face and then he couldn’t stop the rest. He felt the tightness in his throat but he was trying to make George understand. He needed him to understand. He was trying as hard as he could to get things together and done but he couldn’t—

“Dream—”

“I’m telling the truth. I’m not lying. I—”

    He’d never lied to George. He’d never wanted to lie to George. But it was for their both their safety to assume that he was. 

“I already feel like I’m losing my mind. I—”

“Dream.”

    He couldn’t breathe. 

“I didn’t want to— I’m not—”

“Dreamie—”

“I’m sorry—”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

    George was holding him. In front of him and gentle and all his worry showing clearly on his face. He was trying to help him as much as he could but he could see the worry that was there. He could see the fear that was in his eyes and the regret that blended in with it. 

“I’m sorry, Dream. I’m sorry.”

    He heard the honesty. 

“I know you’re trying. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I’m just—”

“You’re worried.”

    He didn’t want George to blame himself. He didn’t want his lover to think he was at fault for the fact that Dream couldn’t control his own emotions. He loved George. 

    He loved everything George did. 

    He just didn’t feel like he was a person anymore. He didn’t—

“If you say you’re alright then you’re alright. I trust you. Dream, I will always trust you.”

    He knew that. George would trust him. George trusted the man that he loved. George trusted the knight that had been through through everything and the one that was trying to make sure the world was a good and better place. George trusted the person that he’d fallen in love with. 

    Dream wasn’t sure that was still him. 

    Stress eating away at him at every moment. His vision going hazy and his mind spinning. He was driving himself up a wall and he didn’t know how to come down. He was going to run out of air in an open room. He was—

    It felt like he’d blinked. 

    Just a moments difference with his eyes squeezed shut tight and then he was tucked against George’s chest. His lover holding him close and rocking him with a hand resting on his back. The spot that had always meant comfort to Dream but had hurt to be touched by nearly everyone. 

    George’s hands were cool. Always had been but now they seemed even more so. Like ice being rested against his skin and helping him numb out the feelings of burning cuts that were there. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

    Dream clung to him. Showing him his weakness and showing him his pain and his hurt. He didn’t know what he was doing with himself anymore. He didn’t know what else he was meant to be doing for himself. He just wanted all of this to end. For all of it to be okay again. 

“I love you, Dream.”

    He felt fear when he tried to say it back. Memories overlapping with each other and making him bury himself in closer. 

“You don’t need to talk if you’re too stressed.”

    More tears rushed from his eyes. Making him cry at the fact that his partner knew him well enough to know that he was just wanting to shut down. 

“Do you want to try to go to sleep?”

    He asked it nearly hesitant. Checking the grounds with him and as much as Dream wanted to sleep, he froze. He wanted to sleep but he wanted to just let his mind turn off. He wanted to just not think of anything at all and let himself be empty. He wanted to just be done with all the things that were going wrong in him. 

    But he couldn’t do that here. 

    Not without restraints being tied around him. Thick leather bands that were padded so he wouldn’t hurt himself and enough give that he could be comfortable but the thought of being restrained right now was enough to make his mind rush back to the arena. 

    To being strapped into the tables for the alchemy. The blinding pain that followed. How his screams had torn his throat enough that he was swallowing down blood as much as he was bile and spit. Like the world was breaking around him and he couldn’t figure out what he was meant to be doing. 

    Dream wanted to sleep. 

    He wanted to be home. 

    He felt like he wasn’t home. 

    He still nodded all the same. 

“Again.”

    A strike.

“Again.”

    Another.

“Again.”

    Tommy felt his lungs burning. He didn’t dare to let himself stop. Another strike into the training post he was working on and Tommy took another breath. 

“Again.”

    He was saying it to himself this time. Forcing himself to keep going no matter how much his lungs were telling him to stop. How much his body was protesting all the movement he was doing. He didn’t want to do this anymore. He didn’t want to fight anymore. 

    He had to. 

    Fighting was the only thing he could trust right now. It was the only thing he could believe in. The only thing that actually felt safe given everything else they’d gone through. Right now Tommy knew that what he was doing was wrong. He knew that if he was caught by any of their family he was going to be in trouble. He would be lectured until his ears felt like they were bleeding but it wasn’t going to be enough. 

    It wasn’t enough. 

    Nothing was ever enough. 

    He’d be turning seventeen soon. He was the same age that Sapnap had been when he was knighted. He wasn’t sure what he was doing with himself right now but he knew it wasn’t what Sapnap had done. 

    Tommy was following like Dream. 

    He was following his knight. 

“Again.”

    Another strike hard into the post. He was going to start breaking it at this rate. He was going to chip apart the wood and splinter and splatter it. He wasn’t going to be able to fix the damage he was causing at this rate. People were going to notice the new marks that were showing up after dark when no one should be out training. 

    He didn’t need a lantern. 

    He didn’t want one. It would give his position away. It was going to take away the things he had planned for himself. 

    Training to make sure that he wasn’t going to be helpless again. 

    Training so that he could take down any of the people he needed to. No matter what. 

“Again.”

    Dream had done things like this. He was fine. Dream had trained himself on his own time after time and it was part of how he became what he is now. He was the knight of knights. He was the one that couldn’t be beaten out by anything or anyone else. 

    That’s what Tommy had always thought. 

    That Dream’s intense amount of training was the thing that protected him from so much. That it was Dream’s resilience against everything else that had protected him and guarded him and he was going to be safe and fine from everything for the rest of their lies. 

    He was an idiot. 

    Tommy knew better now. Dream wasn’t infallible. Dream could be hurt and broken and used. He could be destroyed and it didn’t matter how much they would fight for each other. Dream could fall apart right in front of them and there would be nothing they could do to try to fix him. They would lose him and it wouldn’t be because they weren’t trying. It would be because the rest of the world was too much. 

    He’d lost count of the number of times he’d seen his knight’s heart stop by now. The amount of times he’d seen him unable to walk or struggling to keep his breathing even. 

    Dream was in pain. He was struggling to stay alive. 

    He was pushing himself beyond what he should be able to do. 

“Again.”

    So Tommy recited Dream’s training to himself. Being a super fan of the knight that chose him had its perks. He was able to push himself more ahead than anyone else. He was able to recite all the things that Dream had done through his life and he could do it without missing a beat. He was able to fight. 

    He should always be able to fight. 

    Tommy was Dream’s primary squire. He was the one that was supposed to pick up everything from him. That was meant to become like a smaller version of him until he was able to grow up and become like him. 

    His entire life, Tommy had wanted to become like him. 

    Now?

“Again.”

    Now he was staring at himself in the mirror and asking himself if he was strong enough to fight. He was seeing himself and seeing all the pieces of Dream and struggling to find out who he was in the shatters he saw. He was trying to reconcile the man that he’d known as a boy and the phantom that was left. 

    Dream was nothing but a phantom. 

    Too broken to fight and too afraid to handle his own weapon. He was suffering and he was hurt and it wasn’t fair that these were the thoughts that plagued in his head but it was what he was thinking. It was what he thought through when he thought about the man that had become like a father to him. 

    Hands wrapped tight around his throat. Choking him and strangling him. 

    How he’d laid there on the ground and watched the dead brother he’d never met tell him all these things about their knight and the family he didn’t really know he had. Tommy remembered watching Robin and thinking he was Tubbo. Knowing now the stories about the squire that had died to an arrow through his throat in Dream’s arms. The reason that his knight was so afraid to take in another squire. 

    Learning about the Western Devil. The squire that he didn’t know existed. The squire that Dream hadn’t known he even had. 

    Their family was so fucked and fragmented that he didn’t know if they were going to heal. Part of him wanted to ask if that was because they were ever meant to be together in the first place. 

    Tommy didn’t regret fighting for what he believed in. He didn’t regret signing to be a knight and trying to be like the people he’d watched through the first war with the East. He wanted to mean something and he wanted to prove all the people of his town wrong. That he could be something more than a criminal. That he could amount to anything good. 

    Tommy didn’t regret that. 

    He knew there were great knights that had come from his home. He saw the statue of Technoblade all the time. Tall and proud and the knight had looked at it each time he’d come through with Dream riding by his side. They were together through the fighting. They were together through everything that was needing to be done. They were partners the whole way through their combat. Famed to be the duo of knights called rivals and turned violent accomplices. 

    Tommy didn’t regret trying to be like them. He didn’t regret fighting for this. He didn’t regret coming to the palace. 

    He didn’t regret being chosen by Dream. 

    He didn’t regret trying to be like the hero that he’d followed since he found him. He didn’t want to do anything else. But what Tommy feared now?

    There was something in Dream. Something that he knew his knight had warned them all about. He just hadn’t expected for Dream to be right. He hadn’t thought that he was going to be correct when he called himself a monster. When he said that there was something broken inside of him that couldn’t be fixed. 

    Tommy always said that was wrong. That he was just being an idiot and that there was nothing he could do that would change the way he saw him. That any of them saw him. 

    Tubbo and Ranboo still looked at him the same. They still talked about him like normal. They still put all their weight into his recovery. Into the stance that he was Dream and so he was bound to be okay again. 

    Tommy wasn’t sure. 

    Tommy had fought him in that arena. He’d been there when he was screaming and thrashing against the alchemy. He’d seen the way his eyes had glowed and his blood had steamed. 

    Dream wasn’t the same as he thought he was. 

    Tommy struck hard into the post. He wanted it gone. He wanted to take all the things he was feeling and shove it down and into the blade. 

    What happened in the arena wasn’t Dream’s fault. What happened was because Parker wanted to use him. He wanted to watch them break and right now he was getting exactly that. Parker was dead. All of them were dead. The West was ruled by Mason now and things were okay for them in that way but it didn’t stop the nightmares when he did try to sleep. 

    He’d go to bed with Tubbo and Ranboo. All three of them in their room in the barracks. Once he knew they were sleeping he would sneak out. He would train. He would work. Just when the sky started to change he would go back to their room. He’d get in bed and he’d sleep for the few hours before they got up to train together. They would work. 

    They were meant to be resting right now. 

    With Dream in recovery they didn’t have to be doing anything for themselves. They could be relaxed and calm and safe through their days and nights. They didn’t have their knight to take them out and work with them even though Dream would say he was fine. 

    Even though Dream tried to be there for them. 

    Tommy didn’t want to hold a blade around him. He knew in too much detail how quickly their knight could turn the weapon against them. He knew too well how fast he could be killed. 

    Again. Killed again. 

    Tommy held his blade tighter. 

“Again.”

“Alright, baby Dream, it’s had enough.”

    Tommy nearly jumped out of his skin. Whirling around and facing off against Technoblade. The knight that was named for one of the Gods in their faith. The knight that was Dream’s closest ally in combat. The knight that had retired his knighthood at the end of the Eastern war for the reason of escaping the all too consuming bloodshed. 

“Go away.”

    A few years ago he would have been stumbling over his own words trying to impress the knight in front of him. He would have nearly fainted at being under his direction. Now though? He wasn’t in the mood.

    He’d talked more with Technoblade than the others had. Working with the man’s past knight and trying to figure out more and more knowledge about flowers and plants and the things that made up the poison he’d been tasting. 

    He readied himself to swing again. The strike was going to be perfect. It was going to take down the post. It was going to cut it into two. It would break it and Tommy would—
A hand stopped him. 

“I said it’s had enough.”

“I told you to go away.”

“And I didn’t listen, did I?”

    It was well after midnight. The royal gardener had no right to be bossing around the primary squire of the Leading Knight.

    But Techno saw the argument he was about to give and he glared him down for it. 

“I didn’t stop Dream when I knew he was doing this to himself. He nearly died.”

“He should’ve.”

    The words came out before he could stop himself or even think about them. The moment they were in the air and he heard what he’d said he knew it was wrong. He knew he needed to apologize but it felt like he was frozen. Like he couldn’t get the words out. 

“What did you just say?”

“Techno—”

    The sword in his hand was ripped away. A show that the man in front of him hadn’t lost any of his strength from his days as a knight. 

“No. You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to say that after he took a chance on you.”

“He—”

“He killed you.”

    The words were sharp. Hard and with malice through them. Tommy didn’t blame him. He understood. Dream was one of his best friends. 

“He killed you and he’s trying to kill himself. He tried when he thought you were just scared of him. Tommy. Do not be stupid enough to believe the things that Parker showed you.”

“I don’t—”

“You do or you would have never said that.”

    It was like a slap in the face. Sharp and unyielding but one that he needed. 

“Do you understand how many people died? How many people were killed and murdered for the fact of what the West did? Do you understand that the first target they wanted was Dream?”

    He did. It made his shame rise. 

“Your knight has only ever been given the worst case. If you start seeing him as anything other than a human being I will personally remove you of your knighthood.”

“Dream wouldn’t let you.”

“Exactly.”

    The anger was still there. The determination. The coldness. 

    But there was something else in there too. 

“Dream wouldn’t let me. Why?”

    Tommy thought about it for a moment. He already knew the answer but he wanted to check and see if it was something else. Before he was wrong again this much in front of a still widely respected knight. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a knight properly anymore. That he’d given up the title years ago or that he was simply only the gardener now. None of that meant anything. What mattered was the weight still carried to him in the world of all of them. 

“Why wouldn’t he, Tommy.”

    A demand. Not an ask. 

“Because he will protect me.”

“Why?”

“Because he cares about me.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

    Techno’s glare got harsher. Tommy sighed. He felt his hands shaking. His legs growing weak. His stomach was too tight. 

“Because he loves us. Because he’s human. Because he’s our dad and he—”

“He was attacked. Hurt and used. He needed help. He still does.”

“I know, but—”

“You need help too.” Shame and guilt burned hot. “I’m telling Sam what you’re doing.”

“Techno—”

“Would you rather me tell Dream?”

“No, but—”

“But nothing. Go inside. Clean up and go to sleep. I’ll tell Sam and then he can deal with you. The only reason I’m not telling Dream is because the idiot would blame himself for your stupidity. He has enough to deal with. Now go. Don’t let me see you out here again. Sam will have your sword in the morning.”

    He wanted to fight but it wouldn’t mean anything. So instead he turned. He forced himself to stay calm. Not to panic or rush. He forced himself a step. Another. And then he turned back. 

“Techno!” A wait for the man to turn to him. Tommy tried for a smile. One he meant. “Thank you.”

Chapter Text

    Techno had waited for a while longer before going in towards the barracks. He’d made sure to take a walk a bit around towards the squire’s hall to check that Tommy actually had gone back to his room like he was meant to. Being Dream’s squire he wouldn’t put it past him to lie and continue self destructing. 

    He knew Dream. He knew Tommy. He hated the similarities between the two of them sometimes. 

    Tommy was a good kid. Techno knew that he was a good kid and his heart was in the right place. They were from the same town so he had the unique perspective of knowing exactly what Tommy meant when he would talk about his past with other squires in group training in the garden. He’d never actually hidden himself but the words he overheard were always when he was working just out of view. 

    Things that Tommy said about growing up on the green side. Something that to the rest of them seemed completely normal and typical. Something that to Techno told him exactly the conditions the kid was used to. When asked about his home he described rooms from the inns. Rooms he’d seen so many times guiding soldiers in on their way back from the Fronts. 

    Where Tommy was from was nothing. There was no home and no family for him beyond the one he’d made here out of knights in the palace. The boy had nothing else to hold himself to other than the goal that he would be like his knight. 

    His knight that had strangled him. 

    Techno heard and read through the reports. He knew what happened to Dream in the arena. Almost everyone in the palace did. The understanding that was between the lot of them that he was going to need help and to not sneak up on him. To let him do whatever he needed to do to feel comfortable. 

    The instructions that were on the staff of the palace had most of them treating their royals and Lead like they were going to break at any moment. 

    Techno disagreed. 

    They needed help right now but that didn’t weaken them at all. Too may people with their hearts in the right place mixed those emotions up. They traded the idea that assistance was needed with the thought that that made them incapable. It didn’t. 

    It never would. 

    Dream had been through hell and back about every single day for every moment of his life. It wasn’t going to stop now and it wasn’t going to break him now. Dream was a creature of will. He pushed himself because he thought he had to. He demanded more and more of himself because he thought he had to. He didn’t give himself the same rules as everyone else. He made it harder. He made himself push. 

    The awe of everyone else pushed him to work for it. To keep himself going. 

    When the world thought he was weak he’d destroyed himself to prove that he wasn’t. He’d forced himself to keep going. The only reason he did was a family and a rival that kept him pushing on. 

    Now Dream’s family was acting like the arena had ended him and when he caught glimpses of his friend he could see the ghost that was becoming of him. Dream looked haunted when he saw him. 

    He was giving up. 

    Too many people were crushing down his will and acting like he was already gone. When he needed help to find his place again and affirm his will they were telling him he couldn’t. Without their words but with all their body language and all their actions. They told him he was gone. 

    He was a lost cause. 

    Techno wasn’t going to allow that. 

    He was going to push and fight and make sure that his friend made it through this. Starting with his squire if he had to. Starting with the boy that had too many complicated feelings that Techno didn’t even know where to begin with. 

    Normally his answer was to hand him a sword and fight it out but given that that was what he was just trying to stop the kid from doing he didn’t think that was a good idea. 

    Too much like Dream. Too much the fighter that he was. Too much the idiot. All of them were reckless idiots. 

    Stepping to the loop at the end of the hall he made his footsteps lighter. Falling back into his old knight training that taught him how stealth was meant to work. To ensure that his target wasn’t going to know he was coming. Dream was typically better when it came to stealth than him given that he was more agility focused than Techno had ever been. It didn’t mean that he couldn’t do it when he wanted to though. 

    He smelled the squire’s room before he saw it. 

    Flowers.

    Wreaths and garlands and vases. Even loose flowers were scattered and hung and laid around and on their door. Guarding it and marking it as the place for squire’s who had fought in a war. 

    Central’s Squire War. 

    The people sent in gifts for all of them that had fought after the procession brought them back into the palace gates. Too many people had seen Spirit without her rider and had assumed for the worst. Some of the gifts sent to the Bench were for mourning Dream’s loss. Others were for their honor and bravery in the face of the battles they fought. 

    It was normal for something like this. For the fame that came with it. Dream and his barracks rooms had looked much the same after the end of the Eastern War. 

    Dream never slept in his. From the stench of rotting flowers and guilt it gave him, or that he only wanted to stop sleeping alone. Techno never asked. It wasn’t his business to know. 

    There were gifts for a lot of them. Presents that set them up for all the things they could want or need but in the eyes of the people there were never enough flowers to bring back a knight lost to three squires. 

    Dream wasn’t dead. 

    They had to know that now. 

    They’d seen glimpses of him by now. Talk of him. They had to know that he was alive and that he was moving. That the West hadn’t taken him out. That he was going to be okay. 

    Dream would be fine. 

    Techno would make sure he was fine. 

    He listened to the sound of the shower behind the door. The soft chatter of Ranboo and Tubbo while they talked about Tommy and the way he’d looked. The fact that he’d been crying apparently by the time he made it back to his room. 

    Techno didn’t mind. 

    For what he’d said that was deserved in his opinion. Maybe he was being mean but he couldn’t really bring himself to care when Dream was the target of those words. He’d been worried about Dream having attempts to remove himself from life since the moment he’d found out what happened out there. He didn’t trust that his friend was going to be able to hold on given everything else that was happening around him. Dream didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to blaming himself for something that wasn’t actually his fault. He was always far too much in his own head. He was too much the fighter to give up and yet the first one he’d abandon was always going to be himself. 

    Dream didn’t deserve what Tommy said. He wasn’t about to let his friend’s kid be the one to take him down like that. 

    He listened just a bit longer. Enough so that he would know that Tubbo and Ranboo were still firmly on Dream’s side and were trying to make sure Tommy was okay. That they were planning to talk to him about what’s been going on once he got finished with his shower. 

    He trusted them to knock some sense into their shared idiot. Dream had needed Sapnap and Punz beside him to keep him together when they all started their adjustments back into peace. Tommy had his brothers too. 

    Techno had had the flowers he could smell all around their door. The dirt under his hands and his knight beside him to teach him something other than bloodshed. 

    He remembered still in his early days working on digging a trench for a row of new flower bulbs in the garden and remembering digging graves and the feeling of blood mixing with dirt. The water he’d been using to water them was too warm under the sun. it felt too close and yet not at all the same. Phil had found him. Had pulled his hands away and wiped them off and held them and talked to him. Describing the garden until the voices chanting blood in his head quieted down and let him get on with his day. 

    He was better at handling it now. The flashbacks and the voices that told him to kill and murder and maim. 

    Doing what he and Dream did in that war would never leave. 

    It was with them for the rest of their lives and they were going to have to deal with that. They would need to accept the things they’d done and there wasn’t a single thing they’d ever be able to do to change it. 

    If no one else was going to sit and hold Dream’s hands right now and tell him what was around him then Techno would be happy to do it. Scars and blood and all. His ally could be covered head to toe in it and Techno would only remember feeling the same. 

    He moved away from the door. Step by step down the hall until he was far enough off that he didn’t bother to hide his footsteps anymore. It wasn’t necessary. They weren’t going to hear him and if he did he was nearly at the end of the squire’s hall. They wouldn’t know that he was there for them. They wouldn’t know his steps any differently than another knights. Not when he kept himself walking in their form step. 

    He had his next stop already in mind. Headed directly for where he knew Sam’s spot was in the barrack rooms. Moving to get to the old Lead and let him know what was going on. It was late but for the older knights they were all usually still up at this hour. Waiting to make sure the palace was actually asleep before granting themselves the rest. 

    Paranoid. 

    That’s what all of them were. 

    Still, things were fairly silent when he got to the room. Techno let himself look around the hallway for a moment before he knocked on the wood of the door. He might be a little irritated with Tommy and the way he was treating Dream at the moment but he did still care about the boy. Even for just what he was for Dream. He knew the warning signs of someone starting to self destruct and he wasn’t going to let it happen. 

    If Dream wasn’t terrified to be around his own squire’s at the moment he was sure that he would have noticed it already. The signs that Tommy was showing. Dream would have dragged him off to the side and laid into him. He would have pinned him into a crushing hug and lectured him until the kid’s ears were bleeding. 

    Part of him hesitated. There was still a chance to do that. Still a chance to tell Dream.

    He didn’t need to deal with that right now. He would only take it as an attack to himself if he heard it right now. He’d blame himself as a knight that his squire was doing this even though if the question were posed to blame Sam, Dream would deny it until his dying breath. 

    Knights. Techno was glad he wasn’t one of them anymore. 

“Sam.”

    He wanted to call for him but he didn’t want to be too loud. He didn’t want to give their conversation away despite the bit of concern he could pick in his own voice. If it were anyone other than one of the people he considered himself close to he was sure they wouldn’t have heard it. 

    Sam would. He would worry. He would think it was about Dream. 

    He’d think it meant death. 

    It was when he was in the middle of knocking harder that the door came swinging open. Nearly knocking straight into Sam’s face but he saw the way the knight was dressed. 

    Plain tunic and pants. Both ruffled and wrinkled to hell and back. The man was fixing his collar and despite the shadow, Techno was almost certain he saw a fresh bruise coloring the underside of his jaw into his neck. He saw flushed cheeks and hair that looked like it had had a hand through it and pulling at it. 

    He wasn’t going to look anymore. 

“Uhm…”

    This was not the situation he’d imagined moments ago. 

“Techno?”

    Sam was trying to sound like the Lead that he’d once been. Instead his voice came too gruff and it really didn’t take a genius to figure out what he’d walked in on. There was only one side of his clothes that looked pulled. 

    He could put together the rest. 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

    He should have waited until the morning. 

    He was absolutely telling Phil about this when they met for breakfast. 

“You sounded worried. What’s wrong?”

    If Sam wasn’t going to acknowledge that he was getting blocked by work then Techno wasn’t either. 

“You know there’s a whole party that just happened, right? People in the palace? I’m pretty sure some are still here—”

“Techno.”

“Right.”

    God, it was like walking in on a parent. 

“What about Dream?”

    He bit the inside of his cheek at the question. Not that it wasn’t a fair thing to be asking but it did sting a little bit seeing just how much his fears were correct. Everyone was focusing all their pity attention into Dream. Not that Dream didn’t deserve attention or care but it was the wrong kind of energy. The overbearing kind that was going to crush him into the ground if they didn’t start being more careful. Tommy on the other hand was barely being looked at. Soldiering on because there was a higher priority and that was going to leave him untethered enough that he would fly to the sun and burn. 

    He and Dream. Both chasing things they could never really have. 

“It’s not about Dream, actually.”

    Immediately he saw the shift on Sam’s face. 

“Then what—”

“It’s about Tommy.”

    He kept his voice quiet. For this he really didn’t want anyone to hear. Sam’s breath caught for a moment. Looking up and down the hallway and he knew that the man shared his same thought of secrecy. 

“We should have this in private.”

    There was a bit of mixed pain in Sam’s expression. Something that Techno was about to ask about before he looked down again at the untucked tunic and half undone belt. 

“You can come in.”

    Techno pretended he was deaf. Sam’s head shot back inside the room. 

“Are you—”

“Pretty sure we’re done after this news. Let the man in. I’m decent.”

    It was so much like parents. 

    Sam stepped to the side with a sigh. Opening the door a little bit more for him and Techno took it without looking up from the ground. In moments there was a small lantern being lit and the room showed a typical cleanliness. Standard for a knight. Something the maids had always appreciated. They kept everything in order so that if there was a danger they would have no hazards and a system in place to get their equipment or materials. 

    Sitting on the side of Sam’s bed was Ponk. 

    The stump of his arm still coiled neatly in bandages. His clothes wrinkled so that Techno could tell even at a glance that his shirt had been lifted to puddle up around his neck just moments ago. 

    Sometimes he really hated being observant. 

    Especially when he saw Dream after leaving their Prince when the two of them had been alone. 

    He never hid the limp nearly as well as he thought he did. 

“How’s your arm?”

“The missing one or the still here one?”

    Ponk picked up on his banter immediately. Sam standing in front of the door with his arms crossed and clearing his throat like he wanted nothing more than to get this awkward exchange done with. 

    Techno didn’t blame him. He understood it. He wanted it done with too. 

“Techno.” Sam sounded both annoyed and concerned. “What about Tommy? Is he okay?”

    That was something normal. That was something he was used to fielding when it came to questions and concerns. 

“Depending on how you define okay—”

“Technoblade.”

“Right now, sure. If we don’t change something? No.”

    The confusion in both of them was evident immediately. 

“Elaborate.”

    He appreciated it when Sam went into working mode like this. The dangerous Lead that was titled like the Warden of a prison. It was the familiar pattern that he’d known for all his teenage years pretty much. He grew up under the learning and standing of knights and the power that they held. He might hate systems and governments as a whole but the place they had wasn’t too bad. 

    He didn’t mind when justice was justice. 

“He’d doing exactly what Dream did when he was younger.” 

    He let the words settle. Almost seeing the images and memories that were going through Sam’s head as he thought about the things of their past. Of what all happened to Dream in his starts as a squire. 

“I caught him murdering one of the training posts outside. Beating himself over what’s going on and some of the things he said…”

    He could see Ponk’s brows furrow. 

“What did he say?”

    Techno looked between them. He looked to Sam. 

“He said Dream should have died. As a squire when he’d gotten sick and collapsed. I was telling Tommy that he was being an idiot and doing the same thing. That Dream nearly died. Tommy said he should have.”

    Something unreadable was on his face. 

“I got him to take it back, I think. He’s in his room right now showering and from what I heard from Ranboo and Tubbo he was crying when he came back.”

“Are you telling Dream?”

“I wasn’t going to.” He knew Sam would understand. “He doesn’t need that right now. Not when he’d blame himself for his squire being stupid.”

    Sam only nodded. 

“I’ll talk to Tommy.”

“I think he needs more than that.”

    Techno knew Dream. At this point that basically meant that he knew Tommy. The two of them were so close it was ridiculous. 

“I think you need to run him through training.”

“He doesn’t—”

“If you tell me he doesn’t need that then I need you to look at the post outside and try saying it again.”

    He wasn’t going to take no for an answer on this one. Not when he knew too much about what was going on. Not when he knew the danger that they were in if they didn’t get Tommy to calm down and stop being an idiot. 

“He needs to see the things that Dream did. He needs to understand the same lesson that Dream needed. That he’d enough the way he is and what he does now isn’t going to change the place he came from. Only where he goes. Right now he’s going into a casket.”

    Silence in the room. Quiet settling between them as the words sunk in and hit them all. The weight of everything they’d been going through and the garbage they needed to handle. 

“Well,” Ponk’s voice startled them both. “That really killed the mood; didn’t it.”

“What do you think it means to be a knight, Tommy?”

    Sam kept his eyes on his three grandsquires in front of him. They were trying their best when it came to everything that had happened but the news he’d gotten from Techno during the night had left him more than a little bit concerned. He wanted to make sure they were all alright. He wanted to make sure that they were really taking care of themselves and that they weren’t self destructing. 

    He wanted to be able to say that Techno was just being dramatic. That he was being paranoid and that nothing was actually wrong. 

    With Dream and with Zach and everything else he felt like there was too much on his plate already. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore. What he wanted or what  he needed. He wasn’t fit to be the Leading knight. Even if it was just in acting. He was holding the place down until Dream was healed enough to be able to take it. 

    He technically was now. 

“It’s the defense of the innocent for the sake of honor and justice.”

    Sam had talked with Phil about how his youngest squire was doing when it came to his health. Phil had told him that he was pretty sure it was just a mental block Dream was fighting right now. That everything else had healed up well all things considered. He knew that Dream still complained about his neck but the wound was stabilized fast enough and the fixes they’d done in field seemed to have taken well. 

    He had full range of movement. He had no marks. He had no issues because of it. 

    Dream was fine. Physically he was fine. But they’d been warned about what this new version of the serum could do to someone mentally and right now that was the wound they were trying to battle for him. Guarding him from the one thing that Dream couldn’t protect with armor and strength alone. 

“Tubbo, what is it to protect?”

    In the event that the knight wasn’t able to, a squire would be trained by the next available member of their line. 

    Zach was in the infirmary.

    Sam’s first squire and the one he’d just gotten back to his side. They’d done what they could to stop the growth of the parasite through him once they were safe in the Western palace. It just hadn’t been enough. 

    It had been in him for too long that the alchemy to kill it wasn’t working. They’d needed to do surgery. 

    Multiple. 

    He was laying in the infirmary safe and secure and hopefully without it growing in him. Waiting for days and days after a procedure to see if it had worked and he was going to live or if it would consume him from the inside out and take his first son away from him too. 

“To protect is to give everything you have to ensure something else. Your body and your blade. The duty of a knight.”

    Sam stood now in front of the training posts in the yard. The one that had been all but demolished by Tommy during the night tucked away and gone so that it wouldn’t be caught by anyone else. Ponk was off to the side working on designs for a prosthetic for himself to replace the arm he’d lost. He was doing well without it. Coping and adjusting well. 

    Sam still saw him go to reach for things with a limb that was no longer there. He still saw his partner try to scratch an itch that wasn’t real. To nurse an ache that was impossible to have. 

    Ponk had told him he still feels the cuts sometimes. 

“Now, Ranboo, what makes a knight weak?”

    He watched all three of them. Sam kept an eye on the way they responded to him and the way they acted towards this question. He wanted to make sure he was right in his thoughts. Tubbo was holding his ground. Thinking everything over in his head and Ranboo doing much the same. 

    Tommy wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Cowardice.”

“Tommy, what is cowardice for a night?”

    Sam watched his hands ball into fists. Squeezing his nails tight into his palms.

    So much like Dream. 

“Running from a fight. Hiding and leaving others to die when they could have done something to fix it.”

    Sam took a breath. 

“Tubbo, when is a knight broken?”

    He could see him thinking it over. 

“When they aren’t willing to fight?”

    He wasn’t sure. 

“Ranboo?”

    The boy hesitated. 

“When a knight abandons their blade?”

    Sam hummed. 

“Tommy?”

“When they have nothing left to fight.”

    He felt the wind wash around them. Gentle and caring and ruffling their hair. Sam let himself breathe in the smell of the grass and the familiarity of their home. 

“It’s when they lose their family. They lose what they’re fighting for. What their purpose was. A knight can only be broken by having their heart lost.”

    He needed them to understand. 

“Tubbo, what is a knight’s most powerful weapon?”

“Their blade.”

“Important. Our blades are part of us, yes, but that’s not our most important. Ranboo?”

“Their mind.”

    Sam hid his mournful mirth from them. 

“Unique and critical for us. Without our minds running for what we were trained for we would be killed in droves. Slaughtered at the hands of our enemies and without a chance to come home. Our minds help us guide our blades. They’re important, but not our strongest.”

    He turned back to Dream’s primary. 

“Tommy?”

    This time it was the boy’s turn to hum to him. To question what it was he was being called on for. 

“What is a knight’s most powerful weapon?”

    He looked to his brothers. He looked to the palace for just a second. Eyes flashing up to the top floor and the window in place there above them. 

“His heart.”

    Sam watched him. He wondered if Tommy knew that he’d said it as ‘he’ instead of ‘they’. If the boy realized that he’d said it like he was talking about Dream rather than the subjective of knights as a whole. Tommy squeezed his hands harder. 

“A knight’s most powerful weapon is their heart. If it’s what can break one then it’s the most important weapon for one. If a heart is intact then the knight is. If a knight has their heart then they aren’t a coward. If a knight has their heart then they have the courage to handle their blade.”

    Sam offered him a smile. 

“All three of you have your hearts. Strong and powerful and more than what you sometimes believe you can handle. You are stronger than you think.”

“Not strong enough.”

    Tommy sounded bitter. Harsh and full of self hatred and in that moment Sam saw how much he resembled a younger version of Dream. The anger and the guilt that was trying to eat him alive. That was trying to ruin him and destroy him and bring him down into the ground. That wanted to shatter him and break him so that he could never come back to the light. 

“Tommy, I want you to run three laps around the palace.”

“What?”

“I wasn’t asking.” He’d do what he did with Dream. “Run.”

    When his squire was pushing himself too hard he’d given him what he wanted. He’d shown him what it could be like. Dream had still gone more than what he thought was possible. Dream had nearly killed himself for the sake of it. But right now what Tommy needed and wanted was training. He needed something to focus himself into to get his mind out of the war and into the peace they had secured here in the palace. The safety that was guarding over all of them and keeping them as safe as they could possibly be in the moment. 

    Right now that was the plan. 

    Bring Tommy back to them by showing him the standards of a knight. 

    It was only a moment after the order that Tommy was off. Running for his laps and leaving Tubbo and Ranboo standing there watching him go. Waiting for their own orders. 

    Sam didn’t plan to give them ones like that. 

“Today I want to focus you on balance in a fight.”

“We’ve done that before.”

    He knew they had. 

    He knew they’d fought in a war and that the three of them knew more than any other squire in the palace. That they deserved to be knighted well and fully but the decision had been made between the family on what they were going to do with that. 

“I meant balancing your heart and your head when it comes to guiding your blade.”

    Their passion was the greatest strength and weapon for a knight. It was their most important tool out of everything else they had. But while their heart was their strongest they needed to be able to use their head to guide it. To make sure they didn’t end up like some kind of mindless killer running from impulse and nothing else. 

    That was what Dream feared he was. 

    All the things that told his son that he was so much more than that and it would be ignored in a matter of moments because of his doubts that tried to devour him whole. It was the pain and the worry that was there in his mind and holding over him. 

    It was the fear that Sam had never managed to remove from him no matter how hard he’d tried to save his son from it all. 

    It wasn’t enough. 

    He’d been forced to watch Dream suffer and fall to it and now he had a chance to teach his squires to save themselves before it was too late. 

    Dream wore his gloves to protect himself. To guard his hands and hide the marks he’d done to himself. Dream wore his gloves to hide the marks of his fear that would out him to the rest of the world His fear that had infected his heart and controlled his mind. His fear that had taken over against everything else. But Dream’s passion was enough to fight it back when it came down to the wire. When it came to the war they were fighting against his own mind that was the way it went. 

    For Dream’s squires, for Sam’s grandsquires, he wanted to protect them. 

“When you fight, you want to feel the weight of your blade in your hand. You want to be watching your enemy.”

    He started the same lecture he’d done a million times before. Teaching it week after week to different sets of squires throughout his time as a knight and then a Lead. He’d been one of the instructors on this for ages and yet he’d failed to instill the lesson of it into his own family. 

    Shameful if you asked him. 

    But Sam was going to try again. Waiting and watching as Tommy completed his laps and letting him breathe for a minute once he’d made it through. Sitting with him in the grass before handing him a blade and repeating the same lesson he’d given to his brothers. 

    Watching how Tommy would actually let himself breathe and let go of his emotions as he struck them into the posts. As he let himself have the moment he needed to let out the anger and fear and hurt he was holding so close to himself. 

    Sam was there. 

    There when Tommy yelled that he didn’t care and threw his training blade down. 

    There when his grandsquire let his first tears fall. When he hiccuped on a sob and when he fell to his knees to cry. To break against the weight of the world. To cling and be held. 

    Sam was there. 

Chapter Text

    George leaned his head back against the padding of his throne. Sitting at the side of his father and listening to the nobles talk and drone in front of him like they weren’t still recovering from the war their nation was dragged through. Like they hadn’t needed to fight and defend the very place they were now. 

    The complaint was about a neighbor. Said he kept burning off his trash and letting the smoke go around his house. They were people that lived out in the country side of the capital. Where the farmers mostly had their fields which kept distance between everyone. It made for a quiet get away setting. 

    Burning crops or burning trash. The crops he would care about. If they were burning away their food supply then it was for a reason. If there was a parasite or something that they were having to deal with the nation could be facing a famine and that wasn’t going to be good for any of them. They had the East but no one had gotten contact out of the South and short of going down there to figure it out none of them really wanted to venture. 

    Mason would help them if they faced famine. He would give crops they could spare and James with the East would be backing them as well. The North didn’t have too much for themselves but he knew Hannah would help where she could. 

    They could manage though it wouldn’t be ideal. 

“Highness, do you hear me?”

    George jolted back to the conversation the second he heard his title. He could see his father looking at him from his left but he only kept his eyes forward and toward the noble that had called him. 

“You need to send a group of knights to deter him from burning and making more smoke! I go to the country to be left alone not have to smell burning—” He couldn’t think of the word. “Things!”

“Things.” George swallowed his irritation. “And what do these things smell like?”

    He really only cared if they were crops. 

“Nothing! It doesn’t smell like anything normal! It’s sweet! Makes me want to gag every time but it doesn’t smell like something it’s just— Make it stop! That’s your job!”

    His job was to protect the nation. His job was to lead his military and his knights all of which were currently still recovering from their endeavors through the war. They’d called their soldiers home. They’d tried to protect them and help them. 

    It wasn’t enough. 

    George woke up to Dream begging this morning. He’d woken up to his lover pulling on the restraints with tears in his eyes asking to be let go. The second he’d gotten him released Dream had practically locked himself into the bathroom. George could hear him gagging and throwing up. He could hear him sobbing and hyperventilating but Dream wouldn’t let him in. He kept them away. 

    They’d spent the rest of their sleeping time together tucked on either side of the bathroom door. Dream apologizing and George trying everything he could to console him. 

    His job was protecting his knights. His job was to the nation. Not catering to some sniveling—

“We’ll look into it. Please follow the guards out.” His father’s voice was calm beside him. “George, a word?”

    Now it was time for the lecture. 

    He tried to take a breath. Closing his eyes and leaning forward on the throne to try to balance himself in the way he thought he knew how to. His father was standing after the doors of the throne room were closed. His mother had turned to look at him. 

    George hated that he saw pity in her eyes. 

“Dad…”

“Come on a walk with me.”

    He wasn’t asking. That much he already knew. Another sigh and George got himself to his feet. Following his father out the archway and onto the walkway that would take them to the wall where the knights patrolled. The morning light made him feel a bit better. The breeze they had going for them. The cold was still there but with as hot as his blood had been turning it was  a welcome feeling against his skin.

    They walked in silence for the first few minutes. Taking the time to just breathe and look at the peace they had again. 

    George took in the knights that were down in the yard. Milling about and playing games. Squires were training with knights watching them from their resting points on the side. He watched younger squires learning to lead horses and even caught sight of Tommy running a lap around the palace. 

    He still remembered when he was younger and watching Dream run those laps. How he’d sprint them as he got older and was more used to the endurance it took. How Dream would practically fly through them because his body knew the path and the pattern helped him think. 

    Part of him wondered if that would still help him now. If he should tell him to go run laps to help clear his head. 

    Fur lined clothes to keep him warm as he ran. He wasn’t going to let his lover fall ill from something that was meant to be helping him. 

“You were about to yell at that noble.”

    He bit his cheek. His father was right, of course. George had been about to tear him a new one and put him in his place. He had no right to be ordering a royal. George’s job was whatever he saw fit. He had far more important things to be doing. 

“He was being an idiot.”

“He was.” 

    So his father agreed with him. 

“It’s also our duty to listen to our people’s complaints.”

    George didn’t hide the sourness from his return. 

“It’s the duty of the King. The duty of the Prince is to his knights. I’m not sending them out for a complaint like that.”

    His father sighed beside him. Looking at him for a moment before turning away when he realized that George wasn’t going to return his gaze.

“You are going to be King one day, George.”

“But I’m not right now. I shouldn’t be acting like the King when I’m not the King.”

“George…”

    He didn’t want this conversation. He didn’t want to think about what his future would be when there were so many things uncertain for them still. 

“How is Dream?”

    His hid from him. Waiting until he knew that he’d gone and gotten ready for his day and left for his work in the throne room before a guard reported to him that he’d been spotted in the library. He’d been worried about him. Trying to check in on him to make sure he was alright and if doing that meant he was having people tell him when he was spotted alone somewhere then Dream didn’t need to know. 

    It was just to try to keep him safe. 

    He’d been worried with how their morning went that Dream wasn’t going to leave the bathroom. That he would trap himself inside and not even come out to eat or care for himself. He didn’t want to see that happen. Part of him was glad that Dream had left and gone to do things on his own accord. The other part of him was terrified that he was alone. 

    What if something happened to him? What if an old wound acted up or he had another seizure? They still didn’t know fully what had caused so many of them and he didn’t want to see Dream suffering worse than he already was. If someone tried to use him or if—

“He is okay, isn’t he?”

    The lack of response was worrying his father. 

“He’s managing.”

“George—”

“He’s not good, Dad, is that what you wanted me to say?”

    He didn’t know what was expected of him anymore. Some days it was like he was still a child and he wasn’t given anything to be handling for himself. Only lectured about taking better care of himself or anything else that his people could think of. Other times he was standing there like he was the King already. Like his parents were gone and he was the one who had to make every choice and his heart couldn’t—

“Hey,” He was pulled into his father’s chest before he realized he wasn’t exactly breathing and his face was too hot. “Breathe, Cub. He’s managing. He’ll recover. He just needs time.” 

“It’s been a month and he still can’t—” 

    George cut himself off this time. Dream could have however long he needed to make a recovery. That much he would never change his mind on. He wasn’t going to rush him when he knew how lucky all of them were that he was alive to begin with. It wasn’t something George was willing to push with him but at the same time, he worried. 

    What if the longer it took the less likely he was to recover? What if Dream wasn’t going to be able to come back to him after this? What if the person he’d fallen in love with was dea—

“He’s fighting himself. We’re here for him. That’s enough. He knows he has a home to make it back to and he will fight for you, George. He always has.”

“Not when he was a kid.”

    He could practically hear his father’s frown. 

“What Dream did as a boy hardly reflects him now.”

    It was true. Kind of. What Dream had done as a boy was in effort to remove himself from life because of the things his father had done to him. What he was doing now were because of what the West had done to him and made him do. 

    Not the same. 

    Not entirely different. 

    At least he could still see some sparks of fight in him now when there had been none when they were boys. 

    George breathed against his father. Letting himself take in the comfort that was being offered to him. He didn’t want to be fighting anymore. The nightmares he was having that left him waking up shivering and feeling like there was a spike through his skull. The images he could see of blood all over Central’s yard and Dream holding him to his chest and his axe to the rest of the world. The times he felt like he could still hear his lover’s screams echoing through his ears. 

    He’d wanted to sleep beside Dream again. To wake up from those nightmares and see him sleeping beside him and knowing that he was okay. That the things he was seeing were just dreams and nothing more. That they would never be more. 

“What did you want to say to that noble?”

    George scoffed. 

“When he said it was our job I wanted to tell him off.”

    He heard the huff of a laugh from him. 

“I was like that once.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious!” Still, he could feel his father laughing even while he pulled away from their hug and took a breath to settle himself. “When I was crowned King I had the same thoughts you’re having. I felt the same way. It took my knights and advisors almost holding my mouth shut to make me stop.”

    George stared at him. 

“You?”

“I had five wars I needed to end. I was alone, I didn’t know how to be a King. I didn’t—” Something haunted flickered over his face. “The point, son, is that I wasn’t ready. I didn’t have the chance to let my parents crown me. I didn’t get to tell them I would do my best to save our nation or—” George leaned into him. “I wasn’t ready, when I wore this crown. I wasn’t ready to wear it. I want you to be ready.”

    He tried to keep his breathing even. It was what his father had brought up while they were still in the West. The topic of conversation that had halted nearly all talk at their family dinners. There was too much going on right now for him to consider a change of power to be a good thing. Not for the nation and not for them. Right now they might be in peace time but George didn’t feel like he was ready. 

    He wasn’t sure he ever would be. 

    He refused to be King without Dream by his side. He knew that his lover would be. That he would stand with him no matter what happened and on his better days Dream was like nothing had ever happened to begin with. 

    But then there were the days where he wouldn’t respond. The days where he would flinch at everything and his eyes would be so distant that it felt like there was no hope to have him back. 

    Something was still wrong with him. He just didn’t know what. 

    His father’s hand rested on his shoulder. 

“Your mother is going to be waiting for us inside.”

    George sighed. A smile still on his lips. 

“She’s probably worried we’re killing each other.”

    He watched his dad consider it. 

“She’s probably more likely to be ready to kill us for leaving her alone with the attendee’s.”

    That was fair enough. 

    George was pretty sure he would kill too if he had to navigate all of the nonsense people brought to them alone. He’s done it before, of course. But he had Dream standing by his side as his guard so between the complaints he could have someone there to help reset him. Dream’s dry humor and wit always made it worth it. He never worried when Dream was stood beside him. 

    Right now George wished he was in the library reading beside his partner. 

    Heading back into the throne room felt like accepting the jaws of death. Stepping back into the den that was ready to kill them with boredom and everything else. 

    With the knock on the door he readied himself for another noble to come in complaining about something stupid. He prepared himself to have to hide his expressions and not for the first time he envied his lover’s mask. The fact that Dream didn’t have to worry about showing too much of his irritation or confusion at the idiocy or people. 

    Instead the people entering the room were more than familiar. 

“James,” George was already standing again from his throne. “Francis?”

    His friend had been recovering well all things considered. He wasn’t using much of his magic in order to recover from the things that he’d done but what little he did save he kept for one of his ailing squires. To be able to help her and her fragile lungs. They’d made their stop here in Central. 

    There was enough travel that people from the East were simply making their way here to talk to their crowns. 

“We needed a break from the,” James gestured to the door as it closed behind them. “That.”

    They’d set up the East hall to be used by them. It was fitting in the name and it allowed the most light from the sunrise into the palace. Just a quick walk away and they would be within range of each other but still enough privacy and space that their people weren’t being crowded or pressured. 

“You too?”

    George was laughing as he went to greet the two of them. Giving them each a hug and smiling with them. Francis was laughing. 

“I’m pretty sure James was going to just go insane if he had to hear someone else complain.”

    The smile on his face actually felt real. 

“Oh, tell me about it.”

    James was already through taking his deep breath. His frustration coming out loud and clear while George saw his parents both smiling and shaking their heads from their thrones. 

“Honestly. If I had to listen to one more person complaining about scentless smoke I was going to—”

“What?”

    The energy of the room changed instantly. George felt cold rushing the core of his heart. James’ smile felt. Francis’ as well. Both of them looking at him with concern while he heard his parents standing to come join their group discussion. 

“George?”

“Scentless smoke? How many people? What area? What were they saying?”

“Why?”

“Because we’ve had three of those already this morning.”

    The whole room went silent. So quiet that they could hear a pin drop against the marbled ground. 

“What do you mean?”

“Nobles coming in. Complaining that their neighbors are burning something but there isn’t a smell. The only one who said anything about it was that—”

“It was sweet?”

    George swallowed hard. He didn’t want this to be what happened. Their people were just finally getting their peace they deserved. After all this time in the fighting and all this struggling they’d been seeing. Watching their hero and the mask of their nation crumple and spend most of the year in an infirmary bed only to be put right back into one. 

    They couldn’t take another war. 

    George wasn’t going to allow another war. 

    He’d rather kill anyone that tried. 

    Central was done. No more mercy. No more playing. No more kindness from them. 

    If they were attacked they would respond with the weight of the Compass. If they were threatened they would bring down the heavens. 

    George knew he could now. He knew he had it. 

“If the smoke is something then what does it mean?”

“Have the Stars given you anything?”

“Nothing about this.”

    They were in danger. The longer they let this go on the more risk they had for their people. 

“We need to figure out where it’s coming from.”

    George felt like he already knew. 

“Ant,” His mother called for her knight. George felt his stomach turning. “Gather a team and go out to investigate. I want answers for what this is and how widespread it is.”

“What are the options for what it could be?

“The West.”

    George said it smoothly. He heard the quiet around him. Francis being the first one to brace a reply and sounding more than ready to fight this point with him. 

“Mason wouldn’t.”

    George agreed. 

“He wouldn’t. But I’m not talking about Mason, or the official Western military or any of that.”

“Then what—”

    George let his voice drop. Anger and hate and loathing wrapping their way around his words. 

“Loyalists to the Western crown. Usurpers. People who believe Parker isn’t dead. I heard the rumors before we even left.”

“You don’t think—”

“Smoke was their weapon. Attacks with cowardice and hiding. I think that’s exactly what this is.”

    He looked at his father. He saw the pain in his eyes. The way he held his mother’s hand and put his other up to his chest. 

“Another war.”

    George turned to his friends. 

“A rebellion to crush.”

    Dream had woken up feeling like he was being crushed. His chest wanting to cave in and his body screaming that he needed to move. It felt like everything in him was being lit on fire but he couldn’t get anything to respond. 

    He’d begged for George. He’d needed to know what was going on and he needed to know if he was actually being hurt or if it was just his head playing tricks on him. He’d called for his lover. Trying to get him and in the end when he did manage to wake him he saw George’s fear. 

    It made bile sting in his throat. 

    Memories felt like acid as they washed to the front of his mind. Racing forward like poison to remind him of the fear he’d seen from his heart when he ws strangling him in the arena. Dream could remember the feeling of George’s throat in his hands. He remembered what all of it was like. 

    He’d run the second he felt the restraints away from him. 

    Now though, In the morning light Dream tried to keep himself calm. Moving around the garden and breathing deep with the cool crisp air. It was chilly but his clothes were warm all things considered. He could manage with the things he had. He’d be fine. He’d even waved to a few knights here and there. 

    Telling the guards that tailed him to inform George he’d be in the library was easy enough.

    It wasn’t that he was avoiding his family it was just that he needed the alone time. He needed to feel like he wa s a person again and that mean not being watched. It meant that he would be left alone and he wouldn’t be bothered every single moment to be told that he was something broken that needed looked over. 

    There were risks to his health. Things he should be careful with. 

    He hadn’t reported to Phil yet. 

    He was supposed to be reporting to Phil. 

    Dream kept walking. Reaching out and running his fingers through the leaves of the bushes he passed. Something to ground himself and prove to himself that he wasn’t stuck in the brick of the arena and that he was out in the real world again. He didn’t need to worry about Parker. Parker was dead. He didn’t have to be afraid anymore. 

    He was fine. 

    No serum. No control. No fighting. 

    Dream was fine. 

    Taking a shaking deep breath he tried to keep himself together better than he was doing before. George was scared for him. All of his family was and he didn’t want that to be the case. He didn’t want them to be spending their days worrying about him when he knew how much they had on their plates. 

    George was going to become King. He was being prepped for it and he was scared. Dream was meant to be by his side for all of this and yet he was going on walks around the garden and feeling sorry for himself. 

    Part of him argued that he wasn’t. That he was trying to fix the things wrong with him. That the images he kept seeing that he knew weren’t really there were a problem that he needed to handle. 

    He didn’t want to be called crazy. He didn’t want to be locked up. 

    He didn’t want to hide in his room. 

    Something Dream couldn’t yet figure out was why some days he was completely fine and others he was feeling like he couldn’t breathe even in an empty room. Why some days he hardly cared that the arena had happened and felt like he was the same as he was before and others he was questioning if he was even a person still or if all his thoughts were planted by someone else. 

    Dream was afraid. 

    The Leading Knight of Central. The man that ended wars on his own and he was standing there like a coward more often than not anymore. He was terrified of himself and terrified of the reflection when he looked in the mirror. 

    Because he saw himself or because he saw his son, he wasn’t sure. 

    Every time Dream was looking at himself he could see Tommy looking back at him. He could see the hate and the anger and the disgust. He could see the way his primary had changed. How the ideation that he’d had when looking at him before had shifted to the cold reality of knowing. 

    Dream didn’t know what he was doing with himself. 

    He didn’t know what he was meant to be doing anymore. 

    His knee was aching the longer he walked but he let it. It didn’t matter to him right now and it wasn’t so bad he couldn’t keep going. The cold air was good for his head. Breathing deep and feeling it stretch and pull in his lungs. 

    There was a time when he was a boy that he wouldn’t have been able to do that. When his lungs would have given out on him and he would have ended up coughing and gagging on the ground instead. Choking around his organ whole he tried to figure out what to do. He’d dealt with the infections from the mold. He'd survived the fever caused by his over training. He’d survived so many things and yet he still felt like he wasn’t going to survive this. Like this was finally the last straw he could take. 

    Dream kept fighting. 

    He had to keep himself fighting. 

    The sounds of feet around him made him pause. Laughter and chatter reaching his ears and as he listened he heard the soft clinks of metal. The sounds of knights explaining things to squires. Talking about herbs and medicines and flowers and their meanings. 

    Eastern knights. 

    Trying to give the lessons to their squires on what they could and couldn’t use. Trying to teach them the code that so many knights followed. Dream still remembered the start of everything. When they were just having the knights competition and Oliver had been stupid enough to give George an orange tulip. How annoyed he’d been by the act and now he was sitting here some days wondering if he could track Oliver down to help him stay calm when the flashbacks were getting too much. 

    When he just wanted to lay down and make the world stop moving around him. 

    Dream kept himself moving. Turning in the other direction of the knights and squires and leaving them to go on with their training. 

    Dream focused on his breathing. Keeping himself in the present and trying to make his mind not wonder as much as it wanted to. He kept going. Walking and moving until he felt like he could breathe. Until he felt normal again. 

    His leg was starting to shake. His hands felt too thick. Fingers too big to properly move. He was getting out of shape again from all the resting he’d been doing if it could even be called that. 

    He spotted one of the large trees off on the side of the garden. Away from where the lessons should be taking place and sectioned off by bushes to hopefully give him enough privacy to be left alone. 

    Dream made his way to it not long after that. Keeping his footsteps quiet right up until he was at the tree and only then did he allow himself to drop against it with a thump on the ground. Allowing himself to let out his breath and fill his lungs despite the way they wheezed just a little. Reaching a hand down to his leg and rubbing his hand over his knee. Trying to ease out the cramp that had decided it needed its home under his kneecap. 

    He tilted his head back toward the tree. Letting himself listen to the sounds of the world around him. The birds that were singing above him. The breeze through the grass. The faded chatter of the knights and squires on another part of the garden. 

    Silence. 

    The shift of the grass as squirrels ran on it. The creak of the old branches above his head. The footsteps coming toward him from the side. 

    The footsteps—

    Dream’s eyes flew open. Reaching for his sword on his hip and half ready to kill first and question later before he saw a tiny squire plopping down on the ground beside him. 

    Eastern by the markers on her leather. Bright hair that almost looked like fire with how it was catching in the sunlight. 

“Hello?”

    He knew her. He’d met her before. 

    Through clouded memories Dream could remember when the Eastern quires came to do some of their training here. How there was one that was practically attached to Francis’ hip. 

“Mars, right?”

    She blinked at him before nodding. A smile on her face despite how it looked pained. 

    Dream caught it immediately. 

“Are you okay?”

    She was a good kid from what he remembered. Francis had surely seemed to love her. James as well. If he was right then this was the squire that George had commented to James about being a father to. He could see it. It was a simple thing for him to imagine. 

    She just nodded again. 

“I don’t like the cold.”

    Her lungs could be hurting her. 

    It reminded Dream a bit too much of himself. How when he was younger he would make himself stay out in the cold for longer periods of time so that he could feel the pain as his lungs pulled and burned in his chest. How he would let the infection grow for the fact that he could at least feel something. 

    She was too innocent for that to happen to her.

“Do you want to go inside? I can walk you if you want?”

    He didn’t like the idea of her being on her own out here. 

“Why aren’t you with the others?”

    She was an Eastern squire. She should be getting the lesson with the others. 

“All I do is play in the garden. I know all that already.”

    Dream frowned. His own aches ignored in favor of paying attention to her. 

“But if the cold is hurting your lungs then why are you out here?”

    She pulled at the grass. Twining her fingers through it and tugging but not hard enough to pull it out. 

“The doctors say I should try to build up my strength.”

    Dream remembered those days. He hated them. When he was a boy and trying to get strong enough to do the job that was assigned to him at being chosen as the Prince’s knight. He’d met one on one with the young Prince. Being told directly that he was chosen because he thought he would fail and he didn’t want a knight. 

    Now he looked at George and saw a man willing to destroy everything to keep them together. 

“That’s never fun.”

    She turned to look at him. Squinting at him like she was searching for something only to come up unsure. Dream laughed a bit. Feeling his heart pull a bit that he could still be kind like this. That this was something he could be doing with his squires. That he was avoiding doing with them. 

“I used to have to do the same thing. It’s awful but it’s worth it for you in the long run.”

    Dream watched her shiver with a breeze that rolled through. Almost immediately he was lifting an arm for her. The kid didn’t even waste a second before she was tucking into his side and taking in his heat. George had always called him a living furnace. Now at least he could put that to use. 

    He’d return her to Francis later. For now the little one needed to do her adjustments and Dream wanted to try to rest. 

    He put his head back against the tree again. Letting Mars do as she pleased to get comfortable and manhandle his arm into being her blanket. He was trying to get himself to relax at least a little bit. Not sleep but pretend so that his body could rest and he could just take things one moment at a time. 

    Until there were harder steps coming toward him and Dream was left sighing at the familiar pattern. 

“You really need to stop adopting every kid you see, Dream. This is becoming a problem. Have you even told our Prince?”

    Dream groaned for the lost prospect of his peace. 

“If she’s anyone’s kid, Techno, she’s Fran’s.”

“Uh huh, sure. That’s why you’re being a whole dad right now. I get it.”

    His friend was standing over them. Watching them both with his hands on his hips and the absolute expression of disappointment. 

“Dream, man, I thought you knew about my hate of people being in my grass.”

    He rolled his eyes. 

“I thought you cared about your old battle buddy enough to let me take a nap.”

“Nope.”

    He popped the P at the end. Letting his sarcasm drip through it and giving Dream a chance to huff out his laugh. This was the way they worked. Bantering with each other and letting the words come on their own. It felt natural. Like normal real people instead of something acting like he was fragile or going to break with the wrong choice of wording. 

“What do you actually want?”

    He knew Techno cared. He knew that he was paying attention to how he was doing in recovery both now and after the cave last year. If he saw him resting he wasn’t going to be the one to interrupt. Not unless there was a reason and right now he couldn’t think of one that Techno would be the one to interrupt him for. 

“You didn’t report to Phil. He got worried.”

    Oh. 

“You can tell him I’m fine.”

“That’s not how it works and you know it.”

    Mars moved against him. Sitting up and looking between the two of them. He didn’t want to make a scene in front of her but he also couldn’t handle being poked or prodded or told that all his pain was just in his head. 

    Not right now. 

“Tech, I just need alone time.”

“Yeah, you look real alone.”

    Dream shot his friend a glare. He didn’t regret trying to give Mars comfort. Besides, he hadn’t sought her out. She’d gone to him. She was a hurting kid with an issue that he could uniquely relate to. Of course he was going to try to help her. 

    No sooner did he open his mouth to reply was Techno cutting him off. 

“Phil wants to see you. Your doctor's orders. That or I tell him where you’re hiding and he can come out here. That works too.”

    For as much as Techno was the only one to treat him as a person he was also the only one that was going to argue with him about this to this extreme. It wasn’t exactly extreme but the others would be working to bribe him right now to get him to go or trying to come up with some sort of compromise. Techno had the same strategy he did in war. Make it work to whatever he needed it to be. Take no exceptions. 

“Listen, if I promise to go later then will you let me just enjoy my morning?”

“Is your pain gone?”

    Dream went to argue about there being pain in the first place. He’d thought he’d been hiding it fairly well. He just didn’t have a chance as the little squire answered it for him. 

“Like a fart in a thunderstorm.”

    Silence. Just the birds and the wind of their chilly morning. Then they laughed. 

“What?”

“Dream, you’re corrupting the children. How could you?”

“That’s what Uncle Levi would say.” Dream’s heart stuttered. “When things went away without a trace. You aren’t in pain, are you?”

    Dream let his eyes soften. Knowing the pain this little kid was wearing. How she was hiding it. He shook his head. 

“No.” A glance to Techno before going back to her. “No, Kid, you don’t have to worry about me.”

    He didn’t want her to be worrying about him. He didn’t want her to be thinking she had to watch for him when he was a full grown knight and she was just a little squire. She wasn’t even old enough to be combat training. She was so small. 

    It was his job to protect the ones like her. His job to be guarding the kids that put their faith to the knights around them. 

    That was their purpose. 

“If you aren’t in pain then you don’t need a doctor.”

    Dream made a face to Techno.

“See? She agrees.”

    He was starting to laugh through his words. He could see the smile even from Techno when his friend saw his humor. 

“She’s a smart little lady. You aren’t gonna disagree with her are you Techno?”

“Hey now, that’s not fair—”

“I’m Mr. Techno’s favorite.”

    Dream’s eyebrows shot up to his hair. His old battle buddy was notorious for disliking kids. 

“Oh are you now?”

“Dream, you’re getting distracted.”

“No no, I think I want to hear this.”

“Dream—”

    They heard the pops first. 

    Loud snapping sounds all around the palace walls. Crackling and hissing before the clouds of smoke started rising from all directions and looking like a storm materializing around them to swallow them all whole. 

    Then the horns. 

    Blasting and deafening. Shrieking the warnings every knight knew too well. The system the knights had in place to warn and alert each other that there was something wrong or that they needed to be on alert. A way for them to gather each other and warn the people inside the palace to stay inside. 

    George. 

    Dream pushed himself up to his feet. Techno reaching for the hilt on his hip in the same motion Dream was. He felt Mars grab onto him. She was scared. She didn’t know what was happening. What the horns here meant. 

    Dream listened to the wailing call again. Hearing it echoing around. 

    He heard more pops. Loud screeching sounds. 

    Screams. So many screams. 

    The sounds of knights and metal and the sounds of a fight. An attack. 

    Hesitance over the last month finally broken with a decision that felt like a knife through the heart. 

    Something none of them could avoid no matter how much they wanted to. How much they wanted to be avoiding this as much as they all could. 

    Dream breathed in the sweet scent of the smoke. He held it against his aching lungs. He felt his instinct remind him on what to do. To push away his aches, his past, Focus on the now, not the memories seared into his head. 

    Focus on the horns. On what they meant for him and his home. His family. His life. 

    Another fight. 

    A new war. 

Chapter Text

    Breathe in.

    Dream ran. As fast as he could and feeling the instinct of decades buried into his body. Feeling the weight of his movement as he pushed on ahead. Techno at his side. Both of them with their weapons drawn and ready for the fight. 

    Breathe out. 

    Dream had Mars. Safe and tucked into his arm. He didn’t need both his hands for his sword like he did with Nightmare. His axe was in his tent. He didn’t need to worry about anyone else using her. The weapon was much too heavy and awkward to use without prior training and there would need to be a lot of it. She wasn’t in danger in the tent. Dream had the free arm. 

    He wasn’t going to leave the kid to fend for herself. He wasn’t going to leave her alone in the middle of the fight. 

    Breathe in.

    Mars was coughing. Gagging on the smoke and she was going to need help. Dream knew enough about coughing and lungs to know that the sounds she was making as she gasped weren’t good. He needed to get him away to safety. He needed to make sure James and Francis had their little girl at the end of all this. 

    Dream was going to make sure they didn’t lose her today. 

    Breathe out.

    The run of a fight, even with a child up on his hip and clinging around his neck, was routine. He knew how to move and how to breathe through it. He knew how to hold his sword and how to sense the people around him. It was all what he was used to. The years of the fighting and the instinct buried so far in him. 

    The smoke filled the air. Surrounding them and hiding everything from their sight. He had to be a knight right now. He couldn’t be the wounded Lead that was struggling with his own personhood. He couldn’t be wounded and he couldn’t be damaged. Right now he needed to focus and he had to push himself through to the end or he wasn’t going to get any of them out of this. 

    His boys should have been in the yard training right now. Sam would have been with them. They should be together. They should be safe. George and his parents should have been in the throne room. James and Francis in the East Hall. George was going to be looking for him in the library probably if the other knights didn’t already have them locked down. 

    Dream hoped they were locked down. 

    He didn’t want his lover to worry about him or to know that he was hiding from him. He didn’t want to do any of that especially right now with the situation being something more than life or death if he was right about it. 

    The smoke was the weapon of the West. Mason wouldn’t have allowed something like this. He wanted the war to be over. He considered Central like another home. He wouldn’t have turned on them. 

“Dream!”

    Breathe in. 

    Dream turned. Holding Mars closer to his chest and hiding her face against him as he reached out and struck his blade into the closest person he could reach. Driving the metal through them and feeling the lack of armor. They were in cloth. Leather armor to give themselves more of a stealth and speed capacity than the rest of them. It just also didn’t protect them when it came to facing off against blades of people who wanted them gone and away from their land. 

    Techno was moving. The two of them flanking with each other and working to make sure they had the other’s footsteps in range. They knew each other in battle. They knew how to protect. 

    Breathe out. 

“Mars? You okay?”

    She nodded. She coughed against him. Her whole body shaking and he had to get her out of the smoke. 

“Just hold on, sweetie.”

    Dream ran. Moving like he always had before and turning to check for the threats that could be around. Giving himself the chance to just listen in. 

    His neck locked. 

    Dream felt the pull too late to stop it. Pain slicing down the muscles in the side and back of his neck. Pulsing pain up into his skull and blacking his vision with spots. For a moment he felt like there was no air to take in. Like the smoke had replaced all of it and there was nothing left for him to be able to breathe. 

    Dream tried. 

    He felt his body shaking. 

“Techno!”

    Footfalls were rushing behind him. Dream didn’t have the time to waste. Turning to face the fight he drove his blade forward. Feeling the gush of blood over his glove when he pushed his sword through someone’s middle. He didn’t care who they were. He could find out names to be guilty over later. Right now an attack was an attack and he wasn’t going to let this girl down. 

    His vision was blurring. His head was pounding. He couldn’t breathe right. 

    Breathe in.

“Tech!”

    His friend was there. Scanning him and checking him over and looking for anything that could be the cause of his yell. 

“I need you to take her. Get her help.”

“Dre—”

“I can’t take her.” Please don’t argue. “Just—”

“I got her.”

    One moment Mars was clinging. Holding onto him for dear life and the next she was gone. Hazy shape of her being turned and attaching onto Techno before his friend was nodding and moving away. 

    Dream was alone. 

    Breathe out. 

    Just breathe. 

  Techno was going to make sure that Mars was safe. Nothing was going to be able to get to her while he had her. She was going to get tucked into the palace or wherever she needed to be to be safe from the fighting and safe from the smoke until all of this would be over. 

    They just had to wait out the smoke. 

    They had to give enough time for the fog to clear away and then they’d be alright. 

    These people didn’t have proper armor. They were hoping for stealth and speed for something like this but they were going after the heart of Central. This wasn’t something to take lightly. 

    Dream turned again. His neck pinched. Blinding him a moment and making his body feel weak. Cold washing through him and making him dizzy. He could feel his stomach turn. 

    All of this for a neck wound Phil said was completely fine. 

    Dream kept running. One foot in front of the other to make his way to the front of the palace. He had to trust the other knights to be doing their jobs right now. He had to trust that his royals were safe and that things were going to be okay. 

    He had to find the threat and eliminate it. 

    Instinct was his ally. Racing through his veins as he ran despite the way his neck was screaming with each and every move. His head was pounding. Spinning inside his skull and making it hard for him to focus. 

    Dream had to focus. 

    Breathe in. 

    He was Central’s Leading knight. 

    Breathe out. 

    He was going to defend his home. 

    Dream moved. 

    Turning fast and slicing the blade against flesh. Turning and cutting down the next one to charge him. He could do this. Push after push, he knew he could do this. Fighting and killing were things he knew how to do. Dream could do it for as long as he lived. Even longer by this point he was sure. If there was a longer. 

    Dream fought. Swing after swing to try to finish the attack before things could get too bad. 

    He didn’t turn himself fast enough to block the club to his back. 

    Dream hit the ground. Hard. All the air driving out of his lungs and forcing him to try to choke in something only to find his chest unwilling to expand. His neck was screaming. Spots dancing in front of his eyes and when he tried to move his body to at least get something out of it, it didn’t respond to him. 

    Frozen. 

    Paralyzed and trapped on the battlefield. 

    Dream got the muscles of his arm to twitch. He saw the shadows of the people above him. He was going to be killed here. Murdered and displayed and George was going to be shattered. 

    He wanted to fight. Dream wanted to get up and fight. He wheezed around the smoke. Feeling it burn through him and his stomach turning and cramping. His neck throbbed just by the thought of moving it. 

    He was going to die. 

    The wing of a blade through the air. Carving in a heavy arc that Dream knew almost as well as he knew himself. The sound of Nightmare cutting through bodies. Swinging through and snapping bone. Dropping corpses to the ground and leaving blood in her wake. 

    Dream felt it splash onto him. 

    One look and he saw Tommy hovering next to him. His young squire looking down at him with fear in his eyes. His hands were shaking but he was trying to hold Nightmare up. He’d had some practice with her but nothing was a formal training with the weapon and she was one that required too much training to be able to pick up and use. 

    Out of anyone else here Tommy was the one with a chance for her. Dream watched him. He expected his squire to bend down. To check on him or help him or just, something. 

    Instead, Tommy looked away. Tightening his grip on Nightmare. 

“Tommy—”

“Stay down.”

    As if Dream was the squire that was in over his head with the weapon he was fighting with. As if Dream was the one that was going to get himself killed if he didn’t start being more careful about the things he was doing. 

    His squire hefted Nightmare. Swinging her in an unsteady grip and moving off into the smoke. 

    Dream could see it begin to thin. Just enough at the front of the palace walk that he could watch his squire as his feeling came back. As his lungs remembered what it meant for them to do their job and breathe. He tried to pull in for it. He tried to do good. 

    He watched Nightmare falter. His son stumble under her weight. The people stalking toward him as Tommy tried and failed to lift her again. 

    He wouldn’t allow that. 

    With a new surge of adrenaline Dream forced his feet beneath him. Pushing up and making his body respond so that he could put all of his weight and all of his energy into launching forward. Enough so that he could get his blade over Tommy. Guard him and protect him. He wasn’t going to let anything else happen to his kid. 

    Dream didn’t have Nightmare’s weight to slow him down. He wasn’t in his normal armor to keep him in place. His body, used to handicaps in place to guard him, was so much faster than he thought he still had the potential to be. Moving like the smoke was his to begin with and killing anything that tried to get near him or his boy. Tommy needed a weapon. 

    He couldn’t lift Nightmare. 

“Tommy! Here.”

    He gave his squire his sword. Dragging a dagger out from his belt and ready to work. 

    It was like nothing had changed. Tommy went to defend him. Following his orders on instinct and leaving them to work together with each other. 

    They could do this. 

    Knight and squire. They could win this fight. 

    Until Tommy saw an opening and ran again for Nightmare. Not her specifically but for a rogue that was making a move to steal it. Tommy left his side. Moving forward into the fighting and Dream could barely make him out. It felt like the wind was starting to carry the smoke into them. He could barely see. 

“Tommy!”

    He had to find him. 

“Tommy!”

    He couldn’t lose him again.

“Tom—”

    He turned his head. 

    That was all he’d done. Feeling something crack in his neck before his vision was blacking out entirely. Pain pulsing and screaming out through the rest of his body before his feeling was cutting out entirely. His fingers too thick to hold anything. His stomach trying to abandon everything it had. 

    Dream tried to take a step. 

    He collapsed to his knees instead. Struggling for his palace. Trying to look for help. His head spinning instead. 

    Dream was on the ground when he could see again. Spots and blurs all around him but he could tell by the sun that he was looking at the sky. Noon and the sun staring straight down on him. 

    Mocking him. 

    Taunting him. 

    Dream tried to breathe. To get in a breath and get his body in working order again so that this fight could be finished and he could make sure his squire was alright. That Tommy wasn’t taking Nightmare again and getting himself killed. That Sam, Tubbo and Ranboo were all alright since they were meant to be together but so far the only one he’d found was Tommy. 

    The smoke was clearing again. Another cycle of the wind. Another good thing they had for being them. 

    Dream heard sounds from the gate. Shouts and demands. Orders if he’d ever heard them. 

    He rolled his head to look. Black dancing in front of his eyes and making him swallow a gag that tasted too much like bloodied bile. 

    Mason in black and gold armor. A cut leaking blood over his cheekbone not too far under his eye. Like someone had gone to cut it and missed. 

    Dream watched Mason give orders. Shouting demands and instructions before Western knights were charging in to the new battlefield of their yard. Rushing and defending them. Helping them and guarding them. 

    Mason looked like a King. 

    Dream tried to get up. The tide of the fighting was changing and he needed to get up . he had to be helping. He had to be doing something. If he wasn’t then what was the point of him being here. If he didn’t do anything then what was his purpose in not letting himself be killed. 

    He couldn’t feel one of his legs. He couldn’t move one of his arms. The pain in his neck and skull were too much. His stomach rolled. 

    Dream choked. 

    He saw the horned helmet beside Mason. He saw it turn toward him at the sound. 

    Dream closed his eyes. He should be better than this. Every fight now and he was going to end up on the ground. He could barely call himself a knight. He was nothing. He was useless. He was pathetic. He was a failure at everything he’s tried—

    A hand was on him. 

    Opening his eyes fast he saw Farfadox kneeling down beside him. Hand on his chest to keep him still while he looked him over. It just gave Dream a chance to look his old friend over as well. 

    To see the blood leaking out from between his chest plates. 

“Farfa—”

    The knight looked down. Following his gaze to see the blood on himself before he reached into his belt and pulled out a small vial of health potion. A modified one by the looks of things. A small needle uncapped from the top before Farfa was shoving it into his skin and letting it do its work. 

“That didn’t look healthy.”

    He heard Farfadox huff a laugh. Turning to sit beside him in the grass as the smoke faded more and the din of the fight became less and less. They were winning. Mason’s orders were becoming more and more clear as he guided the West through aiding them in the battle. 

    Dream saw Tubbo and Ranboo running from the smoke and straight to him. 

    He tried to hide the gag when they both tackled him to a hug. Checking him over and making sure he was okay before he was on the ground with them dogpiling on him. 

    Then he saw Tommy. 

    Walking again for Nightmare. Going to lift her from the ground. 

“Stop.”

    Farfadox’s voice nearly made all of them jump. Cold and demanding and full of an order he didn’t officially have the authority to command. 

“Farfa—”

    Tommy stopped. Standing straight and moving toward them. 

“Is he okay?”

“Your knight is on the ground and you care more the weapon?”

    Steel in his voice. Something that was more than what they’d just seen and experienced. Farfa was drawing off something. He was hurting by something. 

“You knew where it was. He wasn’t using it. You were. You were with him. You left him.”

    The accusation was strong. Burning and full of something more. Dream had to stop it. 

“Far—”

“I didn’t leave him.”

“A squire does not abandon their knight.”

“You aren’t one of his squires.”

    Silence. Dream was missing something. The emotions wrapped tight around Tommy’s voice. Something more was going on that he wasn’t aware of. He was missing something his squire was struggling with. Something his old friend was catching. 

“I was—”

“Dream never talked about you. You aren’t his.”

    The wind moved around them. Sharp and fast and looking like it almost shoved Tommy away from Farfadox. Dream hadn’t felt it from behind him. Only in front of him. One quick glance around him and it confirmed that no one else appeared to have even felt it. 

    Farfadox stayed steady. 

“A squire would never leave their knight for dead.”

“You left him.”

“No I didn’t.”

    He had to stop this fight. He had to get them to pull their heads out of their asses and figure out what was going on. 

    The West was here now. They were attacked. They had to count their losses. They had work to be doing; there wasn’t time for this. 

“Stop, both of you.”

    Dream was still struggling. He forced himself to sit up all the same. His vision blurring. Farfa’s hand on his back to keep him up. 

“Tommy,”

    His squire looked at him. Like he was expecting to be lectured or punished or something else of the sort. 

    Dream looked to Nightmare still laying on the ground. 

“I can teach you how to use her. If you want. I can show you how—”

“Nightmare?”

    Dream heard the surprise in his voice. He tried not to let his hurt show. 

“She’ll be your blade one day.”

    It hurt to talk like that in front of Tubbo and Ranboo. 

“Besides,” He allowed himself hope. “I miss our one on one training.”

    Tommy didn’t answer. Not at first. Looking down and away from him. Dream thought that would be it. That his squire’s fear would be the end of it. But the wind moved again. Looking like Tommy nearly was shoved before his primary was nodding and accepting the offer. 

    They needed to talk about it. 

    They had so much to talk about. 

    They had to wait until they had the time to do it. 

    Dream was still sitting in the grass when he heard the shout of his name. George and the rest of the royals all at the palace steps. He wanted to move to get up to greet him and show him that he was alright but with the speed his lover came flying down to him he didn’t have the chance. 

    Dream kept himself as still as he could for George’s body weight to slam into him. His head pulsing with agony at the movement but he simply just pushed his face to hide it into George’s shoulder and tried to breathe through it. His whole body filling with pins and needles but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He had to deal with it. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Love.”

    He needed to calm him down. He could imagine that seeing Nightmare out and bloodied and alone n the ground wasn’t exactly a comforting thing for him but George also knew that he wasn’t carrying her at the moment. That in the day to day he wasn’t using her. He had her for show for certain events but for the most part he was walking around without. Just a sword and some other smaller weapons to try to keep his own protection and safety. 

“Are you alright?”

    George was shaking. He only shook his head. 

    Not something he wanted to say around the others then. Something they could talk about later. Something he’d make sure they talked about later. 

    His leading crowns were greeting Mason. James and Francis standing beside them. Francis had Mar’s propped on his hip. Holding her the same way a father would their child. She seemed better now though even from here Dream could make out the small coughs she still gave. He didn’t miss the way James was checking on her after each one. 

    He wanted to move but his neck felt like it was sooner going to drop his head from his body than give him any kind of support for anything he tried to do at the moment. 

    He wasn’t going to risk it. 

“Majesties!” 

    Techno’s voice came loud and clear. All of them listening in the yard and wanting information about what happened. All of them needing it for the sake of their own peace of mind. Something it felt like they were given less and less these days. War after war. Betrayal after betrayal. It was just trauma after trauma by this point and Dream was ready for them to have their chance to finally heal for a change. 

“We found one still alive!”

    One of the attackers. Someone to give information for them once and for all. To confirm for them the things they were worried about. 

    Dream needed this. All of them needed this. 

    He forced himself to move. Breathing through the dizziness and weakness that tried to chase him and using George as a crutch for them to move forward. Joining the clutter at the palace steps as Techno and some others hauled one of the dark clothed rogues up to the light. 

    The man didn’t speak. 

    His King did first. 

“What is your name?”

    George was watching his father. Like he was trying to record the entire interaction into his head so he would have it for the future. 

    They were given no response. 

“Who were your orders from?”

    None of them believed they were working on their own then. 

“What was your plan?”

    The man laughed. All of them were on edge. 

“Something funny?”

    It was Mason this time to step forward. Glaring down at the man and staring at the gold chain around their neck. Despite the short amount of time they’d been apart it looked like Mason was growing into the role of King well. 

    It suited him. 

    He seemed strong. Powerful. Fair. 

“What was your plan?”

    The rogue was cocky. That much any of them could tell. Dream felt like he was watching everything through flicking frames. Moments where he felt like he was just blinking and everything shifted just a bit. He didn’t know what was going on. He could figure it out later. 

“If you want my plan so you can stop it, you can’t. You’re too late.”

    The West had been attacked. That much he could guess because of the wound on both Farfa and Mason. The Eastern royals were here. It wouldn’t be a long shot to guess they’d been attacked as well. 

“All of the Sun Line here to die.”

“We have more allies than that.”

“Don’t count on the North. The Big Dog isn’t going to save you this time.”

    Dream felt his blood run cold. 

“What are you saying?”

    George took a step forward. Leaving Dream to stand on his own despite how it made everything in him want to find the ground before he fell to it. 

“The Wolf of the North is dead.”

    Dream didn’t believe him. 

“We already took their palace. We ran him through.”

    He wouldn’t believe it until he saw Oliver’s body. 

“I hear he choked to death on his own blood. Gagging on it. Like a real rat dying in a trap. Isn’t that what you called him, Dream?”

    He was going to be sick. 

“Enough—”

“He asked for you all, when he died. Heard that too. That he begged—”

    Oliver wouldn’t have begged.

“That he—”

“Enough!”

    King Ethan moved closer again. Standing tall and in front of all of them. 

    This attack was Compass wide then. Was the group from inside or outside. Where was the source of it. What was the real goal of it. Was the South hurt too? Would they think it was from one of them? 

“Until we hear something from the North everything you’ve said is a lie.”

“Then why ask me in the first place, Majesty?”

    He said it with a mock. Enough to get a rise from every knight watching. Dream pulled his eyes away. Trying to make his body stop the panic that he could feel racing through it. Trying to make himself calm down before he ended up in a panic attack and making everything worse for everyone else. He needed to breathe. He had to get it together if he wanted things to be okay. 

    He only saw it because he was looking at the wall. The ropes hanging down from the top of it. The bodies dangling at their ends. 

    The Central armor the bodies were wearing. 

    The glint of an arrow catching in the light of the sun. 

    Dream yelled the same time the scream of the arrow cut through the air. 

“Get down!”

    He didn’t do it fast enough. 

    All of them watched the arrow land. Sinking into the chest of Central’s King. Burning into him and the red that soaked the shirt he was wearing as he stumbled back. As the rogue laughed. As knights were running. 

    Dream felt his ears ringing. 

    Their King was falling. Their Queen was screaming. 

    And all Dream heard was the damned laugh.

Chapter Text

    Silence. 

    The sound of a heart rushing through his ears. The muffled, muted tones of the world as it came rushing up to greet him. Trying to reach him while Ethan tried to breathe. 

    He couldn’t breathe. 

    His legs were giving out. The world turned to rushes of colors and between one moment and the next he felt as if he were falling. Drifting and fading and for a moment he didn’t know where he was. 

    Right until he was laying in the grass in the field behind the palace. The sounds of knights sparing and laughing around him. The feeling of a thigh beneath his head and hands in his hair. The heat of the sun lighting over him and making him feel like he never wanted to move. 

“Hey sleepy head.”

    Genevieve’s voice was soft. 

“How long was I asleep?”

    He felt like he’d been out for ages. Drifting and slipping around in his own head until he was left waking up feeling like there was something sitting in his chest. He tried to move. 

    Genevieve didn’t let him. 

“Not too long. You need to wake up though.”

    Ethan paused.

“Darling,” 

    She brushed her hands over his face. Looking down at him and smiling so sweetly to him. She looked like the sun and everything made of grace. She looked like hope if it had a form. Like life itself. 

    She was his life. 

“Don’t let go of me yet.”

    He tried to reach for her. His arms felt heavy. 

“I’m not—”

“Ethan, wake up.”

    Wasn’t he already awake?

“Remember everything. Remember where you are.”

“I’m with you.”

    He didn’t understand. 

    She looked sad. 

“I can’t reach you.” He didn’t— “Not like this.”

    Ethan felt heat in his throat. 

“Wake up.”

    She sounded desperate. He thought he saw tears in her eyes. Her smile was going away. 

“Ethan—”

    The knights sparing didn’t sound kind anymore. It sounded bloody. It sounded painful. 

“Ethan— Please—”

    His ears were ringing. He could hear his blood. His chest flooded with heat. 

“Stay with me. Stay with me—”

“Help!”

“Get the sniper.”

“I want soldiers up on the wall, now!”

“Come on, Love. Don’t do this to me. Don’t leave me.”

    The world turned gray. Melting and slipping until the only thing that was still in focus was Genevieve. 

    Her clothes changing and shifting until she was in what looked like one of her blue working gowns. Something she typically wore when it came to just being around the palace and working on their normal duties. Nothing fancy but not out of the style of her station. 

    He wondered if they could have a picnic after this. 

    Hadn’t that been what they were doing?

    He could still see the sun behind her. 

“Stay with me. Look at me, Ethan. Look at me.”

    His eyes were crossing. Eyelids feeling heavier by the second and when he tried to look down at himself he thought he saw something sticking out of his chest. 

    He almost wanted to laugh. 

    Something wet hit his face. Genevieve above him. Patting at his cheeks and holding him to make him look up at her. He would always look up to her. To find her. To see her. To do anything for her as long as he could. 

    Everything was for her. 

    Her tears hit his face. 

    Ethan tasted blood on his tongue. 

“Stay with me— Ethan— Please.”

    He tried to focus. He did. To look at her and follow her and listen to her. To do anything she wanted of him until the day that he died and even then he would sell his ghost to her orders. 

    His soul was hers. 

    He’d sworn it on their wedding day. 

    Light all around them as they stood together in the throne room. Swearing before the thrones of the nation rather than in the chapel to the Gods that she wasn’t the one to believe in. 

    Genevieve wasn’t from Central. She didn’t have the God of Creation as her patron. His word meant nothing to her at the time. They’d gone to something that meant something to the both of them. Something where they would be on even ground. To share the throne together and stand together side by side. 

    All the things they’d done for each other. All the things they cared for with each other. 

    Ethan had held her hands. 

    Watching the light stain her through the class. White gown with metal pieces of armor woven into the threads and decorating her in chains and beauty. Showing her perfection and making her glow in blue. 

    An angel if he would ever have the chance to see one. 

“Don’t close your eyes.”

    He opened his eyes to her wedding dress changing back to her current. Smoke wafting around them. Tears running down her face and dirt on her. 

    She’d been through a fight. All of them had been through a fight. 

    Where was the fight?

    Was he meant to be in a fight?

    Was he meant to be protecting them?

“Ethan, come on. Stay awake. Stay with me.”

    He was trying. His body was feeling more and more heavy. He didn’t know where he was looking. He didn’t know what he was doing. 

    He didn’t have the energy to be breathing. 

“Please…”

    He heard her sounding broken. He didn’t want her to be broken. 

“Ge—” His throat was burning. Screaming and lacing with agony. “Gen—”

    He didn’t want her to be crying. He didn’t want her to be hurt. He wanted to try to help her. 

    No sooner did he lift his arm did he feel white hot heat racing through him. Blinding down the right side of his body and making him feel numb. 

“Gene—”

    He cried. It hurt. Writhing through him like it was crawling. Living in him and breaking him as he tried to endure through the things he was trying for. 

    He wanted her to know that he was there. That he was trying to fight for her. That he was trying to be good. Trying to do the things she wanted him to do. 

“I’m right here.”

    Her voice was choked. 

    He heard someone else screaming for help. A shadow beside him that he thought looked like his son. A strangled word that he thought sounded like Dad. 

“We’re here.”

    Ethan tried to breathe. He couldn’t get the air into his lungs. His tears were falling down the corners of his face. 

“It—” Ethan gagged. “It hurts.”

    It felt like he was a boy again. Coming back from the war fronts and trying to find solace in the memories of his parents. Trying to remember what he was supposed to be doing at what points. Laying up in the chapel leaned up against the altar and hoping that he could have something that would bring him joy again. Telling the ghosts of his parents that he was hurting and that he needed something more. 

    The East had been there. Lucas and his parents checking on him and holding him when it got too much for him. Guiding him and showing him the comfort that he desperately needed. 

    He felt like he was a nineteen year old King coming home to Genevieve again and falling straight into her arms. Telling her about the aches and bruises he felt through his body and telling her about the things that had happened to him out in the fighting. The suffering that had happened. 

    The pain that he’d felt. 

    Ethan knew suffering. He knew the struggles his body had gone through. He knew what it felt like when his heart was trying to collapse on itself and he felt the world dissolving around him. He knew that this wasn’t it. That he was breaking apart and that he was worse now than he’d been before. 

    Ethan had died before. 

    Ethan had died before in front of Genevieve. She’d already watched him die once. He didn’t want to make her watch it again. 

    It felt the same as it did then. 

    Ethan tried to breathe. He tried to force the air into his lungs but it sprayed with thick liquid instead. The taste of blood so thick on his tongue he felt like he could throw up for hours and he’d still taste it rather than the bile that would be there. 

    He’d died on the floor of Genevieve’s palace. He’d died when his heart was collapsing and he couldn’t feel anything but the way it squeezed and pounded and stuttered in his chest. The electricity that had raced through his body until it was shorting him out and leaving him choking. She’d done everything she could to save him. To bring him back around and get him to safety where he would be guarded. She’d worked with him. 

    She’d tried. 

    She’d watched his heart stop. The healers and the medics racing to bring him back. Doing what they could on the orders of their then Princess. Trying to save the King of a nation that wasn’t their own. 

    They’d barely been able to bring him back. 

    Genevieve had clung onto his hand. Sitting with him and waiting for him and when they knew that his heart wouldn’t properly recover from the things that happened to him that day she promised to protect him. To guard his heart with every part of herself. 

    She’d told him a year ago that she would break if he died. He’d called her his heart. 

    She was everything he lived for. 

    She was the reason he lived. 

    And yet he kept dying on her. 

“Genevie—”

    He wanted to tell her he loved her. He wanted to confess to her one last time if this was really going to be the end. He needed to let her know that she was the very world he lived in. That every blade of grass and every flower he held was hers. That his eyes found her first in every room. That when he dreamt he would see her. 

    His death was with her. 

    He saw it when he closed his eyes. 

    Shuttering breaths and limbs turning cold. When he closed his eyes he saw her sitting above him in the field. The two of them together and her fingers in his hair. Watching over him and telling him he needed to wake up. To go back. To fight. That he had to be pushing more. That he needed to be working more. 

    He wanted to tell her one more time. 

“I—”

    She shook her head above him. Brown curls falling down into his face. Like the times when he was laying on the bed with her hovering above him. Leaning down and kissing him and holding his face. Cradling him against the pillows and the sheets and their bodies close together. 

    He wanted her again. 

    He wanted to feel alive again. 

    He didn’t want to die again. 

“I love—”

“No, no—”

“Gene—”

    His tears fell thick. He coughed. His lungs straining around himself. Leaving him to whimper the word to try to beg for her. He just needed her. 

    He needed her. 

“You are not dying on me. You are not giving up on me.”

    He didn’t want to give up. He didn’t want to let her down. He didn’t want to make her mad at him. All he’d wanted was to make her happy. It was what he’d said in his vows. The only thing he’d sworn to do with his heart and his soul both ready on the line. 

    His one true endeavor. 

“You are not dying.”

    His ears were ringing. 

“You’re staying awake, you’re fighting.”

“We need Phil. We need potions. Does anyone have potions?!”

    His lungs were failing. Flooding with his own blood and leaving him no room for air. 

“You aren’t leaving me.”

    He saw the meadow. 

“Wake up.”

    He wanted to. He wanted to be with her. 

    He barely felt her touch on his face. 

“Wake up.”

    He tried to open his eyes. The sun was too bright. She felt so close but he couldn’t feel her. 

“Please.”

    He heard her break. Her terror and the waver pulling her apart. 

“Please, Ethan.”

    She was holding his hand. Squeezing his fingers and brushing his hair back from his face. 

    Her lips were on his forehead. 

“Please wake up.”

    He tried.

    For all the fight he had in his body he tried. He fought to get his way to her. To push to her and show her the love he still had in him. To show her the passion he had for her. He needed her. He didn’t want to break her. 

    He didn’t say he loved her 

    He didn’t get to tell her. He didn’t—

“Please.”

    He couldn’t. 

    Dream watched. 

    Standing on the side and helpless to do anything. He wasn’t in his usual armor. He didn’t have the potions that would typically be on him for his gear. He didn’t see anyone around him who did who hadn’t already used them. No one was ready for this kind of an assault. 

    Their home. 

    Their lives. 

    Their King. 

    Dream was forced to watch. Seeing the knights swarm the archer from the wall and bring them down. The fight bringing everything to a head and then an end. 

    Dream watched as Phil and other healers and medics raced to them. As Ant had to pull their Queen away and he was forced to step in to take George. Watching Ethan be lifted onto the stretcher and brought to the palace. Bringing them in so that they can get to work in saving him. They needed to save him. 

    If they didn’t then Dream didn’t know what he was going to do. What any of them would do. 

    He focused on George. 

    Focusing in on what he needed to do to try to help his lover. 

    If that meant turning him away from his father who looked more and more like a corpse then that was what it would take. Dream turned him. Looking at George’s tear streaked face as he heaved for breath. Trying to make him look at him instead. 

“George—”

        He had to be the strong one for him. He had to help him. He had to guard him right now. Right now it didn’t matter any of the things that were going on with him. Right now was the moment that he had to be what he was meant to be. 

    A knight. A partner. He had to be here for George. He had to protect him. Support him in all the ways he was meant to from the beginning. 

    He had to fight for him. 

“He’s dead—”

“He’s not.”

    Until they had the confirmation. Until they knew for sure. Until Dream saw him himself. A corpse without life or air in his lungs. Until he knew that they were well and truly gone he would never believe that they were dead. He would never trust that they were gone. It wasn’t something in their cards. It wasn’t part of what they had for them. They were going to fight. 

    They were going to make it. 

    Central’s rulers. Central’s crown. The people that could fight through anything and make it. They were strong enough to make it through this. 

    The fighting was over for now. 

    The other royals were fine. 

    They were safe. 

    They were moving. 

    Francis was holding Mars against him. Working to make sure she wasn’t seeing the things that were happening. That she wasn’t listening in to the horror around her. That she wasn’t being forced to watch a man die. 

    They needed to follow to the infirmary. It was going to be their place for right now. It was going to be where they were needed the most out of everywhere else. They had to be watching to see what was going to happen. They had to know. 

    They needed to be there in case this really was the end. 

    If they couldn’t save him. 

    If they would be suffered and lost alone. 

    George burrowed into him. Forcing their bodies closer and pushing against him like it was the one single anchor in his life. Dream held him back without hesitation. Holding his body up and trying to brace him as much as he could. 

“I have you. I have you.”

“He’s—”

“Have faith.”

    The words felt croaked from his mouth. Trembling and shaking and rotting on his tongue. 

    Dream had never been a man of faith despite the numerous things from his life that said that he should be. Over and over again he was being told that he needed to be the one to believe. That he should be lucky and counting his blessings at being favored by a god. That he should be happy to be dotted on and protected. 

    He wasn’t. 

    Not for something he didn’t believe existed. 

    But that didn’t matter right now. His own faith and belief had nothing to do with what was happening now. The only things that mattered was the fact that he knew George believed. He knew his lover and he knew that he cared about the Gods. That after the arena he was even more interested in praying to the God of Creation. Calling him a savior and telling him that the God had saved them from there. 

    Dream trusted George. He did. He just—

    He would play along where he had to. He didn’t know what he believed anymore. 

“He’s going to survive. He’s your father. He can fight this.”

    It had gone through him. 

    Dream knew wounds. He knew the things that happened to bodies and he knew the marks of war and wounds. He knew how much a  person could take before they would fall to their injuries. He knew when a knight was going to die on the battlefield and when they would be making it home. He knew the difference between the safety and the dead. 

    Their King’s chance was small. 

    Small and shorter the longer it had taken to get him to help. The arrow he’d known just by the sound it made through the air. The armor piercers that were built to be killers through the strongest of armor. 

    His King wasn’t in armor. 

    Dream felt his hands shake. He held George closer. 

    King Ethan was like another father to him. One that had always supported him and checked on him. 

    The two of them had talked a lot in the wakes of the war. When he would come home from the Fronts and give his reports. His King would pull him to the side to talk to him. Checking on him and making sure he was caring for himself. Dream had always hidden the things under his gloves but his King had always seemed like he understood. 

    Dream knew the stories, of course. 

    he boy King of Central. The one that had gained the title of Mercy through the amount of blood dripping through his hands and off his blade. He’d been a killer just like Dream. He’d done it to bring peace to his nation. 

    They’d talked about it. More often than not he’d put an arm around him and told him stories about him and the Queen. How the two of them had met. How they’d started courting. 

    How she had hated him at first. 

    It reminded him so much of him and George. 

“I didn’t tell him I loved him.”

    Dream felt his breath hitch. George against him and heaving around his lungs. There was a burning pressure behind his eyes and nose. Pulsing back into his head and adding in the weight against his neck. Making it feel almost like his head was too heavy to be holding and instead leaving him alone with the knowledge that this could really be the end. That they might not have a choice after this. 

    That it could all be over. 

“He knows.”

    Any comfort he could give. Anything he could find for his lover. Anything he could use to try to help him and save him from the poison that was going to rot through his mind and heart. 

    Dream turned to see the rest of his knights. The way they were standing and watching with mounting horrors on their faces. He knew that they all knew what they were looking at. That the chances of survival right now were going to be slim to none. That their hope right now had to fully go for their King. 

    To hope that he could make it through this. That he would not be falling. 

    That Central wouldn’t lose one of their most beloved crowns. 

    Dream had to swallow his tears. He couldn’t afford to cry right now. Not when he needed to be strong. Not when he needed to be the leader for all of them. He had to be the fighter for them. He had to be the mark point that would get them through this. It was his job as the Lead. 

    Ethan had made him the Lead. He’d made him the mark point and set him for what he’d needed him to do. He was George’s knight. Granted early access by his King and Dream had tried to serve him well. To protect him. 

    He hadn’t been fast enough. 

“Check everything!”

    He held George against him. Feeling him shiver and cry hidden against his chest. Dream held him close. He still yelled the orders to his knights. 

    They needed to be moving. They needed to be working right now. They needed to be doing everything they could right now in order to secure the palace and give a safety for their crowns to be safe. 

    That was their one and only goal. 

“All surviving rogues to the dungeons!”

    He watched Mason’s eyes darken. The terror there melting away into something far angrier. 

    He’d sworn an oath to Ethan and Central. He was still one of Central’s knights in his heart. 

    He was holding out for that. 

    Dream could leave him to handle that. 

“George?”

“I’m going to be sick.”

    Dream looked up. Finding Ant across from him and seeing the desperate wounded look on his face. He turned to look at his boys. Seeing them staring before looking to him for their guidance. 

“No one goes in or out of this palace!”

    He had to lead. 

“Any attempts or hints of a threat will be punished!”

    He wasn’t going to take a chance with them. 

“Execute the rogues if you must.”

    He wasn’t going to let them hear him keep them alive. He would kill all of them if it helped to protect his home. He wasn’t going to stand around and give them the right to live if they’d stolen that same right from his King. 

    He couldn’t stand to watch it all fall apart. He needed this still. He needed their home. He needed the safety. 

“We’re going to see him.”

    Phil would still be working. 

    If he was right then this was going to be a complicated and long surgery. This wasn’t just something that was walked off. This wasn’t something where they poured potions into him and he would be alright. The amount of injuries that were happening right now were going to cause a strain on the palace. They were going to be suffering. 

    They would be feeling this hit. This loss that was shot into them. 

    An armor piercing arrow. Used on a man that wasn’t in his armor and often times wasn’t. 

    It made him wonder if Ethan had been the intended target. 

    Dream focused on George for the whole walk to the infirmary. Careful and moving with all of them until it almost felt like they were walking through a funeral procession. Like it was already too late and their King was already gone. Like they truly hadn’t made it in time and they would walk into the infirmary only to face Phil and the grief on his face. 

    He was operating on one of his closest friends. 

    He’d need to tell Sam. 

    He needed Sam. 

    He didn’t know where he was. 

    Dream kept himself moving. Getting them until he was able to lean up against a wall with George still clinging onto him. He didn’t mind. Not in the slightest. He needed to know that his lover was still trying to breathe as George was crying himself out. 

    He still felt the tremor of the fight racing under his skin. 

    Adrenaline crash. 

    One that he couldn’t take right now. 

    He needed it to keep going if he wanted to be able to fight back against all the things that were going on. He needed to be able to keep going if he was going to be takfing charge until they knew more. If they lost their King to this then they were going to need him more and more. 

    He was still trying to process everything else. 

    If Oliver was really gone. 

    James and Francis had followed them. He could see the hurting knowledge shining in his friend’s eyes. They were both thinking about the same things. They were both worried but they couldn’t act. Not without more information and not until their royals gave them the okay. Not until they had their priorities and their anger in the correct check for what had been done to them. 

    Dream would hunt each and every member of the rogues responsible until they were gone from the earth. Until there was not a single drop of their blood that was left to stain and show degeneration into the people of the world. 

    At some point Dream ended up holding almost all of George’s weight. The two of them standing leaning on one another. Dream’s arms felt numb. His hands were cold. He realized most of his body felt like it was covered in pins and needles. Like he couldn’t really feel any of it despite how much he was trying to. He couldn’t. 

    His neck locked the moment he tried to move it but he pushed through. Forcing his head straight and feeling the wash through his body that followed. Sparks and spots dancing in front of his eyes and leaving him feeling fuzzy so much that he closed his eyes. 

    Squeezing them tight and trying to just steady out his breathing. 

    George needed him more right now. George needed him to be a support. 

“Love?”

    He needed to be gentle right now. He couldn’t force and he couldn’t use anything that might set him off. He needed to be sweet and kind and even though Dream would never do anything that would hurt George, he wanted to be extra careful with him for this. He wanted to be certain. He wanted—

“Do you want something to drink?”

    All the crying he was going to be dehydrated if he didn’t get something into his system soon. All of them would. They needed the drink after all the fighting they’d done out in the yard. None of them had escaped the combat. That much he could more than tell. He didn’t want to scare any of them but they needed water. They needed something to make sure they weren’t going to drop. 

    He could almost feel George thinking against him. Holding on closer and tighter to him until he was nodding against his shoulder. 

    Dream picked up the soft murmurs between James and Francis that Fran should go to help for carrying the amount of water bottles they were going to need. Dream focused more on lowering George down to a chair and making sure he was alright to be alone before he fully pulled himself away. 

    Dream pushed his hair away in the same move that cupped his face. Leaning forward and placing a soft kiss onto his forehead. 

    He pulled away before the guilt in his heart could convince him to stay. 

    Standing straight was a harder task than he’d planned. Forcing his legs to move and his body to stay standing upright as he walked back towards the storage for the infirmary. There were shelves of water bottles back here in the case of potion brewing but also because it was the best thing for them to be drinking most of the time when ill. He heard the footsteps behind him. He knew that it was Francis. 

    Dream knew. 

    His body still had his heart racing by the time he turned into the storage shelves. Pounding against him and making his neck feel weaker and weaker. He’d barely made it to the wall with the water before he was feeling the world fall around him. Everything spinning and going dark before there were hands on him and he registered he was being held. 

    Hands on his face. Patting at him and distress in his voice. 

“Dream?”

“I’m alright.”

    He knew even with his eyes still blurring too much for him to see that Francis didn’t believe him. 

“What just happened?”

    He didn’t know. He didn’t know he was falling. He didn’t know something was wrong. 

“Adrenaline crash.”

“Bullshit.”

    He said it with so much certainty. Enough that Dream was trying to pull himself up to sit on his own and feeling the dizziness come back. His heart feeling almost like it was fluttering in his chest while his body went through phases of being numb and tingling. 

“We had spies during the war too. I know damn well what you’re like coming off adrenaline. You have never once in your life collapsed because of it.”

    Dream made a face. 

“What was that?”

    He only had the path of being honest. 

“I don’t know.”

    It didn’t seem to help. 

“Does George know?”

    God no. He couldn’t take that right now. He had way more than enough on his plate right now. If he tried to tell George then he was more likely to be placing his lover into the infirmary himself. Beyond that, George was already far too worried about him. He didn’t need another thing to add to the list. Dream had had enough of being treated like he was made of glass. He didn’t need to add another reason onto the list. 

“Dream,” He knew the lecture. “You need to tell him.”

“Not right now.”

“Soon.”

    Dream could argue when that was. 

“At least tell Phil. Or someone. This could be serious.”

“I’ll be fine.”

    They had to get the waters. 

“You can’t even stand—”

    Almost with pure spite, Dream pushed himself to his feet. Standing tall and without a waver in his frame. He stared down toward his friend until Francis was huffing and shaking his head. Standing up beside him and helping him to gather waters to take back to the others. Giving them their time to wait until they had news. 

    Until they knew the fate of Central and everyone inside it. 

“Promise me you’ll tell them.”

“If it happens again.”

“Dream…”

“If it happens again, I’ll tell. I’m not going to worry them for something that is easily the adrenaline of the fight.”

    He knew that Francis didn’t like it. He didn’t care. He didn’t have to like it. 

    The only thing that mattered to Dream right now was his family. If his family would be better for this then he didn’t care about the rest. 

“Fine.”

    They stepped back into the hall. Making it to the waiting room and giving out waters between them all. Dream had just straightened up again when he saw Sam being supported and guided in by Ponk. His knight was limping. Blood running the whole way down his leg and trailing in drops behind where he’d stepped. 

“Sam?”

“I’m alright.”

    Ponk made a face. 

“Shot. Armor piercer. He’ll be fine but part of the tip is still inside and I’d rather get it out before it festers.”

    In seconds the both of them took in the rest of the room. The tears. The member that was missing. He saw their faces pale. 

    He saw Sam look gutted. 

“Which one of them?”

    Dream swallowed. He heard George choke. He reached to support him. 

“Is he….?”

    He didn’t want to finish off the question. 

“We don’t know.”

    The moments after they heard the scuff of a foot on the quartz. Getting all of their attention to turn and seeing Phil with a nearly blood soaked apron around him. 

“Phil?”

    Queen Genevieve was standing. Crossing to him and looking at him with all the hope and questions that she could ask without opening her mouth. Dream held George. He was going to brunt whatever this news was. He was going to help him with it. 

“He’s alive.”

    All of them breathed. For a moment Dream thought George was about to faint. 

“But, it isn’t good.”

    Dream understood. The damage those arrows could do. They maimed. They killed. 

“He’s being held up by the machines right now. He’s being supported by potions. If…Right now the only way he’s staying alive is keeping him asleep. Right now he’s…”

“He can’t lead.”

    Central needed their crown. They needed their charge. All of it would usually fall to their Queen. It would be left to her and it would be on her shoulders to carry them through the rest of this. 

    There was just the rule they all knew that she wouldn’t. That she would never lead without him by her side. 

    There was only one other path for them to go. 

“He might not survive this. He…I did everything I could but he’s not…”

    Only one path for them. 

    Only one option they had for moving on through this. 

    Even alive. Even all the pain they’d been through. Even all the suffering they’d endured. 

    It wasn’t the way they wanted. It wasn’t their peace they deserved. 

    For George to act as King. For Dream to be by his side. 

    Together. 

Chapter Text

    Central’s palace felt more like a tomb than it was for anything else. For the amount of injuries they were finding there weren’t many deaths. The ones that were found didn’t appear to be intended other than a handful. 

    Dream kept himself in check. Armor changed quickly into his netherite plating while he waited for George to wash his father’s blood off himself. 

    They didn’t have a choice with what they were about to do. They’d act as they needed to and they’d figure out what was left for them. They’d manage. 

    It was what they did. 

    So now standing in the throne room, Dream acknowledged the fact that it felt more like a war room than the political standing ground. This was being used right now for something that was worse than its intent. The throne room was for ceremony and the complaints of their people. It was being used now for the reports of injury and death. For the status of damage to the palace and the items inside. Checking if the East was harmed and if it was anywhere else other than here. 

    George looked haunted. 

    Choking down his emotions and keeping them chained in the back of his throat. Ant was in the infirmary to stay by their Queen’s side. He was her knight. Had been since she was still a Princess. Dream knew that he would do the same. He’d be with George for anything at any time. If he had to abandon Central to save George, he would. He wouldn’t even hesitate. 

    Sam was helping where he could. Sitting in a chair to give his leg time to rest while the bandages stayed circled around the wound that was there. It was barely even noticeable. Just in the way he was limping and not really walking without someone by his side. 

    James and Francis had gone to the reflecting pools. Toby and Mars with them once they were sure the four of them were alright. They’d moved down to attempt to reach the palace and see the state of their nation. 

    They needed to know how far spread this was. 

    They were waiting on reports. 

    Dream had ordered his ranking knights to report to the throne room. 

    Sapnap and Punz hadn’t shown yet. Bad was going out to look for them. Dream swallowed his worry and worked. 

“The North was attacked. So was the West. With Central now, we can assume the East either already has or it will be.”

    Mason was looking over the map at the table all the same with George. They were talking to figure things out. King to acting King. it felt like Dream could already see the exhaustion in his lover’s eyes. 

“Dream?”

    His head turned to find Tommy by one of the pillars. One check of the room and Dream was going over to his squire. The three of them were helping with things where they could. Guiding knights back to the infirmary and running for supplies when it was needed. That’s what they were supposed to be doing. 

“What is it?”

“I just,” Tommy hesitated. Stalling in his words and looking like he was mulling them over. Like he wasn’t sure what he wanted to be saying even though he was the one that started the conversation. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

    Dream paused. 

    Since everything that happened in the arena it was like his squire had wanted almost nothing to do with him. Like he was avoiding him at every point he could so that he wouldn’t have to see him. Dream wanted to fix it. Dream wanted to try to make things go back to how they’d been before. 

    This was a step. 

“I’m alright.”

“I didn’t mean to get Nightmare before you. I just—”

    That’s what this was about.

“It’s okay.”

“But it’s not.”

    The words came out louder than Tommy had wanted. He watched his squire flinch at the sound of himself and the hush that rolled through. George was watching him. He could see the worry and the stress that was there. He watched Farfa shift from his place beside Mason. 

“A squire’s job isn’t—”

“Tommy,” He needed his son to understand. Dream knelt to be lower than him. Putting his hands on his shoulders and looking up to his boy so that he would know his honesty. “It’s okay.”

    Something more was going on. Tommy bit his lip. He looked like he was either going to cry or run. 

“Toms—”

“I haven’t seen you as you since the fucking arena. Not until you could have died. I don’t—”

    Dream felt his stomach drop. 

“I don’t deserve to be your squire.”

    Pulling Tommy into a hug was one of the easiest things he’d ever done. Tugging his squire against him and holding him close. Tight so that he would feel it the whole way through. He felt his back ache at the movement. The muscles in his neck overstretching. 

“Don’t say that.”

“But I—”

“You have every right to hate me after what I did to you in that arena. You have every reason to want me away from you. You— Tommy, what you went through—”

“You died in there too.”

    Dream paused. He knew he’d had seizures and he knew that there had been more than a few close calls for him but he didn’t know he’d died at all. He didn’t think his heart had stopped at all. 

“I watched you die because I wasn’t able to protect you.”

    He didn’t know what he was talking about. Did he see him seize? Was he thinking like one of the seizures had killed him? He knew they looked scary. He knew they weren’t pleasant for anyone but he was very much still alive. Or did he think the serum killed him? As far as he was aware when he’d tried fighting it wasn’t enough. He remembered feeling the tightness in his chest and the pressure in his head. Thinking that death would be the better option and trying to latch on to the people he loved like he’d done before. He remembered trying to fight against it. He also remembered how Parker’s words had overruled everything else. How the serum had made him want it. But Tommy had to know that wasn’t the same thing as death. That that wasn’t something that had killed him. 

    If he was killed a month ago then he wouldn’t be standing here now. 

“Tommy, I didn’t—”

“You died strapped to the table after Parker did the alchemy on you.” It looked like the words were falling out. “They weren’t stopping and I was taken out. It took too long for me to figure out how to fight and get back to you. I only got the one alchemist before I wasn’t strong enough to fight. You weren’t moving. You weren’t breathing. You—”

    He had to stop this

“Tommy—”

“You were dead and I was trying to rationalize it like Bad said to do and I—”

    He felt sick. 

“Tommy—”

“I imagined you stayed dead so that it wasn’t you who killed me.”

    Silence. 

    If heartbreak could be tasted Dream would call it blood and bile. He would say it was the ash that felt as if it covered his tongue. 

“I’m not dead.”

“It was easier to think like you were.”

“Do you want me to be?”

    Tommy didn’t answer. That in and of itself was answer enough. Dream nodded despite the pain in his chest. Sparking through his neck and into his brain. 

“I’m glad you aren’t.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I just need to find you again.”

    Dream waited. Tommy settled himself into his resolve. 

“I just have to find you. I saw you again today. The leader I looked up to. I saw my knight.”

    There was guilt heavy in his heart. 

“I just, I haven’t seen him in a while I guess I—”

“You really believed he was dead.”

“Sometimes I pretended he died in the cave and that none of it happened at all.”

    It felt like a knife going straight through him. 

“Toms…”

“I just, I saw you again today and it put it back together that you didn’t die and you’re here and I’ve been a royal ass and—”

“You don’t have to explain—”

“I’ve been a shithole of a squire and I’m going to do better.”

    It was a two way street. He’d been out from under the serum for a while. Tommy only saw him again today. 

“I will too.” He needed his boy to know he was there. “You aren’t going to lose your knight.”

    The commander. The Lead. The man that was the match to an army in and of himself. Dream knew the stories of what he was but after the things that were done to him in the arena and the cave he’d doubted if he was still capable of those feats. If he was able to put the same fight that he had all those times before. He thought he might be broken. The injuries he still felt that lanced through him and made him gag. The pain and the fear that settled into his chest like a rock trying to crush him down. 

    Tommy hadn’t found him in over a year if this went the whole way back to the cave. Two years? How close were they getting to two years? How long had they been suffering like this? 

    Dream needed to be better. If he was going to get his son to come back to him. If he was going to maintain the respect that had been built for him over the years then he needed to be better. If Tommy was going to think of him like this then how many others were as well. How many people were believing that he was broken by the West and unable to come back? How many of them thought of him as dead and killed and nothing but a shadow being left in place. 

    He’d failed them. 

    All of them.

    All the pain they’d been through and they’d been looking for him. They’d all been looking for him and all Dream had done was fail them. Forcing them closer and closer to the edge until there was nothing else for them to take. They were left without their Lead and Dream had been standing right there. 

    He’d been taught what it was to be pathetic. He knew what it was to be truly weak and worthless. Dream knew the pain that resided in his heart when he was a boy and he’d thought he;d done better but clearly not. If he was just going to be failing then what was the point of any of it. He was meant to be strong. To be a leader. Dream hadn’t wanted to be too weak for anyone anymore. He’d wanted to be strong. He’d wanted to be something good for the world not something to waste away in it. 

    Dream had wanted to be the defender that could prove that people could make it out to be something better for themselves and now his own squire was pretending he was dead so that it was easier. 

    What a failure he was. 

“I’ll make sure you see your knight.”

    His squire smiled at him. For the first time in ages it felt like they might actually be alright. 

“How are Tubbo and Ranboo?”

    Tommy breathed a bit. It was like he was starting to relax again. 

“Helping. Which, I should be doing too. I guess.”

    Despite the heaviness in his heart Dream let himself huff a bit of a laugh. 

“Go. We’ll be in here. Round up the other squires and do a head count. I want you guys to go help the kitchen staff make sure there’s enough provisions and help them prep whatever they need. Fights make the knights hungry and I want to feed anyone who was hurt in the capital until we know more, okay?”

    Tommy nodded. He looked glad for the task. 

“Report back once you’ve got the headcount. If you notice anything—”

“I got it.”

“I might be the Lead for the knights but that makes you the Lead for the squires. Can you do that?”

    An echo to their conversation before it all went wrong. Dream telling Tommy that he wanted to help him to be the Lead. he wanted to help his squire take over his place. Right now was a testing ground. Trials through the fire even though Tommy had already more than proven himself for the role. It wasn’t technically fair. He knew that. But he knew a task was going to be the best thing for him and if Tommy was leading and working then he’d calm himself down into the pattern of it. 

    It was the same trick Dream used on himself most of the time. 

    He saw Tommy smile when he nodded. Conflicting emotions still in his eyes but a smile was a smile and that wasn’t something he was willing to question right now. If he could get something other than the haunted horror out of his squire he would take it. 

    It was a squire’s place to smile and laugh. To let the knight handle everything worse. Dream had failed to protect them from that too. 

    He turned back in towards the rest of the room. Moving forward again and appreciating the sunlight that was coming in from the windows and wall entrances. Something at least a little good for them today then. Something that they could make an attempt to look towards for a sake of comfort. 

    Dream made his way back to the table. Taking a breath and letting himself try to focus in on what they were talking about. Letting George reach for him and take the comfort he needed from him. 

    They’d figure this out. 

    Report by report if they needed to. They could figure this out. They’d done it before and they’d do it again. The Sun Line was united again for the first time in decades. They were standing shoulder to shoulder on this and they were going to punish the people responsible for attempting to harm it. 

    The Compass would heal with them. 

“I want to sent a notice of our attack to the North. I want a confirmation of the things they said.”

    Dream could hear the pain in Mason’s voice. The thought of Oliver being killed like that and nothing being sent to them was still a sour one. He knew the way their bond seemed to outsiders but Hannah would have sent something. She knew how close they’d all become. Something would have been sent to the whole of the Sun Line if he was really gone. 

    Until Dream had their word of it he wasn’t going to believe in it. 

    The doors of the throne room creaked open. James looking like a shadow was sitting over his face and Francis and Toby right at his sides. Mars wasn’t with them anymore. They must have given her off to someone else to watch with the rest of the Eastern squires. 

“James?”

“It was the East too.”

    Dream felt his stomach twist.

“Smoke hit the whole yard. Four of those arrows in the throne. The Stars are….”

    The grimace on his face filled in the rest of the words he left unsaid. Showing in the pain and unease they were all shouldering. 

    George cleared his throat. 

“So it’s at least three of the five of us that are confirmed. I want word of the North and a warning sent to them to be on watch. For the South,” George sighed. “I don’t know.”

    Dream didn’t waste a second to put an arm around him. Trying to give him as much support as he could. 

“Puffy hasn’t reported in yet. Neither has Purpled.”

    Francis frowned. 

“I’d rather we find them sooner than later.”

“It wasn’t her, Fran.”

    He could hear the accusation that was there and while he understood it, he didn’t believe it. Puffy was the start of the rebellion. She was trying to aid the South in going back to Central. She was trying and her squire was on her side. They weren’t the cause of this. They wouldn’t suddenly change their tunes. 

“For the sake of your crown,” Dream let himself glare at the words. The insinuation it gave. “We need to find them.”

    George grabbed his hand beneath the table. Squeezing it three times and holding him back from acting out of his emotion. Sam kept his eyes down on the table. Shifting a bit and barely covering the wince he gave when he moved his leg. 

“We should send word to the South as well.”

    Mason tensed. 

“We haven’t heard from them still.”

“Sounds familiar to a point though, doesn’t it?” 

    James’ voice came out soft. Leaning forward with his hands on the edge of the table and pointing out the situation again that had happened in the East with their war. It was complicated. A lot of death and a lot of emotion and none of them knew what the right answer was going to be. 

“Dream?”

    He looked at his lover. 

“Tell me what you think.”

    He squeezed George’s hand back. 

“If they were hurt too and this was an attack to the whole Compass then we need to know before it’s too late. We need to be united if outsiders attack.”

“Even with everything that it could be? Even if the South is responsible?”

    He looked over the map. Thought about all the things they’d all been through. All the things that they suffered and the risks they were holding right now. The fact that their King was laying in the infirmary and could be dying. That there could be many more. That they had so many of their family that were missing. 

    Punz, Sapnap, Bad, Puffy, Purpled, Foolish, Zach.

    There were so many more. 

“It’s worth the risk, isn’t it?”

    Dream was known for his strategy. He was the planner of a lot of their war moves. He would take in the situations they had and he’d made the moves that brought them their victories. The issue was that a lot of it came from knowing the enemy. He knew how the East fought from his years of being a squire sitting at Sam’s side and reading through the reports with him. He knew what to expect. 

    Right now he didn’t know the enemy. 

    If they were going to make it through another war and more attacks then they needed to know who and what they were up against. 

“A confirmation is what we need right now.”

    If they were going to save what they had left. 

    If they had a chance to find their family. 

“I think we send word. We fortify the palace. Extra patrols out in the capital as well. The rogues got in here somehow. Chances are there’s a base in the city. We find that, we get more information.”

    He could see the others around the table nodding in their agreement. The pride that was in Sam’s eyes. 

    Dream swallowed back the sickness he felt in his throat. He didn’t want to show it to them. He didn’t want them to know the pain he was in. 

    He could manage a little while longer. 

    He needed to stop letting them down. 

    Right now they needed him as the knight that he was. They needed him to be strong and brave and the leader that they chose him for. They needed him to be the mark point. He was useless if he went to the infirmary again. He’d be worth nothing to them. 

    Dream could do better. 

    He could make himself better. 

    Be the knight he told himself he could never be and the knight he’d once been. 

“Alright,” 

    George took a breath. Straightening his shoulders and looking like an echo of his father. The sun lighting behind him. Shadowing him against the map and making him look like a God towering over the Compass. 

    The only God that Dream would ever willingly believe and worship. The only God he’d give his life for. 

“We send word to the South. We find who did this.”

    The sun glowed brighter. George’s shadow on the map seemed darker. 

“We kill everyone involved.”

    They planned for hours. Working out what they wanted to say and where they would send it. With the status of the South at the moment they were looking for a way to do this without breaking any potential treaty that might be there. They didn’t know where the Southern Queen was still. The Southern crown still had yet to actually sign the end of the war. They still technically were in a fight and sending something to them could break the tentative hold they had. 

    At the same time, if this attack was the South in the first place then it didn’t even matter. They were going to need to fight and if it was some outsider then they needed the Compass to get together and put their differences aside for the safety of their entire realm. They had to fight for the lands the First Kings had. 

    The First Kings’ Pride. 

    The Compass. 

    Dream knew about the things that George saw when he’d grabbed onto James in the arena. Trying to get him to stop. He wasn’t sure how to explain half the things he saw on a day to day basis anymore. He wouldn’t call it magic. Just a science that he wasn’t sure how to explain. But there was a certain logic in the Stars having an energy that people could access depending on their blood. He could make sense of that. 

    He didn’t have another way to explain the fact that Francis had wings sometimes. That George was sick because he’d taken on more than he could handle in order to save James from the wealth of the Stars. 

    His lover had told him about the things he saw while he was inside. 

    The First King trapped in the Void. King Wil talking about the way his life had turned and become and how he was trying to guard them and watch out for them. He was trying to protect them. George had told him that the only reason he was alright after was because King Wil had protected him. 

    How much of that was really what it had seemed, he wasn’t sure. The one thing Dream knew was certain without a shadow of doubt in his heart was that if George told him something happened he would believe him. Fully and wholly if his lover told him there was something there, there was something there. If George told him he felt something, it was serious. If George told him there was a plan, even if he thought it was ridiculous, one word from his lover and Dream would be running like it was the only important thing. 

    Dream flexed his hands. Feeling the aches through his body that made him feel like he was an old man. His neck was killing him but he was swallowing it down. He could manage with it. It didn’t matter right now. The only thing that mattered was him standing strong. He could nurse his pain later. 

    The others didn’t need to see him hurt anymore. They had seen enough of that. He was failing them for each and every time he was in the infirmary rather than helping them to fight. For each time he made Sam lead rather than doing it himself. Right now Sam was hurt. His people needed a Lead and that was going to be him fighting for them all. 

    A whistle came sharp from the side. Half the heads in the room turned towards the arches by the thrones that lead out to the walls. Dream recognized the call almost immediately. Holding out his arm and giving a landing zone for his little parrot. Small, delicate, armor laying on it to not bar down its flight but also try to keep it safe from any arrows that might have been shot during the war. 

    Dream reached for his belt. Taking a small bit of seed and holding it up for the little thing to eat. 

    He didn’t see how Farfadox tensed across the table. 

“Hey Baby.”

“Is that?....”

    He looked up to see the helmet of the West’s Devil showing so much emotion that for a moment, Dream paused. 

“I guess you would have met back then, huh?”

“That’s the same….The one you called after Ro—”

“Yes.”

    He’d thought of it as Robin coming back to help him in his fights. One moment where he allowed himself to be selfish and believe in something he knew wasn’t real. Robin wasn’t there. He knew that. But there was part of him that just wanted to pretend for the sake of pretending. 

    He’d only slipped up once. In private for himself in the tent in the middle of the night. 

    It must have been a night that Farfa was sitting outside his tent listening for him. 

“I didn’t—”

    He looked like he was listening to something beside him. Fondness showing through his posture while Dream pet the head of his baby. It wasn’t carrying anything. Just came in to check most likely and see if they had something for it to take. 

“We still need info about the capital. See if we can find where the rogues might be hiding out?”

    Dream thought about the city layout. The streets. He was planning—

“Send Baby?”

    One look to Sam confirmed that he was talking about the little bird perched on his arm. Dream looked to it and thought it over. It had run recon for him the whole way through the war. The training wasn’t forgotten either. He knew that the bird had helped them get to the cave a year ago. 

    It could work. 

    A few words and a nudge and his little bird was stretching out it’s wings. Looking up to him and Dream let himself laugh a bit before he was placing a small kiss to its head. 

“Love you too, go get me info.”

    A chirp. Proud and happy. A response to his affection and order. And then it was flying away with its mission on its wings and Dream let his shoulders relax just a bit. 

    Just until he saw Sapnap approach the shadowed edge of the other arch. 

    His hair was a mess. His eyes were bloodshot. His hands and armor were covered in blood. His face was blotchy. 

“Sapnap.”

    Dream breathed his name. Abandoning the table and the talk they were having and racing over to his brother. He reached him in record time. His own body being ignored for the fact that Sapnap was shaking and looking like he barely knew where he was. 

“Are you hurt?”

“Huh?”

“Is the blood yours?”

    He needed to know how fast he had to get him to the infirmary. He needed to get him there regardless. He looked ready to drop on him and if he did Dream wasn’t sure he was going to be able to lift him back up right now. He could manage a lot but the way his neck felt and kept making his arms lose nearly all their strength he wasn’t sure he’d make it trying to carry his brother down the stairs to the other corner of the palace. 

    Sapnap was shaking his head. 

“It’s not—” He gagged. “It’s not mine. It’s—” Tears were welling in his eyes. George was hovering beside him. “I—I found Karl—”

    His stomach dropped. George had already flagged for a medic to come to get him. The distance in Sapnap’s eyes was worrying them all. 

“Is he alive?”

    Sapnap was crying.

“He was still standing. He was fighting with one of my old swords. He— He had it lit and when I found him he smiled at me— He nearly stabbed me, actually.” 

    He was rambling. He was trying to catch up to himself. 

“We were headed to his room so he could be safe and check his records. We were trying to guard them and we just—”

    Sapnap’s eyes found his. Staring at him with so much pain and terror and guilt. 

“I couldn’t see them, Dream. I couldn’t— I didn’t know they were there. We were running and fine and then I heard the arrow and then Karl was falling and he—”

“Where did it strike him?”

    Was he able to be saved?

“It went through his stomach.”

    He listened to his brother choke. Heaving breaths and hiccuped sobs. Dream pulled them close together. He didn’t care about the blood he knew was smearing onto himself. He felt Sapnap clinging to him in return. 

“I got him to the infirmary.”

“And then what?”

    Walking through it was sometimes the only way any of them knew how to cope with the things they went through. 

“They said he’s gonna live.”

“So he’s okay?”

“I couldn’t protect him.”

“You did what you could—”

“He said he was using my sword because it was like me. Because the fire— My fire— It was safe. It’s safe? Right? He— He had me and I wasn’t even there and he was safe. And then— Then he got me and he was shot and now he’s—”

    Dream held him tighter.

“He’s alive. He’s alive because you got him to help. Okay? Focus on that. Focus on breathing.”

    He had Sapnap now. He knew where he’d been. He knew where one of his brothers was. 

“Did you see Punz? Bad?”

    Sapnap nodded. Holding him and trying to get his breathing back under control. Forcing himself into the mind of the report rather than his panic and his shut down. It was fair. It was the way all of them tended to work. 

“He’s on the wall. He’s with Bad. They were getting the hanged knights down.”

    Dream nodded. He could see the medics coming in. He had to hand Sapnap off to them. His brother needed the help right now. He needed to be laying down and checked for himself because he didn’t have a single doubt that if there was something wrong with Karl he wouldn’t notice a wound to himself. Where there was one arrow there were usually more. Why would an archer shoot for a recorder and not a decorated knight? With an arrow scream they could have gotten through his armor. It didn’t make any sense. 

“Stay strong, okay? I’ll come see you later.”

    He needed his brother to know he wasn’t alone. Even as Dream handed him off and stepped back towards the table with George at his side. The two of them against the world even though he could see the rest of them swallowing the horror of death as they knew how bad it was. They were all dealing with the losses from this. They were all dealing with the wounds. 

    It felt like no sooner did they regather where they were going to discuss and send than there was a call of another bird. Different and lower pitched this time. The sound of a Northern Dove. Their messenger birds. Thicker feathers that allowed them to hold through the climate. Birds that weren’t used in war and were usually markers of peace. 

    George turned to hold out his arm for it. Waiting and knowing that the bird would be trained to go to a royal rather than anyone else. The crown on his head would be enough of a marker for him. 

    One bird. 

    One folded letter. 

    All of them let George stand to read it first. Watching him as he took in the information that covered it and seeing the way his face darkened on every word. 

    Only a moment and then Dream was looking over his shoulder to read it as well. He needed to know what was going on. To help explain and figure out a plan for them to work off of from this. It was the only option they were really going to have at this point. 

    But he saw the Northern seal. He saw Princess Hannah’s handwriting. 

    He felt his heart turn cold. 

“George?”

“Dream? What is it?”

“What’s it say?”

“Is it the North?”

    George answered them first. 

“They were attacked.”

    Hannah wrote about blood. She wrote about an attack that started in their capital and when the knights went out to defend and protect the rogues got into the palace. She described the same things they had had here. 

    How Oliver had fought. How he’d guarded her and other knights. How he’d—

“Oliver was run through.”

    The words tasted like ash on his tongue. Francis and Mason both left the hurt visible on their faces. 

“He’s,” Dream reread it again just to make sure. “He’s alive. She says he’s alive but he’s not doing well.”

    The words of his death. The fact that from what that rogue knew he must have believed it was nothing but true. That Oliver could be dead by now. That he could have already given in to his wounds. 

    Dream felt like his heart was being carved. 

    A year ago he didn’t even know the man’s name. Now he felt like he could be losing part of himself. 

“Their infirmary was destroyed. They don’t have the supplies they need to defend the wounded they have.”

“What do they need from us?”

    James was ready. Ready to help and ready to defend his friends. All of them were willing to help but George was setting the paper down. 

“Hannah and her father are bringing Oliver and others here. The most critical.”

“What about the Northern Queen?” Dream felt himself start to fidget with his hands the moment he realized where Sam was headed in his question. “Isn’t it a risk to leave her in the palace alone? One royal is bound to be an easy target and if they take the palace then—”

“The Northern Queen is dead.”

    George said it like he didn’t know the woman. Like he didn’t act like a son to her and she wasn’t another mother. Like he and Hannah didn’t spend winters together out in the snow and teaching each other tricks. Just being people together. Like she wasn’t part of his family. 

“She was killed in the attack.”

“How?”

    Dream bit the inside of his cheek. George’s voice held nothing but disdain. 

“An armor piercing arrow. Straight through her heart. She’d been in her bed. They killed her laying down.”

    Once again the throne room fell silent. All of them thinking over the things they were about to be facing off against. Waiting for the next thing to go wrong and thinking about everything that already had. 

    The North was confirmed then. All of them. All but the South so far. 

    All that they knew of. 

    Dream tried to hold onto to the fact that Hannah had written that Oliver was still alive. That at least there was that. They’d gotten him potions in time or something that had managed to save his life. As long as the rat kept fighting and made it here they could work to make sure he stayed breathing. Force him to not be an idiot for once in his life and actually keep him alive. 

    The North Dove sat on the table now. Waiting for the next orders or the response it would have to carry back. He wondered if the bird even knew what it had been carrying. The importance of the paper it held. He wondered if it knew that it was just a little too late for them to be able to be saved by Hannah’s warning. 

    And then they heard another bird. 

    The shrill sound of a falcon before the bird came flying in. Something wrapped in its talons. It looked almost like a small box. Dark and wrapped in what looked like wet cloth. He couldn’t tell if it was an animal. The bird didn’t seem to have a landing in place so he wasn’t sure that it was actually a message bird or not. He knew the West sometimes used them but from the look on Mason’s face he could guess that this wasn’t one of theirs no matter the case. 

    Dream reached for it. Trying to get the bird’s attention so that he could try to bring the item down. So that he could look at it. So he could figure out what was going on if the bird was being trained and had attacked a rogue and brought them back the proof. 

    He reached. 

    In seconds there was a blur of another bird. Slamming against the falcon and going against it. Feathers and shrieking. Almost all of them stepped away from the table. Dream watched. Trying to figure out what was going on before he realized what the other bird was. 

    His bird. 

    His little parrot. 

    His Baby bird he’d sent out. 

    If his bird was back and it was fighting the falcon for the item in its talons then there was a reason for it. There was something going on. Something that was enough for him to tell everyone to get away from the fight. Away from the other bird. 

    Dream put himself between the fight and George. 

    He was watching the birds. Trying to figure out what it was that they had before he felt the ground shake under his feet. The booms reached his ears second. 

    Shaking and shattering through the silence and the stillness the capital city had been holding. The blastings of horns that started from the capital before they were echoing once more through the palace itself. The yard. The knights. 

    All the pain they’d all gone through and it wasn’t enough. 

    Another fucking fight. 

    Dream saw the smoke that was rising up in the distance. He felt the shakes enough from the explosions that the chandeliers in the throne room rocked like they were at sea on the ceiling. Francis had Sam. They were all up and on edge. They were all getting ready for the fight that was coming for them. 

    They knew it was coming for them. 

    Bombs in the capital. 

    Bombs through their city where none of them were able to stop it. 

    Bombs where—

    Dream’s blood turned to ice. 

    Whipping his head back around to look at the birds again he felt his heart hammer against his ribs. Looking closer towards the small thing wrapped in cloth the falcon carried. He saw it strapped to the bird. He saw the way the bird was trying to get it off. 

    Attacking his parrot in desperation more than aggression. 

    The falcon was scared. 

    His parrot was trying to save it. 

    More explosions rocked the palace. Shaking all of them and making people lose their balance. He could hear the fighting already. The screaming. The knights were battling again. There was smoke in the air. Flooding through and making it feel like it was going to suffocate all of them inside of their own lungs. They didn’t have a chance to get away. 

    If the South was already taken then this was the Compass’ final stand. 

    They had to fight like it was their final stand. 

    Dream took a step towards the birds. He tried to see the item they had. 

    He watched as his parrot pulled on the cloth. Unwrapping just enough that Dream saw a glimpse of the inside. Of redstone. 

    Of gunpowder. 

“Get away!”

    He was going to be too late again. 

“Everyone down!”

    He knew what a bomb looked like. 

    Dream was turning. All of them were running. 

    They weren’t going to make it. 

    Dream jumped. 

    Grabbing onto George and throwing them both down to the ground. Using his body to shield and protect his Prince. The job of a knight. 

    The duties he’d had since he was eight and chosen for the job. Dream knew that he was going to give his life for George one day. He knew that he would do anything in his power in order to make sure his lover was safe forever. 

    He didn’t regret it. 

    The explosion behind them felt deafening. The heat swallowing them all like it was a beast. 

    His vision going white. 

    Tinting red. 

    Burning. 

    Bleeding. 

    Before it flickered and melted into black. 

Chapter Text

    Ringing. 

    So loud Dream felt like his ears were bleeding. The air around him hurt. Singing and scalding the insides of his lungs until he was coughing and choking. He ignored that he tasted blood by the fact. Reaching blindly for his belt and pulling one of the vials of healing potion that he’d restocked on between attacks. He flipped the lid from the top and brought it to his mouth. 

    Arm shaking. Ribs screaming. Neck cracking and moving as he tried to turn his head to drink. His lungs were collapsing. His legs were pinned. 

    With the potion emptied in his mouth he forced himself to swallow. Feeling it rush through him and immediately going to get the secondary one he’d tucked away. 

    Dream was moving. 

    Pushing himself up despite the pull he felt through him as his body tried to adjust to what he’d just been through. The heat was suffocating them. He knew all too well the feeling of the body beneath him. 

“George?”

    He couldn’t feel him moving. He saw blood beneath them. His or George’s he wasn’t sure. 

“George?”

    Dream dragged his legs forward. Detangling them from the pieces of pillar that had fallen. He was lucky that it caught on something else. That it hadn’t crushed him and flattened his limbs into the ground. He was still able to move. The healing potion was enough for him. 

    Pushing himself to move and forcing his body to work, Dream got his hands and knees beneath him. He pulled himself away from George. Feeling the pull of his armor over his back like there was something stuck to it. He didn’t have time to check. Not when George took priority. 

“George? Can you hear me?”

    His head was splitting open. Pounding and pulsing and feeling almost like he was melting out of his ears with the way they were still ringing. It reminded him of the beast that had been made out of Cornelius. The way he’d been left on the ground and feeling like his body was falling apart inside of his armor. He’d felt his ears ringing then as well. He hadn’t been able to hear until the potions were applied to his ears. 

“George?”

    His own voice was muffled. He couldn’t really hear. The world felt too muted around him but he could still fight this. He could work with this. It wasn’t completely gone and for that he could still manage in the fight. He didn’t need there to be more. 

    He did. It was a liability and a risk and if his squires said the things he was thinking right now he’d sit them down for a lecture. He didn’t want them to be in pain. He didn’t want them to wind up dead. Fighting without a sense was much harder than normally fighting. If they were in the range of something like that they needed to sit to the side unless there was no other choice. 

    They’d get themselves killed. 

    Dream would manage. 

    As the Lead he wasn’t allowed to sit to the side. He had to be fighting. He had to do better. He always had to do better. He was never going to be enough. 

    Dream felt the heat on his face. Burning into his right eye and he blinked. Breathing and turning his head feeling the way his neck pulled when he did. The haze was smoke and dust. Not his vision. He was fine. 

    He was fine so why was he—

    His hand hit something that wasn’t pillar. Instead, Dream looked down and saw a broken portion of his mask. Snapped off and laying there beside George like a marker. 

    He could deal with it later. 

    Right now he needed George to give him a sign. 

“Please,” It echoed to his King and Queen earlier on the walk. “George, wake up.”

    He needed him. He couldn’t do this without him. He wouldn’t. 

“Come on.”

    Dream tore off his glove. Pulling it fast and ignoring the way the leather caught over his fingers. Not even a second passed before he was pressing his fingers to the side of George’s throat. Feeling and waiting and begging himself silently for there to be something beneath his fingers. 

    A thump. 

    He repositioned. He held his breath. 

    George coughed. 

    Dream moved immediately. Changing his grip and trying to clear his lover from the rubble. He didn’t see anything broken. He didn’t see anything cutting into him. Scrapes here and there but he looked alright. 

“Stay still.”

    It was better to be safe than be sorry in a situation like this. 

    Too many times out in the field of battle Dream had watched knights die because they didn’t allow themselves time to assess. In the fight there wasn’t the time for it. Right now they didn’t even really have the time for it. He still wasn’t going to be backing down. He wouldn’t be letting anyone near George until he knew for sure that he was alright to be moving. He wouldn’t allow the risk. 

    The people he’d seen up and moving and talking only to see them being covered with a sheet moments later. Internal wounds. Blood that flooded their organs and brought them to the ground. Coughing and choking and gagging. A feeling Dream himself had felt too many times. The crushing feeling that went through all of his being. 

    He wouldn’t let his lover experience that. 

“Drink this.”

    The faster he got a potion the better chances he had. The longer they would wait for something to fix him if there was damage the higher chances for it to be something they weren’t able to fix. If he was going to do his job and protect him then he had to be on top of things right now. 

    He guided George to the potion. Tilting it for him and running his hands along him. He didn’t feel anything broken. He seemed to be alright. 

    He was still coughing. 

    Until he was finished with the potion and Dream was letting him up again he tried to keep his mind running. Focusing on the tasks at hand and not stressing himself about the other things that he knew were coming for them all. He knew that the attack was bad. The bombs he could start to make out that were still going off in the capital. The fighting he knew was happening all around them. The knights were going to be pulled thin. They were going to need a command and they were going to be fighting for the sake of everyone right now. 

    Everyone. 

“Can you stand? Are you alright?”

    George nodded. Looking down at himself and testing his limits of motion. Everything that he should be doing while Dream hovered ready to help him at a moment’s need. He was worried about him. He didn’t want him to be hurt. He just wanted him to be safe. 

“George?”

    Were his ears worse than he thought they were?

“I’m okay.”

    Shaken. Scared. Sorting himself so that his anger could come out to lead rather than the adrenaline. It was the better course of action. Anger tended to be the smarter of the two. It wasn’t the smartest. But something was better than nothing and Dream could keep himself level until they made it out of this alive. 

    They were going to make it out of this alive. 

“Your mask.”

    He’d forgotten about it. In just those moments he’d pushed it so far out of his thoughts that he’d barely even registered it was broken again. One glance down and he confirmed that the snapped away piece was still laying there. One look and he knew that portion of his childhood and the safety he’d hidden behind for decades was gone now. 

    He could fix it. 

    He didn’t think he should. 

“I know.”

    George’s fingers grazed his cheek. Exposed to the air despite the strap he could still feel around the back of his head. It was a comfort and a calling all in one. Something that he knew he would have flinched from even just a week ago. 

    He couldn’t afford that now. He had to be in control now. 

    They needed him. All of them needed him. 

    He would be better for them. 

    Dream listened as the ringing began to fade from his head. The sounds of the room filling in the silence after. The settling of the stone and rubble around them. The clattering from outside in the yard. The warzone their home had been turned into. 

“George,” 

    His lover pushed against his skin. 

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.”

“You should have drank a potion yourself.”

    He had. If the wound was still there then that meant that there was enough else wrong with him that the potion wasn’t able to get to it right now. That his resource was being directed to the rest of him. To the larger damage. 

    They heard motion in the room. The shift of rubble and the sounds of coughs. 

“The others.”

    Sam, Mason, Francis, Farfa, James. They’d all been in here together when the bomb went off. They’d all been around the table. 

    Sam had been hurt. 

    Sam had been shot in the leg. 

    Sam wasn’t able to run. 

“Sam!”

    The smoke caught in his lungs. Making him hitch and heave for a moment while he struggled not to cough. Choking back the wheeze he wanted to give as he felt the pressure in his chest settling. Back in the cave he’d felt this. In the basement of his childhood house he’d felt it. 

    Not now. 

    He couldn’t afford this now. 

“Sam!”

    Attackers would hear him if they were in the palace. Now. They needed to get to the infirmary. They had to make sure all of them were alright but right now he had to focus on the people in front of him. 

    Not his King. 

    Don’t worry about his King. Don’t worry about any of the others. The wounded and injured that were all centered into one place without the others there to guard them. The people that were sitting ducks and waiting targets. The people that, if this attacker was truly as smart as Dream was believing they were, would have been bombed as well. 

    He couldn’t. Not right now. 

    Don’t think about them right now. 

    Worry about what he can change. 

    Like in the war with the East. He’d kept himself in the fighting and the battles he was in. He didn’t allow for his mind to wonder without him and he’d pushed himself until he was standing tall with the people protected behind him. He didn’t let himself think about Punz and Sapnap then. Not in the battle. Not in the war. He didn’t think about his brothers and the facts that they could be dying. The palace and that if spies got around him and his army they could make it to the palace and kill everyone inside. That George could be hurt. 

    Dream just fought. 

    He’d do it again. 

“Sam!”

    Getting himself to stand was relatively simple given the fact that he’d just brunted an explosion. He searched the room for the signs of the others. 

    He saw Francis and James. 

    Saw Fran’s wings out and wrapped around his crown. They were safe. Protected and guarded. They were okay. Roughed up but from the nod Francis gave to him he knew they were fine. 

    Farfadox was hovering over Mason. Helping him to sit up and guiding a potion up to his mouth. He ignored that he saw the thrown off rubble and the fact that Mason’s foot looked nearly flattened. A quick glance to the potion and he knew the color of regeneration when he saw it. 

    George used him as a crutch. Pulling himself up beside him and shifting as his body adjusted. The center of the room was nearly destroyed. The thrones looked untouched. George was holding onto him for support. 

    Dream held him back. 

“Sam! Come on.”

    He wasn’t leaving this room without his knight.

“Here.”

    He was moving the moment he heard the call. His knight sounded strained. Movement was coming now from a pile of rubble where the pillar had cracked apart at the top and fallen. Shattered pieces of wood from the table. 

    Dream dug. 

    Gripping pieces and moving them out of the way while George worked to help him on the task. He could see the others getting themselves standing. He could see them watching. Dream kept working. 

    Going until he was seeing a large chunk of the table top and starting to move it away. Sam showing up behind it. 

“It was a shield. I’m okay.”

    He wasn’t. Dream could smell the blood. He could see it running down Sam’s head. He saw it soaking his thigh and starting to puddle beneath him. The wound from the arrow. The mark that was left. 

    Sam saw it too. 

“Ponk’s going to be so mad.”

    He would. The medic was always the pickiest about any of them tearing their stitches. Sam was the one he had the worst filter with. He was going to tear him into a new lifetime for ripping stitches not even a half day old. 

    He didn’t have any more potions to use. He didn’t want to give Sam a regen and have it be the wrong thing when he knew he’d been treated not long ago. Dream knew first hand how bad the consequences could be if potions were mixed up. He knew what it could do to someone. He’d heard the stories of what happened to him when he was too delirious to remember. 

“We need to get you to the infirmary.”

    Check on the others. Defend the others. Their King and Queen were down there. They were going to be screwed. They were going to get killed and there wasn’t going to be anything that they could do to stop it. They were going to—

“Can you stand?”

    Focus on what he could handle. Focus on the things in front of him. The needs he could change. The people he could help. 

    Deal with the rest of it later. 

    Trust the others to be working. Trust them to protect themselves. To not let the enemy win against them that easily. 

“Worry about the others.”

“The others are all standing.”

    Farfa was holding Mason up. He was going to need the infirmary as well. They all should be in the infirmary. Right now though it was going to be flooded and he didn’t have the time to be dealing with that. His people didn’t have the time for him to be laying around and being dotted on. 

    He had work to do. 

    He had to be fighting for them. Protecting them. He had to be the knight that all of them told stories about and respected. 

    He couldn’t let it go that that man had died in the cave. 

    Dream was still that man. 

“You’re the worst one off right now, Old Man.”

    Using the nickname right now would help to keep him calm. He could think about this logically. He could run it through his head. He was just with his knight. His Prince. 

    Their people were screaming beyond the walls. 

“Can you stand?”

    Ask again. Maybe this time his knight will actually answer him and they’ll figure out a way out of this.

“Not alone.”

    It was bad then. 

    Dream had learned his way how to tell and assess a wound from Sam. Countless nights of lectures after he’d found out that he was hiding things and working through things that no one else could. The nights where Dream was telling his knight about the things of his home and Sam was swearing to the Gods that he would murder if ever faced against his father. 

    Dream had the habit of working through things that were worse than he believed. He had the habits that he would force himself into working because he knew he had to be doing more. Until he was what others would call impossible he kept himself working. Fighting. Sam was the one who had taught him limits. He was the one who worked with him to figure out where their lines were. 

    Sam gave him a rule. 

    That if it was something he could walk off, Dream could walk it off. If it was something Sam would get attention for, Dream would get attention. 

    Sam was just as stubborn as he was when it came to the infirmary. 

    If he was admitting that he couldn’t stand alone then Dream had missed something when looking him over. He was missing something wrong with his knight. 

    What a failure of a squire he was. 

“Farfa, Mason. Are you two good?”

    They were nodding. Mason was doing a shit job of hiding his pain but he was coherent and that was good enough for him right now. Francis shifted. He knew he caught the change in his voice. He felt George move a little closer. He had as well. 

    Turning towards his lover, Dream swallowed and lowered his voice. Bringing it down so that no one else, not even Sam, would be able to hear him. 

“Help Sam to the infirmary.”

“What?”

    George was going to fight him.

“Go with Farfa and Mason. Get Sam to the infirmary. Stay with your parents.”

“Dream—”

“Please, Love.”

    The others were watching them. 

“I need you.”

“Come with me.”

    Their people were screaming. Their knights were fighting. Their home was burning. 

“I can’t.”

    They both knew that. 

“You could be hurt.”

“I have you to come back to.”

    A echo of their old words. Broken and abused. 

“I will come back.”

“You can’t hide this time, Dream.”

    His broken mask. 

“If you fight like this then—”

“I’ll let them see.”

    The screams were so loud. 

“I have to fight.”

    He was their Leading Knight. He was the one that they looked to when things went wrong. He was the man that was the idol to so many children through the city. He was the person they looked for when the world turned itself upside down and right now he was standing still in the palace while their city suffered. 

“I should fight with you.”

    If he told George no they’d be there even longer. 

“Get them safe and then you can.”

    Duty. 

    The only distraction that would work on people like them. 

    Dream shifted. He felt the metal catch on his back. He heard Francis gasp behind him. 

    He didn’t dare to check why. 

“Come back.”

“I always do.”

    Not as a dead man. Alive. Still the same. The same fighter. Same heart. He was still him. 

“Lead.”

    Dream nodded to him as George pulled away. Watching the Prince and Acting King of his nation reach to help Sam. Pulling an arm around him and moving to guide him up to stand. Watching the blood of his knight as he stood. 

    Dream stepped away. 

    Turning to the others and putting a hand on the sword at his hip. 

“Farfa, Mason,” He didn’t call him King. One of Mason’s rules he’d placed quickly. Those of them that knew him before called him as they did before. “Get to the infirmary. George and Sam are going with you. Get down there and protect it. Don’t let our injured be attacked.”

    Farfa’s nod was low. Almost like he was bowing to him. For a moment Dream thought he could feel the pride coming from his old friend. Pride that he was still the leader he’d been before. Dream felt his heart beat hard in his chest. 

“Francis, James.” He was ordering a royal. One he hadn’t known before. One he— “Protect the palace and the yard. Help the knights where you can and organize them. We need our home secure.”

    They took the order immediately. The fight shining in both of their eyes. Francis was already running through what he would be needing to do. Dream could see the calculations of the fight already through his eyes. 

“What about you?”

    His knight. Sam, watching him with muted pride and still all the concern that a parent should. 

“I’m going to take back our city.”

    He looked to Francis. 

“I’m going to show the rogues why I was the man called Death.”

    Breathe in the smoke. 

    At this rate Dream was going to start making jokes that he breathed more battle smoke than he did actual air. His lungs weren’t going to be thanking him for it as his life went on but he had to make sure his life was going to continue on first. 

    The pattern of a fight. 

    Something that he was so routine with one would think that it would grow boring. Settling into the patterns he’s practiced into himself since childhood. He was ten when he was allowed to start his combat training officially and take the lessons he’d read and learned about and apply them himself. 

    Dream had been anything but a prodigy. 

    It wasn’t until he’d worked himself into becoming the best of the best that he’d started getting that title. Racing and fighting. Running the laps around the palace and running the walls for his punishments. 

    It was grueling. 

    Dream would trade it all to do that again instead of feeling the blood splash down the length of his sword and onto his wrists like he was now. 

    Dream was a killer. Bloodstained in woe and regret. He was the fighter that was looked to the most out of any attack. 

    If they were having their hard hitters being struck then Dream should be shot just like all the others. He should be killed. Put down like nothing but a dog—

    Dream turned. Slashing fast with his sword and feeling the weight balance him as he carried through the strike. He watched the head detach from the body. 

    The golden glow of the sunset and the blaze of the fires. Roofs and buildings around him burning as the explosions went off. People were running. They were screaming. 

    Dream directed them when he could. 

    There were more rogues. 

    A small army. 

    Dream was more than them. 

    He kept himself breathing. Forcing himself through the battle as he had every other time before. Step by step and swing by swing. He was the powerhouse that wasn’t able to be touched in the war against the East and he would prove that he was still that very same man.

    The West didn’t break him. 

    He refused to have let the West break him. 

    Parker and his stain had died with him in the arena. He was not allowed to have any more mark on his body. 

    Despite his scars, despite the pain, despite the nightmares and the days he felt like he was back in those damned cells. 

    Dream was not broken. 

    He was not the monster that Parker tried to make him believe he was. He was stronger than him. He was fighting against him. 

    He was better. 

    Dream turned quick. Pivoting on his heel and driving his blade through the ribs of a rogue that was trying to sneak up behind him. It was clever, bold, he would give them that. It wasn’t a strike most people would try to perform on him. Not now. Not here. Dream killed them fast. 

    He killed them without mercy. 

    He pulled his blade. One flick and the blood that was slowing it was falling away. Flinging to the ground. Splashing towards him. 

    He heard the sound of boots. He turned and slashed. 

    Another throat. 

    Blood splashing over him as the arteries cut and Dream found himself blinking blood out of his exposed eye. 

    He didn’t have time. 

    He had to keep fighting. 

    Now was the fight that he was proving to everyone in the nation that he was still the capable knight they knew. He was still the man that could and would protect them. He was still the person that was nearly unbeatable in a fight. 

    He could prove to them now that he wasn’t a failure. 

    That he wasn’t broken. 

    All the nights he’d spent as a squire trying to prove to himself and to Sam and the others that he wasn’t a mistake to choose. Trying to prove to his Prince that he could amount to something and he wouldn’t be a failure. 

    All the things his father had drilled into him since he was a young boy and Dream had fought against it then. He’d never stopped fighting. 

    He’d thought he was safe to recover. He thought he was alright when he was lying weak in the bed. He thought it was okay that he struggled to stand and lost his focus easier than he had before. That his chest hurt. That his head hurt. That his leg and his side and his—

    He hooked his blade beneath their sternum. Pushing up fast and hard until the tip of the sword was sticking out from the hollow of their throat. 

    Dream kept breathing. 

    His heart matching time to the falls of his feet as he moved around the city streets. Hovering close to the main road so that he would be near the palace if something happened but he watched his knights moving in and out. Taking his orders and demands as he directed them to fan out through the city and defend their people. It was the only option they had if they wanted to make it through this right now. 

    If they wanted to survive through the night without losing their capital city. 

    Central was the heart of the Compass. The capital was the heart of Central. 

    The royals were the heart of the heart. 

    Dream pushed away the thought of George lying dead and slaughtered on the floor of the infirmary. 

    He felt himself covering in blood. The ash and dirt and soot coating him and covering his skin. Flooding the insides of his lungs and making him want to choke and suffocate inside his own body. He watched the bodies dropping all around him. The knights section to put out the fires more and more. The sounds of the fighting beginning to fade. 

    The screams turning down into sobs. 

    Dream breathed. 

    Holding the hilt of his sword tight enough in his hand that he thought it might bruise through the glove he was still wearing. The wind grazing across the scars on his free one. His shoulders were moving with each and every breath he gave but he didn’t dare to let himself drop. He wouldn’t show the way he was feeling. He wouldn’t show his people weakness. 

    Breathe. 

    Keep steady. 

    Push forward. 

    Stay standing. 

    If he collapsed right now that would be one of the worst things he could do. He would prove to all of them that his fighting wasn’t without a consequence. He would show them all that he was weak now. That the man that had walked off battles wasn’t able to anymore. That he’d failed them. 

    He’d failed to make it on time to protect them and he couldn’t even do that without recovery time. 

    Pathetic. 

    Dream let his heart race. Pushing adrenaline through him as he stood and breathed. Feeling the ache in his body that told him his muscles were stretched and ready. He was going to have a rather violent adrenaline crash if he knew himself well still but if he had it his way that wouldn’t happen until he was alone behind a closed and locked door. There wouldn’t be a witness for it. 

    He could feel the blood dripping down his armor. Coating him and covering him and he was sure that if George were to see him he would be disgusted to have to touch him. Old fears came racing back to the front of his mind. Signing the word monster along his every thought until he was forcing them back. 

    This was what was needed of him. 

    This was what was wanted of him. 

    This. Not the human he’d been trying to learn to be. 

    This is what his son needed of him. 

“Sir.”

    He turned. One of his knights standing strong with a group of civilians with them. The people looked scared. Staring at him and taking in the blood all over him. 

    Only after one of them looked away from his gaze did he remember they could see a portion of his face. They could see him while he killed. They could see him while he fought. 

“Their houses are burned. They need refuge.”

    His mouth felt dry. Tongue glued to the roof of his mouth and cutting off all his words before he could even begin them. 

    He forced himself to nod toward the palace gates. Scraping his tongue on his teeth to make it move and work. 

“Take them inside. Prince George will designate the spot for you. Just get them inside and make sure they’re all safe.”

    His knight nodded to him. Dream felt his hands wanting to shake. 

    Keep breathing. Keep focused. Keep standing. 

“Sir!”

    Another turn. Another knight.

“We’re searching the city for any others. The attack is over.”

“Don’t say it’s over till we know it.”

    He’d seen that too many times as well. The fighting looking like it was over for the night only for a camp to be slaughtered because they let their guard down. He wasn’t about to let more people die. He wasn’t about to see them fall when it was something they could have avoided. 

    Carelessness. He wouldn’t allow it. 

“We’re searching. Where do you want the dead?”

    The whole city would have them. The normal routes for them would be flooded. 

“Place the bodies in the town meeting points. Let their families claim them. They make the choices from there.”

    His head hurt. His chest. His back. His leg. His side. 

    He was getting old. 

    He was getting weak. 

    Pathetic. 

“Dream!”

    The rushing sound of steps toward him had gripping his sword all the tighter. Instinct demanding he turn faster and drive the blade through the body before there was a chance to get close. His mind screamed for him to stop. To understand the fact that his name had been called out. 

    That he knew the voice. 

    That he knew the steps. 

    He had to stop. 

    He had to stop. 

    Stop—

“Woah.”

    The blade stopped an inch from Tommy’s neck. 

    Blood rushing in his ears while he stood and stared at the blade that he himself was wielding. For a moment Dream didn’t let himself move. Willing his heart to simply stop for what he’d nearly just done. He could see the line of fear in Tommy’s eyes. The way he was looking at him. 

    The moment he found his eye. 

“Dream?”

    His air left him. 

    Almost immediately Dream was sagging down and nearly dropping his blade. Reaching out before he stopped himself from that as well. 

    All the blood that was on him. All the gore. He didn’t want to stain his squire with any more of that than he already had. It would be another thing to add to the list of his failures and right now Dream didn’t think he was able to stomach more of that. 

“Are you alright?”

    Tommy nodded. Keeping an eye on the blade before looking around and checking the rest of the area. 

“Are you?”

    He wouldn’t be allowed to say no.

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Cause I saw the throne room and the blood that was in there tells me different.”

    Dream squinted at his squire. Staring him up and down and seeing the marks of a fight on him as well. He’d been fighting again. He’d had to do it on his own.

“I’m good.” He didn’t know that. “How are the others?”

    If Tommy was coming out to find him right now then it was for good reason. It was because he had information or a question or something of the sort. He wouldn’t have just come out to find him in the middle of this for a social time. He wouldn’t be out here just to spend time with him. 

    Tommy didn’t do that anymore. 

    His squire once attached at his hip could barely stand being in the same room as him. 

“They’re alright. The rogues got into the yard but not the palace. Francis is doing a check right now and the East knights have things on a pretty good lock down.”

“And the infirmary?”

“They’re all safe.”

    Dream breathed. Air starting to feel like air again. The scent of ash and blood thick at the back of his tongue. 

“What are you doing out here?”

“I wanted to check on you.”

    He didn’t believe him. 

“I’m fine, Toms. Just doing my job.”

    He was still capable. The fact that his squire didn’t believe he could hold his own in a fight and would need to be babysat hurt him a little more than he thought it would. 

“I know that—”

“You should get back inside.”

“Dream.” His squire was glaring. Tommy’s eyes putting daggers right into his one visible one. “I just figured out I had you again. I leave, bombs go off. I go in and you’re all gone and there’s blood on the floor. So sorry I thought I was going to lose you again.”

    Injury. 

    An injury would be a loss of him as a person. One more mistake and his squire would count him as dead. One more stupid mistake and he would be worthless. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Just tell me that none of the blood on you is yours.”

    He wasn’t positive about that. 

“It’s not mine.”

    Tommy didn’t look convinced. 

“And nothing hurts?” Everything hurt. “Nothing’s broken?”

    Dream sighed. 

“I’m fine. Get back inside. Help the others.”

    Tommy was about to go too. He could see it in his eyes. He was going to turn and leave back towards the palace and he’d be safe and sound inside. He’d be protected from everything and Dream would be able to focus. 

    Until it was Dream that turned away first. 

Showing his back to his squire and practically feeling the way Tommy froze on spot. 

“Holy shit, Dream.”

“What?”

    Turning back around he saw the way he was being stared at. The vague sickness that was covering his face. 

“Tommy? What is it?”

    He stayed silent. Looking him up and down and this time there was something unreadable in his eyes. One look behind him and Dream could see the people in the palace walls watching him too. Horror showing in all of their eyes as they all stared him down. 

    Dream felt sick. 

“Tom—”

“The fuck happened in the throne room?”

“Bombs—”

“Dream there are wings on your back.”

    His heart stuttered. Once again he felt himself at a loss for words as he looked to the others. Seeing the way they were looking at him and shifting his shoulder blades as carefully as he could. 

    His armor was sticking. He didn’t feel off balance. Not wings like Francis. Not wings like that. 

    Instead, Dream looked down. Seeing a feather on the ground and another one falling as he shifted. He wished he didn’t recognize it for what it was. He wished he didn’t know immediately what he was looking at and that the confirmation wasn’t drilled so far into his head. 

    He wished he didn’t know. 

    He wished he could still pretend. 

    Bending down to pick it up. Holding it in his hands. Knowing that it’ll be the closest he gets to holding it again. 

    A parrot feather. 

    His Baby’s feather. 

    Dream forced himself to breathe. Drawing it in slowly and swallowing back the bile at the knowledge that his little bird was plastered along the back of his armor. That he was wearing it like he was some kind of grotesque fallen angel of Central. 

    He breathed. 

“Tommy, go inside, please.”

    His voice must have held the warning in it. His squire nodding before backing away and going toward the palace. The others watching took the hint as well. They turned. They left him to rot in what he’d done. 

    The life that had dedicated to him and Dream had failed to protect. Another person he lost. Another person he failed. He held the feather. A knight stained in his own bloodshed. 

    In his regret and woe. 

    And not a single tear left. 

Chapter Text

    Dream did everything he could to ignore what he knew now was on his back. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about the bird that had been his partner during the war with the East. How his baby had been his companion in the cave and saved him when it led the others back to where he was being held. When it was guarding and sending information to and from the soldiers and the palace in the war with the West. 

    His bird. 

    Suffering and hurting and still flying and chirping like it held the sun. 

    The bird that reminded him so strongly of his first squire that Dream was feeling his heart shatter with each time he felt his armor pull over his back. 

    He knew now that it was the flesh. The feathers and the blood that had borderline melted into the seams of his armor. He’d need to deal with that sooner rather than later but right now he just needed to make sure that the people he cared about were safe. 

    He needed to be in charge of things out here. He had to be protecting everyone. 

    He was the Lead. 

    This was his job. 

    Person after person Dream was directing them to where they needed to focus their attentions. He was getting them sent back into the city to make sure there were no bombs that were lying in wait. He was making sure that the people were being taken care of and that their hospitals were secure. That supplies were being given where they could and that they were being helped. 

    He made sure the knights were doing a headcount. He was trying to make sure his family was safe. 

    He was hoping they were all safe. 

    George would be coming out to meet him here soon. He’d be able to tell him about what was going on inside the palace. As of right now no one that was going in or out was acting like there was a problem with their royals. They were just trusting and listening and following their orders. 

    George and his parents were fine. 

    All of them were fine.

    If he stopped telling himself that he might just break down. 

    He was ignoring the pain that was lighting through his neck. Pulling at him and making him want to close his eyes and lower to the grass and just try to sleep. He could feel it twisting his stomach into knots or maybe that was just the worry. Each time he breathed he felt his back crack. 

    He needed to lay down. 

    He balled his hands into fists and kept himself working. 

“Sir Dream!”

    He took a breath. Turning and looking for the knight that called out his name.  He thought it was going to be someone asking about supplies or directions for where they were placing something but instead he saw the tense in how they were moving. Angel wings engraved on the sides of the helmet. Webbed through in what Dream knew was a marker to the God of Stories, not XD. A clever detail for someone in Central. 

“What is it?”

“Sir Punz.” Dream felt his blood run cold. “He was on the wall before the attack and we couldn’t find him but then we saw the rope—”

    He was already running before the sentence was done. 

    No. 

    This couldn’t be happening. 

    All they’d been through. All the things they’d said and done. All the people they’ve lost and loved together. 

    Dream couldn’t lose him too. 

    All of his pain was ignored for the sake of getting there faster. He needed to be able to help. To see that he wasn’t too late and that his brother could be saved. That things were okay. That he was alright. 

    That Dream wouldn’t bury someone else.

    He saw the bodies hanging. He saw the white of Punz’s hood. He saw his body unmoving and being dragged to the top. 

    Dream ran. 

    Pushing through the burning in his lungs and taking the stairs in the wall’s turret nearly three at a time to make it up to him faster. When he reached the level he saw medics already up there. He saw them swarming and working. 

    They wouldn’t be working over a corpse. 

“Punz?”

    He was being held back immediately. A knight with roses engraved on the metal around their wrist. Immediately Dream was remembering his titles. The things that were taught of him. Of flowers. Of years ago now when he and Punz were talking about them and his brother had joked about his rose title meaning the people thought he was attractive. That it explained why he was hit on all the time. Dream had denied it. They’d laughed. 

    He wondered if they would laugh together again. 

“Let me go.”

“The medics are working—”

“I said let me go—”

“Sir—”

“That’s an order!”

    They let him go. Dream moved forward. 

    He saw Punz on the ground. He saw potions being fed into his mouth. He watched his brother cough on the stone. 

    Alive. 

    Punz was still alive. 

    Relief was too weak of a word. The medics were loading him onto a stretcher. Listening to his brother when Punz cried out as they jostled his leg. He was alive. He was breathing and that was what mattered. That was all that mattered. That—

“Bad—”

    Dream froze. His heart catching once again in his chest as he looked around. 

    He didn’t see Bad. 

“Get Bad—”

“Sir Punz he isn’t up here.”

“He was with me— They pushed him— He was up here—”

    Dream swallowed. 

    He’d love to say that Punz was delirious. That it was just because of the potions being pumped through his system right now and the pain and the blood that had gone to his head from hanging off the wall. He’d love to say that he was just out of it and confused. 

    Sapnap had told him that Bad and Punz were together. 

    Bad had been here. 

    He wouldn’t have left Punz to hang. He would have protected him. Bad had helped in raising them. They joked that he was the mom for their group. Always watching out for all of them and keeping them safe. Bad was their parent as much as Sam was. 

“He was up here— He needs help—”

“Sir Punz, he’s not—”

“He fell.”

    There was so much pain in his voice. So much heartache and grief. Dream felt his own rushing up to match. Pain bubbling alongside and hurting him. Aching in him. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t leave this. 

“He fell you have to get him. You have to help him too— You have to—”

    The medic was injecting him. Dream could see the purple tint of the weakness potion. He felt anger licking at his heart. 

“What are you doing?”

    The medics paused. Looking up to see him. Covered in blood. Standing over them like he was a marker of death. Lording over them with the reminder of why he was titled the way he was. The blood that he could feel still clotting him. The flesh that was mangled and caught on his armor. 

“We had to calm him down—”

“You aren’t listening to him.”

“He’s not talking sense.”

“You don’t get to make that decision.”

    Punz was already passed out. On the stretcher between them and laying limp and far too still. 

    Dream bit his tongue. 

“Save him. Get out of my sight.”

    He felt too much anger in his heart to be able to tolerate them any more. 

    The second they were gone he was looking around the wall. Moving to the edge over the knight’s yard and feeling bile in his throat as he dreaded the sight of a body bleeding and broken on the ground beneath him. He hadn’t seen any earlier but he would admit that he had been far too focused on making sure Punz lived. 

    Nothing. 

    No corpses. 

    He swallowed hard. Feeling the lump in his throat and the blood from his tongue. 

    Dream crossed the wall. Moving to the other side and breathing deep before daring to look over the side. Trees. Houses and trees. Their capital. 

    He saw broken branches down below. 

    He saw blood. 

“I need soldiers down below!”

    His terror consumed his heart. 

“Medic!”

    He was moving. His body running on its own without him really putting the thoughts behind it. Everything in his mind was spinning and screaming with the fear of all that they were about to face. The things he knew were likely at the bottom of the wall. The chances that Bad was already gone. That his body was crushed and broken beyond anything potions would be able to fix. That they were going to need to bury him before they continued on on this fight. That they were going to lose the person they loved and cared for. 

    He was going to have to tell Sam. 

    It felt like he blinked. 

    One moment in the stairs of the wall and the next he was in the middle of the yard. One moment he was in the grass and the next he was over the stones for the main walk. His blood rushing in his ears. His heart swallowing in his throat. He was scared. He needed to know. 

    He already knew. 

“Dream!”

    He tried to turn his head. His body turning numb under him as he saw George running for him. 

“I couldn’t find you at the gate earlier and I was—”

“Punz was hung off the wall.”

    George froze. 

“What?”

“He’s alive but the medics were watching his leg and they— they drugged him—”

“They did what they had to—”

“They ignored him.”

    George was watching him. Worry shining in his eyes as he looked him up and down. 

“About?”

    Dream swallowed. His mouth was turning dry. 

“They pushed Bad off the wall.”

    George’s breath hitched. 

“Is he—”

“I don’t know.”

    He couldn’t stop the waver in his voice. He couldn’t stop the pain from breaking though. The shake that was starting to overwhelm him. 

    All of this was starting to overwhelm him. 

“Come with me.”

    George was taking his hands. He was starting to lead him in. He was pulling him along. Dream hadn’t even realized until they were already moving. 

“I have to—”

“The others will find Bad.”

    They might need help. They might need—

“Dream, you’re shaking.”

    That didn’t matter. 

“Your heart is racing.”

    That wasn’t important. 

“Dream?”

“I need to help them.”

“You will. After I make sure I don’t lose you.”

“George—”

“I listened to you earlier. Please listen to me now. Give me this?”

    He looked to the gate. He felt his heart wilting. 

    He followed along. 

    There were more important things for Phil to be doing right now than checking over Dream. He wasn’t a priority. He wasn’t even hurt. He was fine. 

    Adrenaline and fear crawling through his skin and clawing up his throat weren’t something a healer was going to be able to treat. There wasn’t going to be a saving him from something like this. He wasn’t able to be protected by any amount of potions. He wasn’t able to be guarded like this. 

    But once they were here and under the lighting George had helped him to strip out of his armor. Keeping it from his sight and making sure he didn’t get to see the wings on the back of his armor. 

    He was trying to stop him from knowing. He was trying to protect him from the knowledge of what was there but he already knew. He already knew the death that was to his baby bird. He knew the end that came for a creature that had only ever been kindness and goodness. 

    Dream kept himself still. 

    Letting Phil get to work over him and maneuver him where he wanted. Dream answered the questions that were asked of him and he kept himself steady as much as he could. Anything that was left of his shake or his response was attributed to the battle and adrenaline. 

    Phil and Bad were best friends. How was he standing so calm when they knew what was happening?

    Why did it feel like he was the only one that cared?

    Dream gave his report. Listing off everything that had happened out in the fights and in the city. He listed his side of the explosion in the throne room and what he’d done after. He let Phil examine him and feel over his body. 

    George kept telling him not to lie. 

    Dream didn’t lie. 

    He told them where there was an ache through him. He told them when something felt bruised and where he felt weak. He told them it was like his armor was holding him together but that he was still able to fight. That he’d like to lay down but right now that wasn’t an option. That a leader was needed and that was his job. 

    Neither of them contested that. 

    Neither of them were answering him. 

    He closed his eyes while Phil worked. Letting himself take in the air of the room and the peace he was being granted. He could think here. He could let his mind wander and he could breathe. 

    He thought about if he was a boy and he listed these wounds out to his father. What would have happened to him and the punishments he would have received. The anger and the strikes that would have greeted him the moment he let his guard down. How dark the basement would have been. The anger in the shouts and in the fists that gave him a real reason to be in pain. 

    If it was his mother he liked to think that she would have protected him. That she would have held him and carded through his hair and told him it was alright. That she would have nursed him and kissed his aches and calmed him. Her hands cupping his cheeks and cradling him. 

    George was holding his hand. Right up until Phil was urging him along because he needed more room to work. Until he was pushing him out of the way and Dream was left without his anchor. He was on his own and he was feeling like he was going to fall on the bed. 

    He kept himself sitting. He kept himself fighting. 

    He didn’t allow himself to fall. 

“George,”

    He could see his lover perk up at the call from Phil. He was waiting for something. A decision that was to be made or news that he would need to brace for. 

    Dream would admit only to himself that it stung. 

“Go see your parents.”

    He frowned. 

“I want to stay here.”

“I need the room to test Dream’s movements. I don’t want to crowd him. Can you go see them please?”

    He hesitated. Just a moment until Dream made eye contact with him and tried to show him that it was alright. That despite all the things they’d been through he was okay. He was going to be okay. 

    All of them would be okay. 

    He wouldn’t believe Bad was gone until he saw his body himself. Until he knew that it was too late and that there wasn’t a chance. Until he was weeping over his grave then he wasn’t gone. He was still alive. He was hurt but he was there. He was alright. He was okay. 

    He was okay. 

    All of them were okay. 

    All of them were—

“No lies. What hurts.”

    He was really starting to hate that all of them believed he was lying. 

“I already told you.”

“You told me the easy version. Where you were just a little banged up and could still fight.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

    It wasn’t like he was useless. He’d been hurt and he’d been damaged, sure. He would give them that. He’d been struggling for the last year with the wounds that he had and he’d been in the danger zone more often than not. But he wasn’t useless. 

    He wasn’t pathetic. He wasn’t helpless. 

    All the pain he’ d gone through had ensured that. Dream was built for fighting. He wasn’t made of glass and he wasn’t a dead man walking. He was still the Leading Knight that had been there before. The man that faced armies and won. He was strong and he was determined. 

    He was the untouchable knight. 

    The Kingdom’s Bloody Jewel. 

    He hated that everyone was acting like that man was already dead. 

“Because you aren’t really the same anymore—”

“But I am.”

    He dropped the kindness from his voice. Letting his anger show and letting the bitterness come out. He was tired of this. All he’d wanted was to be able to come home with the fighting ended for their people. All Dream had wanted was to be able to fight for peace and the things of good in the world. He wanted to do the right thing and push through beyond the fate that others believed was too determined to change. 

    Dream had wanted this to be alright. 

    Apparently his family had all found it easier to believe he was dead. 

“Dream—”

“I’m still me, Phil. I’m still fighting. I’m still here. I’m not—”

“You were hurt.”

“Were.”

    He let his anger out. His frustration that was boiling just under the surface of his skin. He wanted to cry because of it but he knew for a fact that if he did they’d just call him weak. They’d tell him he was being overdramatic and they wouldn’t believe him. 

“I was hurt. Past tense. I’m fine.”

“You were just blown up.”

“That doesn’t matter. I took care of it.”

    Phil looked like he’d just gotten the other hand. 

“And what was ‘it’ exactly?”

    Dream glared at him. Armorless and defenseless against a man he didn’t think he’d have to worry about fighting.

“Didn’t matter. I drank a health potion. I was fine. I got George and the others out. Nothing is wrong.”

“Tell me the truth.”

“I already did!”

    He couldn’t do this. 

    He wasn’t a liar before. He didn’t know why suddenly all of them thought he was a liar now. He pushed himself. Sure. Dream knew that. All of them knew that. He’d push himself to the brink and he’d go until he couldn’t anymore. But he hadn’t lied. 

    He’d told them when there was something that he couldn’t handle. 

    All the times before they’d trusted him to handle himself. They weren’t anymore. 

    They treated him like he was broken. 

“You left something out.”

“Yeah? Like what.”

    If he was going to be so high and mighty and know Dream’s body better than him then Dream wanted to see the proof. He wanted to know what exactly the healer had caught that Dream himself had not. He wanted to know what was so good that the man he’d considered part of his extended family was willing to interrogate him for. 

“Your neck is hurting, isn’t it?”

    Dream glowered. 

“It’s just in my head. That’s what you’ve been telling me over and over again. It’s the same thing now. Why would I?”

“Because what if it wasn’t?”

    Dream sat straighter. He schooled his face flat. He kept his eyes hard. 

“Then check it.”

    He was willing to face off for this challenge. He was willing to show for this. 

    He waited as Phil put his hands on him. As he felt over his bones and pressed on his muscles. Dream kept his breathing steady. He felt the strain and the tense of himself as Phil’s fingers hit where it had been hurting since the arena. 

“Everything feels fine.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I’m trying to help you—”

“Yeah but it’s all in my head until you can convince everyone I’m lying.”

    He didn’t mean for the accusation to come out. He didn’t mean for his anger to be so potent and threatening. He didn’t mean to be targeting Phil like this but he felt pushed and cornered and he didn’t know what else he could do other than lash out. It was the only option that was left for him at this point. The only thing he could think that was safe for him to do. 

“Dream—”

“Forget I said anything.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

    It sure as hell felt like it. 

“Your neck is fine as far as I’m able to tell. The pain your feeling could be residual and just needing rest. It’s why I keep checking on it. It’s why I was worried. If there was something small that I wasn’t able to check that had been jarred in the explosion we’d need to know sooner than later to protect you.”

    He bit down hard on the words that wanted to demand that he didn’t need them to protect him. They were his family. They were just trying to help in the ways that they knew how. It wasn’t fair to be blaming them. It wasn’t fair to be attacking them. 

    Phil sighed once he knew he wasn’t going to get a response. Shifting back away and giving Dream his space. 

“Your armor is going to get cleaned before you put it back on. Right now I want you out of it so that the healing potion has space to work.”

“Phil—”

“If there are any internal wounds that you think are just bruising right now and aren’t detectable at the moment then we need to be able to get to you faster to save you and that means no armor. Got it?”

    He didn’t like it. He didn’t have a choice. 

“Fine.”

    Phil softened his gaze. 

“Your squires are fine, by the way.”

    Dream went stiff. 

“I had all of them checked over. They’re alright. Tommy has been leading the squires and keeping them in check. You’d be proud of him. They’re worried about you.”

    Of course they were. Why wouldn’t they be? It was the time to worry about Dream play. It was the time where the only thing people apparently had to do was fret over him and ignore him when he repeated himself to tell them he was alright. That he could handle it. That he was still alive and still capable of being a person. 

    He wasn’t weak and helpless. He couldn’t stand that. He’d had enough of it already. 

    He was done. 

“I’m sure George would like to see you.”

    He would. Dream wanted to see him too. 

    He didn’t warrant Phil a response. 

“You can stay as long as you want here. Sleep if you want to. Leave if you want to.”

    Dream blinked and he was gone. 

    Sitting alone in the room and feeling the bedding ball under his hands when he squeezed them over the sides. Feeling the way everything crushed under his fingers and the strength in his grip despite the tremble that was there. 

    He wanted to run. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry and he wanted to lay down and sleep. 

    He was stuck taking in a breath and holding it until his lungs were screaming. Until he was watching black spots dance over his vision and the urge to be sick rushing up his throat. He was meant to be the Lead and right now he was sitting on the edge of an infirmary bed. He was waiting and watching and nothing was going to happen. 

    He was useless. 

    Tommy would lose him again. All of them would. He was failing them as their Lead the longer he sat here and yet he felt paralyzed every time he tried to push himself to go. 

    He blinked. 

    His fingers felt cold. His body was aching but Dream knew he couldn’t hide. 

    With creaking bones and weary muscles he pushed himself up off the side of the bed. He forced himself to stand and to walk to the curtains. No armor and no real weapons. If they had another attack right now he was going to be stuck with a dagger and hand to hand combat. He was going to be at a disadvantage if they were against archers. The sun was setting. The night was coming. 

    Dream had the advantage still. 

    He would be more than their enemy still. 

    He would fight and he would win. 

    Stepping out of the room Dream felt the air change for him immediately. The way the air was flowing through the hall of it and he tried to keep his heart calm. Nerves rushing along his skin as he took his steps and felt more and more naked as he went. The people around him were used to him in armor and looking strong. 

    They were used to him looking pathetic. 

    Dream couldn’t be one and look the other. 

“Dream.”

    He dragged his eyes away from the ground just in time to see his squires rushing for him. Barely a second of time to prepare before he was having his arms full of them all racing to hug him. Tubbo’s grip nearly crushing his bones together and Tommy’s head digging into his ribs. Ranboo was the only one that seemed to be trying to be gentle. 

    It wasn’t even really working. 

“Hi. Hey, I’m alright.”

“Bad and Punz.”

    So they got the news. 

“Punz is going to be okay. They’re out looking for Bad right now.”

    If he wasn’t dead until they had a body then he wasn’t dead. They were looking for him. Not his body. Not his corpse. They were just looking for him. 

    They’d be fine. 

    All of them were going to be fine. 

“You fought like a badass.”

    Dream swallowed his guilt. 

“Everyone is talking about it. They’re trying to come up with more titles.”

    Ranboo was just trying to fill him in. He was trying to keep him up to date on everything that was going on even though it was making his stomach turn. Even though he felt his heart trying to melt. 

“I told them to just call you dandelion and leave it at that.”

    There was protectiveness in Tommy’s voice. Anger that wasn’t directed at him but rather out towards the others they were talking about. It was defensive and Dream knew in that moment that right now his squire was still seeing him. 

“If they’re going to call you something it needs to be accurate, you know?”

    He loved his boys. 

“Thank you.”

    They were the only ones still calling him strong right now. He needed to find Techno. Get his thoughts on everything and make sure that he wasn’t being ridiculous. He was going to lose it if he had to go longer without things working right for him. 

    He just needed a break. 

    So did they. 

“You three should rest.”

    He could already hear their protests. 

“Boys, go.”

    He wasn’t going to let them not take care of themselves. He needed them to be better than him. He needed them to be safe.

    That was all he needed of them. 

    Just to be safe. 

    Dream would follow. 

    He would Lead. 

    He would be what he had always been. 

    Central’s Bleeding Knight. 

Chapter Text

    George’s worry weighed his heart more and more. The longer time he spent sitting with his parents and watching the machines keep his father alive. The longer he listened to his mother trying to stop herself from crying. 

    When Dream had eventually come to check on them he told them he just sent the boys to bed. He’d waited there with them. All of them worried and stressed and George had been able to rest his head on his lover’s shoulder. Feeling Dream breathe and taking in the comfort of his arm around him. He cared about Dream. He loved Dream. 

    He was so scared he could have lost him in the fight. 

    On one hand he knew that Dream was frustrated. He knew he didn’t like all the attention and all the questions about his health. He’d never been one for being asked about it. It was something Dream had held private to his chest since he’d first come to the palace. He wasn’t good at letting other people in. He wasn’t good at being honest with himself. 

    He knew the questions were wearing on him. He knew that Dream was upset. 

    He just didn’t want to lose him. He didn’t want to let Dream’s pride get in the way for the sake of keeping the peace and have that be the thing that kills him in the end. If it would keep Dream alive and win him then he would accept his lover being a little upset. 

    If it kept Dream safe there was nearly nothing he wouldn’t do. 

    It wasn’t until George nearly fell asleep against his lover that he was being nudged to go change and eat and go to bed. 

“I can’t.”

    His mother shook her head. 

“George—”

“I have to debrief with everyone. I need to make sure we're actually safe tonight and that the people who lost their homes in the attack have a bed and warm food. I won’t sleep until our people can sleep. When they rest easy I will too.”

    It was the duty of a King. George could imagine looking to the bed right now and seeing his father smiling proudly at him. He knew that he would be. He knew that his dad would encourage the things he was saying even if they might be slightly self destructive. The duty of a ruler was to provide for their nation first and foremost. If they failed in that duty then they failed in everything else. If he was sleeping and living in a life of luxury while their people were suffering then he would have no right to wear a crown of Central. 

    Their crown was as much as their leash as it was their platform. 

“Then I’ll gather reports and I’ll meet you for the debrief.”

“Mom—”

“If you are not allowing yourself rest until it’s done I’m making sure that you actually do so I don’t have to watch over both of you in these beds.”

    He bit his tongue immediately. Her hand was wrapped so tightly around his dad’s that he couldn’t take that from her. He couldn’t deny that he knew she was scared. That she was hurting. That she didn’t want to be dealing with this as much as any of them did. 

    George just didn’t want her to be pushing herself when he could see the circles under her own eyes. When he could see the fear in the way she was holding onto his father in the bed. When he looked back to his dad and watched the strain in his breathing and thought about all the times when he was younger and they were out in the yard together with his dad teaching him how to hold a sword. How to be a knight. Passing down the lessons that they’d had since their First King. Teaching him what it was to be a royal of Central. 

 “You should clean yourself up before we meet. Make sure you aren’t hurt.”

    He knew he was still very covered in dust. That he had the filth of a fight still glued over his skin. He’d already been checked medically but he knew what his mom was talking about. 

    The appearance of the crown. They were expected to look the part. If he wanted to give his people faith as their acting King right now when everything around them was so shaken then he needed to be clean and steady. He had to be calm and show them strength. He couldn’t show them that he was hurt. 

    It was one of the reasons he didn’t argue when he said he was still able to fight. 

    As much as he worried over him he did trust Dream. He loved him and he cared for him. He knew what Dream was willing to do just about anything for the sake of protecting their people just as much as he himself was. George knew that. He did. He trusted Dream. 

“If Dream comes with me I’ll go.”

    It would force them to have their alone time. No one would go in to debate with him about going to take care of himself. He knew that half the knights in the palace wanted their royals and their Lead to take better care of themselves. He could see it when they walked around the halls and he saw them looking toward Dream. How he would push himself and the things he did to make sure he was serving them. 

    He looked at his lover. 

    Just a day ago they were up in their bedroom and Dream was getting caught in a flashback to the point he couldn’t stand being in the same room. He was watching his lover suffer over and over again and the calm that was here now was striking to him. 

    He knew that Dream was hurting. He knew that he was still struggling. It wasn’t that he thought Dream wasn’t capable of fighting or that any of his strength was gone. It was just that he knew how much damage there had been and he had been forced to watch him seize again and again for something they couldn’t control or save. He had seen Dream’s pain. 

    It scared him how right now it looked like there was nothing wrong. How Dream was moving like there wasn’t anything hurting him. He’d listened to him when he was telling Phil about the aches he was feeling and he trusted him to know his own body but he knew the rest. He knew how much Dream could hide. He remembered when they were children and how no one had known he was sick until they were watching him practically on his death bed. How in the recovery of the cave he would push himself harder than he needed to and George more than once had found his lover in a heap on the floor. 

    If they went together then George would be able to check him too. 

    He could make sure he was really alright. 

    He could apologize for how he’s been. 

    Dream was nodding low to his mother. Offering her a smile under his broken mask so that she could see it in his one visible eye. There was still blood staining his skin. Still dirt marring him. 

    They both needed a bath. 

“I’ll make sure he’s safe.”

“Promise me.”

    Dream lifted a hand. Settling it over his heart and bending forward a bit in the chair. 

“I swear on my life. He will be safe.”

    He had no doubt. 

    There has never been a single moment of his life with Dream where he thought he was in danger with his lover beside him. Even when Dream was delirious in an infirmary bed and he knew there was no way for him to fight should they be attacked. George always felt safe beside him. Each and every time and that wasn’t about to change now. 

    The two of them were up after that. Dream moving toward the curtains after bowing to his mother and then stepping out. George took his father’s open hand. Squeezing it gently and willing him to heal and get better before he was standing and going to hug his mom. 

    Dream was taking his hand nearly the second he stepped out from the curtains. 

    They walked nearly in silence on their way up to the top floor. The two of them taking in the sounds of the palace and what all was happening with their people. They could hear the calls and the shouts that echoed from time to time. They could smell the smoke and ash and blood that was still lingering the whole way through the air. It felt saturated. It felt like it was clotting against everything and they’d need to spent the next months cleaning down every brick of the palace before it would start to seem normal again. 

    They’d had to rebuild their throne room already a year ago with the attack then. They’d needed to defend themselves and the markers that made them unique. 

    They were doing it again now. He knew that his people would work fast. That the throne room would be stable for them to work likely by the time he made it down to it again. They’d stockpiled materials just in the case of another attack like they had today. They were ready for it. Ready for someone to go after them and attempt to kill them and take out the Compass Heart. 

    They were better prepared. 

    They knew what they were doing. 

    The silence lasted the whole way until they made it to their room. 

    For the first time since the smoke bombs went off earlier, George felt like he could breathe. His shoulders slumping and his vision blurring. He could feel a headache pulsing behind his eyes and he thought for a moment he was going to be sick. 

    He hadn’t even realized he was falling until Dream’s arms were wrapping around him and supporting him to keep him up. 

“George?”

    He could hear the worry. The fear that was there as Dream was already trying to feel him over for wounds that had been missed. He just wrapped his arms around his knight instead. Clinging onto him like he was the only stable thing in the world. 

“I’m so tired.”

    The sun had set by now. The sky beyond their window was dark. Shadowed and freckled with stars in the sky. Dream without his armor was comfortable to lay on. To press his head against and hide himself away into. He thought of their nights together before everything happened. How they would fit so comfortably. How he would bury himself into his fiance and kiss him and tell him how he dreamt of their wedding. 

    How he was excited for the day it would come. 

    Dream lifted a hand to cup the back of his head. Holding him in place and wrapping his other arm around his waist. 

“We’ll sleep soon, yeah?”

“Will you sleep with me?”

    He knew the question was dangerous. He knew that Dream might say no. After the night they’d had just before and the way the day had gone he wouldn’t blame him if he denied. He wouldn’t be upset but he would admit that it would make his heart sting. Not in anger or anything towards Dream it would just be the fact that he missed him. 

    He missed how they used to be. He missed how easy all of it had been. He missed how calm it was. How they would just go to bed when they wanted to sleep and they would lay there and they would talk and he’d have Dream’s hands in his hair and he’d return the favor. How they’d help one another out of their clothes and they’d—

“Do you want me to?”

    The question came out wounded. Bleeding and open for him to take. Like Dream’s uncertainty and his fear was all loaded in those words. 

“Of course I do.”

“I could have another nightmare.” George knew his worry. “Another flashback. I could keep you awake. I don’t—”

“You are worth it.”

“Not to our Kingdom. Not when you’re acting King. Not when it’s your health.”

    Dream knew how much he hated that his life was weighted more than the others. He knew that his lover knew. Dream and him had had multiple conversations about it and still every single time it came down to Dream affirming time and time again that he saw it as an honor. That he would happily give up his life for the sake of protecting him. To leave George to order him that his only service would be living for him. 

    Just live. 

“You’re my Lead. I need to be checking on your health too.” He looked up at him. “Besides, you’re my lover; it would be weird if I wasn’t checking on you.”

“You’re going to worry yourself into a grave.”

“I’m alright with that.”

    He felt Dream’s sigh through his chest. Laughing to himself for the conversation that felt like one of the most normal ones they’d had in a while before Dream went tense in his arms and swallowed down his own breaths. 

“Dream?”

    He took a moment.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” He offered him a smile. “I just stretched one of my bruises. It’s fine.”

    George frowned. It wasn’t fine. Anything that was hurting Dream wasn’t fine. He would fight that subject every day for the rest of his life if he had to. 

“We should clean up.”

    Neither of them moved. 

“We should.”

    They stayed in each other’s arms. 

“I can start the bath?”

    George hummed.

“That would be nice.”

    They stayed with each other. George listening to the beat of Dream’s heart beneath his ear. Feeling his lover’s hands on his back and in his hair. He felt his breathing. He breathed him in. 

“You do stink a little, Dream.”

    He laughed.

“Then you need to let me go so we can get a bath.”

    He groaned. He felt Dream laugh. 

“Come on, Highness.” 

    They pulled away from each other. George turning to gather clothes for himself while he knew Dream would worry about that detail after he was clean. He heard the water pump start in the other room. He knew Dream would be heating the water for them. That he would be getting everything ready. 

    It felt normal. The motions they were doing with each other. Getting into the bath together. How they moved in order to clean one another like it was their second nature. Dream taking a cloth and working it over him and trying to rid him of the grime attached to his skin. The motions that George knew so well of combing his fingers through Dream’s hair and untangling it as he went. Rubbing circles into his scalp and feeling him practically melt into the water and soap. 

    They gave each other time. Taking one another in and feeling the calm that was there for the both of them. The time they had to just simply be. 

    No responsibility. No job calling them down. Nothing. 

    Until they were holding each other in the water. Breathing the oat scented steam and relearning each other. George running his hands lightly over each of Dream’s scars. Dream tracing George’s muscles with the tips of his fingers. They both had their eyes closed now. Sitting and letting their bodies soak. Feeling the water around them until it was like there was no difference at all. Their fingers and toes turning wrinkled and their minds finally at peace. 

    Resting. 

    Together and calm and for a few moments George wondered if Dream was actually sleeping against him. Head on his chest and half sprawled on his lap in the tub. His breathing was even and steady. It was the most relaxed he’d seen him since the arena and he’d seen him attempting to sleep. 

    If this was what it took then George wasn’t going to leave the bath. 

    His mother would understand. 

    They could stay here. Wrapped in each others arms and in their peace and—

    A knock at the door jolted Dream enough to hitch his breath and have him pull back. Up and ready for a fight despite the bleariness George could see in his eyes. 

“Highness?”

    He heard Ant on the other side of the door. They must have taken too long. His mother must have gotten worried. 

“Are you alright?”

“We’re fine, Ant.”

    He looked at Dream. Saw him bite back a yawn and look down at the water like he’d just been told he couldn’t adopt a kitten he’d spent the day in the city with. 

“Tell her I’ll be down in just a minute.”

    He heard Ant’s acknowledgement. The sounds of his boots on the floor as he moved away. George turned himself back to Dream. 

“I’m sorry he woke you up.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

    The same confusion that was on a cat’s face when startled awake was on Dream’s now. 

“Uh huh.”

    Dream gave him a pout. 

“Would I ever lie to you?”

    George smiled. His eyes turning soft as he took in his lover on his knees in the water. 

“No.” He didn’t even have to think. “Never.”

    Their moment couldn’t last long. They both knew their duties were on a time clock and they didn’t exactly have the time to waste for it. George was the one that moved first. Pushing himself up and feeling the stretch through his body as it protested his movement. He wanted few things more than to just bury his face into his pillows and attempt to smother himself there. To lay with Dream beside him and just sleep for the next year and half at least. Let the world handle itself for a bit. But then Dream was standing. His knight pulling himself from the water and wincing when he pulled his torso straight. 

    After their time the bruises had fully settled in. Dark and deep, lashing over him from impacts that had likely happened during the explosion and the following fight. He knew Dream had taken a health potion and he knew that he wasn’t really in danger of anything right now especially after Phil checked him over but that didn’t change the fact that he was in pain. 

    That the water had been the one place he’d seemed to feel safe. 

“You can stay for a while longer.”

    George could hear the denial even before Dream opened his mouth.

“I should go with you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

    Giving him a smile was easy. 

“I’ll be with Ant and my mom. The palace is under its heaviest guard. Nothing will get to me if you allow yourself a few extra minutes of soaking here.”

    He wasn’t happy about it but he did accept. Only after he had George’s hand cupping his cheek and a whispered please into the air. Only then did Dream allow himself to cave and George feel pride in his heart for the normalcy of it all. How far they’d come. 

    How much they’d survived. 

“Come meet us in the throne room when you’re ready.”

    He dried himself off. Redressing himself into simple clothes so that it wouldn’t be hard for him to change for bed once he made it back. He hoped if the water made Dream realize how tired he was that going to bed wouldn’t be as much of a struggle as they worried it would be. He hoped that his heart would have an easier time getting the rest he so desperately needed. 

    The final step was his crown. 

“I love you.”

    He called it easily into the bathroom. Crown in hand and stepping to the doorway to look in at Dream. Stretched through the tub and head leant back onto the edge of the porcelain. He looked calm. 

“Dream?”

    Dandelion eyes blinked open at him. Finding him immediately and making George smile all the more. 

“Try not to fall asleep alone in the bath and drown, okay?”

    His lover rolled his eyes. 

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Sure.” He let his word carry in his laugh. Watching Dream another moment. Feeling the fleeting moments of their peace. “I love you.”

    Quieter this time. Spoken just for them even though they were the only two in the room. Dream softened himself back in return. Watching him kindly and with so much affection it hurt to know he’d be turning away. 

“I love you too.”

    But they had jobs to do. 

    So George placed the crown on his head. He forced himself to step away from the door. Out into the hallway and down their stairs. 

    For the acting King. For Central. 

    For another sleepless night. 

    Dream let himself float. Not sleeping. Very pointedly he wasn’t sleeping in the tub. That would be stupid and dangerous and he knew better than that. He was just, relaxing. Giving himself peace and closing his eyes and only after he did did he notice how dry they’d been. All the fighting and the fire heat. 

    He didn’t know how long he let himself sit like that. Waiting for George and thinking things over until he knew that he had to get out. His place was beside his Prince and he wasn’t ever going to regret that. He wanted to be by George’s side. He wanted to stay with him and watch over him and feel his body in his hands again and take in the fact that he was starting to feel human like this in the bath together. 

    It felt normal. 

    He missed normal. 

    Pulling himself from the water was easy enough. His body was easing despite the protest it still gave when he made it move again. He was fine. He didn’t need anymore help. Just a night of sleep and he would be fine in the morning. His neck would stop hurting, his headache would go away. 

    He’d be fine. 

    Especially if he and George were going to sleep in the same bed tonight. With the way their bath had just gone he was actually daring to give himself a little hope that he’d be able to properly sleep. No restraints and hopefully no nightmares. That he would be able to just hold George in his arms and bury his face into his hair and let himself fall asleep in the soft pillows and plush mattress. Safe under the blankets and protected from anything around them. 

    He wanted that. 

    Almost so much he’d be willing to pray despite the Gods not being real. 

    He wondered if that was how his story could end. Safe in bed. All of it over. Sleeping and safe and finally with his peace. 

    Dream knew his only peace would be death. 

    Getting himself up and ready was easy enough. He knew the motions of his routine and he knew the layout of George’s room. He knew what he was doing to move around the Prince’s chambers. For the last years of his life this was the room he’d nearly lived out of. His room in the barracks hardly touched while George’s bed smelled more and more like him. 

    The halls were silent by the time Dream stepped back into them. Listening for any footsteps or any people that could be coming. 

    He’d left his mask in George’s room. Leaving it there for the fact that it was broken and he was too tired to put it back on. Before, that wouldn’t have even been something to be considered. If the mask was broken he would have hidden himself away to make sure no one saw his face. He would have protected himself in the shadows and not given anyone that power over him. 

    Now? His face had been seen by most of the people in the palace. Any of the times he was in the infirmary or the days just after. Where he wasn’t wearing his mask in order to let his family see his expressions to know if he needed help. When he was a fainting risk for the act of standing that had been something he had to swallow hard. Knowing that he needed to rebuild his strength by moving and knowing that his family had to be able to gauge if he was going to fall. 

    In his recoveries or in his fights. They’d seen him more and more through the last year without the mask covering his face. This wasn’t being taken by Parker. It wasn’t even really being taken by the attack. They’d seen him fighting with it broken on his face. They’d seen him working with it. He’d kept the mark of terror that it left in their enemies. They’d know that without his mask now was by his own choice. 

    His own acceptance that there was still peace even despite the fight that had been through their day. 

    Dream wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he made it back to Central’s throne room. He’d known that the room had taken damage when the bomb went off earlier. The pillars cracked and falling and part of the ceiling. The table gone and chunks of the floor. Chandelier glass and other materials. Dream had been in there. He knew that their people were skilled and he knew they worked fast but when he entered the room and he saw the rubble pushed to piles on the side and the floor already mostly fixed he let himself pause. The ground was dirty and dusty still but it was whole again. Not exactly perfect but enough that they could stand and walk on it. 

    Impressive were their people, indeed. 

    He saw the new table that was in place. Much smaller than the one they’d brought in before. Only a few pieces of paper were laying on it and a map of the palace grounds from what he could tell. George, their Queen, and Ant were all gathered there already. He knew that he was coming in late and that he was likely going to be questioned by his Queen but he didn’t expect George to look at him with something dark hidden in his eyes. 

    That never held good news. 

    Moving up to the table he looked at the map. 

“Marks of damage from the bombs earlier.”

    It was strategic. Placed out to be the turrets instead of the walls itself. It wasn’t where there were the most guards so they weren’t looking for death tolls. It was the turret to be blocking the way for more knights to get up. For any knight to get out. 

“Does this include the smoke bombs from the first attack?”

    He might have wanted desperately to be staying in the thoughts of peace and the calm of his time with George but right now they couldn’t afford for that. Right now he had to be in the mindset of Leading Knight and war strategist. He had to figure out what they were working with before he could start to dissect it. 

“Smoke grenades as far as we can tell were here and here.”

    Each point to the map painted a more clear picture. 

    Their enemy was smart. 

    Calculating down to a T even so that the wind would be at their aid. It was well thought out. 

    It was done with knowledge of their palace and the systems for patrols. 

    This was planned from someone on the inside. 

“Dream,” He heard the exhaustion and pain in his Queen’s voice. “Were you close to any of these spots when the attacks happened? Were you one of their targets?”

    He looked back towards the gardens on the map. He saw a couple that had been back there but when he opened his mouth to say they weren’t close enough to warrant that dedication he remembered what he’d done. 

    He’d told a guard to tell George he was in the library. 

“No. Other than the actual explosions and being in the room but,” He breathed. “I don’t think that counts.”

    George wasn’t looking at him. Eyes trained down on the paper and running through it all in his head. 

“What’s the status of our people?”

    He wanted to know why George had the look on his face that he did. Why he seemed so on edge and why he looked like he was haunting himself. 

“They’re alright, all things considered.”

    He breathed a little easier. George’s shoulders almost looked like they dropped. 

“The people who lost their homes are sheltered in the yard for the night. We have them guarded to make sure there aren’t any other attacks. The rest of the capital as well. There weren’t as many casualties as there could have been.”

“That’s good, at least.”

    Little things. Little victories. He’d done that for himself during the war with the East. Counted out the things that were good and the things that were bad and tried to ease himself into remembering that not everything was going to be perfect. Remembering that they were all human and that he had to take a victory where he could get one. He wasn’t going to be able to save everyone but the people he did manage to protect meant something. As long as at least one of them was still able to fight then he would count it as a win. 

“Do we know anything more about the rogues?”

    Ant shifted where he stood at the table. 

“No. All of their armor was unmarked. Every weapon and we don’t have one alive to interrogate.”

    Dream paused.

“I thought we’d captured one of them earlier today?”

    Ant didn’t so much as look up from the table.

“They attempted to strangle the guard that was leading them to the dungeons. They had their throat slit.”

    He couldn’t say he wouldn’t have done the same. Not after all that’s happened through the day. Not after all the things they’d been through. 

“Dream?”

    George’s voice was quiet. It put him on edge. Looking across the table to his lover and seeing nearly a different person than the one that had spent time in the bath with him just an hour ago. 

“Where were you when the first attack happened?”

    He looked back to the map himself. He missed how George looked at Ant. 

“The library. What—”

    He heard the sharp breath from George. 

“The library. You’re sure?”

    His stomach twisted. He could feel Ant’s eyes on him. He could feel his Queen. 

“George—”

“What do these plans look like to you, Dream?”

    His hands were turning cold. Nerves spinning in his gut and making him more and more anxious just standing there. 

“Our enemy is smart. They’re careful and they planned this. They had help from someone on the inside too. To know our rotations like this? It’s—”

“Why were you in the gardens?”

    Dream’s heart dropped. 

“What?”

“You heard me.”

    He couldn’t read George’s voice. He could tell the darkness that was wrapping around it but he couldn’t make out the rest of it. The clotted emotions that sounded like they felt too much. 

“George, listen to me—”

“Why were you in the gardens.”

    A demand. An order for information. No longer an ask. 

    But if he told him why then there would be other issues for them both. Just when it was starting to look normal again. He was thinning. Weighing over his options. Feeling more and more like a cornered animal every day after they’d made it home from the arena. 

    George scoffed. Hollow and broken. Almost a sigh and nearly a sob. 

“You lied to me.”

    His blood ran cold. 

“No—”

“Tell me why you were in the garden.”

“I can’t—”

“Dream.”

    For the first time George looked up at him. Staring at him and through dark eyes Dream saw the conflict that was there. The storm of emotions that ranged from his sorrow to his fury. The whole way to his grief for a man standing right in front of him. 

“Do you recognize the attack?”

    With a dry mouth, Dream lowered his eyes back down to the paper on the table between them. He scanned over it. Looking at the placements and the procedures that were followed. The plans that were tracked and traced. 

    He felt his heart grow heavier with each moment he put it together. 

“Yes.”

“Why?”

    He didn’t want to say it. 

“This was my plan.”

    From years ago. Back when they were still at war with the East before he’d made it out into the fighting and got the Front of Fronts to turn itself around. The war was dangerously close to their border and about to cross over the line. They knew that they weren’t going to stand a chance if the East went over the mountain and into the palace. They could hold a siege and they would lose their home. 

    Dream had made an escape plan for them. Ran it past Sam and got the approval of the crown. He’d thought through how they would get out and regroup and he’d planned for how he would attack in order to take their palace back. 

    Minimal casualties. 

    Damage meant to trap. 

    It was his. 

“Tell me why you were in the garden.”

    His heart crumpled in his chest. Looking back up to his lover he found George’s eyes staring straight into his own. He could hear the emotions through George’s voice but he could hardly read them on his face. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He didn’t know what was for the best. 

“You don’t think that I had something to do with this,” Dream let his own hurt show. A glance to Ant and his Queen. Eyes falling back to his lover. “Do you?”

“Were you meeting with someone?”

    The world fell from beneath his feet. 

“George—”

“Phil didn’t find any serum in you but if the dose was small enough it could have worn out so—”

    His own fears lit beneath his skin. 

“Tell me what’s happening, Dream.”

    His heart was racing. Beating fast in his chest to the point that he thought if someone listened to it they might try to compare him more to a rabbit than a man. The world was blurring around him on the edges. Honing in his focus until it was just George that he could focus himself in on. Until he was staring at his betrothed and seeing the end of his peace. 

    If he told him he would break him. 

    If he didn’t he would destroy him. 

“Dream.”

    Desperation. The sound of a broken promise and the sound of a lie. 

    All of it was him. 

“I can’t—”

    He couldn’t breathe. His lungs were catching but no one else seemed to notice. 

“You can’t?”

    So much hurt was in his voice. So much pain and anger and conflict and Dream wanted to scream. He wasn’t saying that he couldn’t answer him. He was trying to tell him he couldn’t breathe. He was trying to tell him his life felt like it was melting around him and he didn’t know what to do. He was trying to reach for his lover and George didn’t see him. 

“If it’s the serum then I—

    He thought he saw tears in George’s eyes. The Queen placing a hand on her son’s shoulder. Ant was watching him. None of them noticed the shortness he felt in his lungs. 

“If it wasn’t the serum, George, you might have to—”

“Dream wouldn’t willingly betray us.”

    George looked at him. Staring at him with eyes so full of his heart that he could have wept. He wanted to reach for him. He wanted to hold him like they had in the bath and just simply lay with him and close his eyes and have all of this be a dream. 

    Slipping under the water and drowning in his idiocy would have been kinder than this. 

“You wouldn’t.”

    He shook his head. Harder and harder until his neck was screeching in agony and he saw spots light across his eyes. 

“No. No George I didn’t. I would never. I—”

“He could be lying.”

    Ant’s voice was hard. Braced and guarded and only then did he notice the knight’s hand on his sword. 

    He wanted to beg to George that he knew he wouldn’t lie to him like that. That he would never. But he couldn’t. 

    Because he just had. 

    He’d lied about where he was. 

“It’s the serum.”

    George didn’t even sound like he believed himself. 

“And until we know the threat is gone they’ll keep going after him to use him.”

“George—”

    He needed him to look at him. He needed his lover to understand. Dream tried to reach for him. 

    George flinched away. 

“Guards!”

    His heart snapped. George stared right at him. Dream felt like he wasn’t even there. 

“Put him in the dungeons.” Their eyes watered together. Dream and George’s both. Their hearts shattered in tandem. “I want him under guard. No one goes near him unless I know.”

    He felt the hands on him. He felt the way they pulled him back. How they dragged him from the table. This was his final chance to fight. His one last moment he had to get to his lover and make him see and understand. To try to get through to George and explain and let him know. 

“All his food and water are tested.”

    He wasn’t drugged. 

    He wasn’t being controlled. 

    He was still him. 

    He was still him.

“George, please—”

“What could you say to me?”

    He watched George’s first tear fall. 

“I’m not under serum. I’m still—”

“If there was no serum then you’re not my Dream.”

    His heart stopped dead in his chest. Breaking into nothing but dust and powder and being washed away by the storm of his own sorrow. 

“If there wasn’t serum then—” He watched his lover shake. His voice break. “Then the man I loved is dead.”

    The guards dragged him another step. Desperation clawing and raging inside of him to try to make it back to George’s side and get him to understand. To see him and hear him and know that just because his plan was stolen didn’t mean it was him. That he would explain everything to him and he would offer him his soul. 

    That George was his soul. 

    That—

    The guards kicked him in the back of the knees. Dropping him down and forcing him to the ground. Holding him down as Ant moved forward with his sword drawn. 

    It was only his Queen that stopped him from losing his head. 

    Soft footfalls before he saw George come to stand in front of him. Before he was kneeling down in front of him and reaching out a hand to cup his cheek. 

    An echo of what they’d just had up in the bathroom together. Of their moments of intimacy that he would do anything to bring back. That he would pray if it would save. 

“Please.”

    He begged. 

“Tell me it isn’t you.”

    He tried to take a breath. He failed. 

“It wasn’t.” His own tears burned his throat. “I swear to you, George, I didn’t do this.”

    He’d be called a liar. He’d be denied. He’d be left to rot. 

“I just wanted you back.”

    The same thing Tommy had said. 

“You promised me you’d come back.”

    Dream wanted to die. 

    George didn’t even look away from him. 

“Take him away.”

    The guards dragged him. 

    Pulling him harshly and forcing him to scramble to try to have any chance of catching himself on the ground. 

“George!”

    His life was failing. He still saw his lover watching. Dream felt his tears falling. 

“I love you.”

    He needed to hear it. He needed to know it wasn’t over. He needed to know that he hadn’t lost it all. 

    But George watched him. Until he reached the doors. Until Dream choked it out again. Only then did he hear it. Whispered and shattered. Wilted and hurt and burning. 

“I can’t.”

Chapter Text

    The sunrise. The East. The light coming in from the window and the peace that was in the room. The silence blanketing them. The soft breathing James could hear beside him. The lull in the bond. The calm that was there. The silk of the sheets. The wool of the blankets. The humanity they had. 

    The screams that pushed through his skull telling him warnings and panic and acted as if he was standing in front of a loaded bow. 

    James all but launched from the bed. Scrambling at the blankets to get them away from him and breathing the cool air of the room down into his lungs with gasps large and loud enough to wake his lover beside him. 

“James?”

    His heart was still beating strong in his chest. The Stars clamoring back now that he was awake but he still felt them active and present. He still felt their attentions on him and trying to make him move. 

“What is it?”

“Stars.”

    He closed his eyes. Trying to focus himself and trying to will his body to calm down. To get the Stars to listen to him and have an actual conversation. He liked when that was the case. He hated when it was just screams. Right now they’d been clattering to get his attention. Yelling to wake him up and get him to move but as he looked around the room James saw nothing. 

    There was no threat. There was no reason of danger around them. He knew that the attacks were bad and he knew that their people were stretched thin and that there was a lot that was happening right now but he was safe. The Stars only warned him if there was danger to him or his family. 

    Francis was fine. Sitting beside him and alright. When he asked the Stars for Toby they showed him sleeping soundly himself in a bed. He thought of Mars. Of his little squire and the Stars showed her curled up with a pillow hugged to her chest. 

    He could feel his lover sitting up in the bed beside him. Wings shifting and crackling softly as he stretched them out behind them. 

“What do they want?”

    Francis was still just as stubborn as ever when it came to the Stars. He was determined and he was headstrong about them. The fact that he refused to worship them and only him instead. Some days it felt like that distinction was harder to make than others. Right now was not one of those days. 

    He felt Francis lean his head onto his shoulder. Mouthing a kiss against the side of his neck and allowing the small horns he’d let out while they slept graze along his jaw. 

“I’ll tell them to shut up. We can keep sleeping.”

    He wanted to laugh at the antics. Normally he would. When the Stars were just spouting things out and it was easy for him to shake it off. He’d gotten better at things as their days went on and as he learned more about his powers. He’d felt something change from when he was in the arena. Everything was stronger now. He had more control now. 

    They weren’t letting him relax. 

“Something’s wrong.”

    He saw blood. When he closed his eyes he saw blood splattering over the ground of the throne room. He saw a body laying there. He heard yelling and shouting and sobbing. 

“Like what?”

    James heard the shift from Francis almost as soon as he told him it wasn’t right. The change over into knight mode as he got ready to protect and defend. He could see him checking over the room himself and scanning for any threats that he would be able to pick up but there was none. 

    He closed his eyes. 

    Stone floors and the smell of underground. Cold air that was wafting through and the sound of a racing heart. Begs.

“James?”

    The Stars were yelling at him to move. To get away from where he was and do something else. Like it was them laying in the bed together that was causing all of the distress despite the things he was seeing not matching to their room at all. They had wooden floors. They had peace here. Carpets. 

    What he saw was quartz, marble, and glass. 

    What he saw was Central’s throne room. 

“Get out of the bed.”

    Francis went stiff. 

“What?”

    The Stars yelled. Echoing and demanding and he could have sworn he heard his father’s voice behind them. 

“Get out of the bed.”

    He was moving for himself as he said it. Echoing with the Stars and accidentally letting them come out with his words. Francis was moving immediately on the command. Staring at him from the other side and waiting to see what was wrong. 

“I’m sorry.”

    He pushed it through their bond. Trying to make his lover understand that he hadn’t meant to do that to him. That he hadn’t meant to shout at him this early in the morning or at all in the first place even. 

“It’s alright.”

    He was coming around the bed. Wings folded against his back and even allowing his tail to swish with his nerves. James had always found it endearing. Watching him in half dragon form and just acting on things that are natural to him without even realizing it. 

“What are they saying now?”

    They weren’t stopping. Still whistling and whining into his head that there was something wrong. That he needed to move and that they had to do something. 

“He’s of your power.”

“He’s scared.”

“You need to help him.”

“This is your duty.”

“It’s in your blood.”

    He squeezed his eyes shut. Trying and willing for them to just show him what the issue was. Why they were so panicked. Why they were so in arms for what was going on. He needed answers and they weren’t giving them to him. He needed to understand but the Stars weren’t helping him to do it. 

“I don’t know.”

“He is your c—”

    The knock on the door lurched his heart into his throat. Skipping it and making him jump hard enough that Francis was catching him and wrapping his wings around them like he was bracing for a bomb. 

    The knocks came louder. More urgent. 

    The Stars begged him to go. 

    He patted lightly at Francis’ arms. Getting him to let go of him even though he could feel how reluctant the motion was. James stepped up towards the door. Keeping his footfalls light enough that he wasn’t going to show the person outside that he was awake and moving. 

    The knocks gained in force. Nearly pounding into the wood and nearly sounding desperate before James opened it. 

    He expected knights. He expected rogues or something along the lines of a threat. With the way the Stars had been behaving he thought it was going to be a blade that would meet him on the other side. That this was the danger they were trying to tell him to escape and he hadn’t moved fast enough. 

    Instead he found the opposite. 

“George?”

    He looked terrible. Pale and cheeks flushed and eyes glassy and bloodshot. Tear tracks staining down his cheeks and his eyelashes clumped together. He looked terrified. His breathing coming out in short pants like he’d been hyperventilating before he made it up to them and immediately all of James’ protective instincts were up on edge. 

    He grabbed for George gently. Pulling him into the room and quickly checking the hallway to see if there were any witnesses for what was going on. He wanted to make sure his friend was defended. He wanted to make sure he was safe. The Stars told him there was no one. They were clamoring for George. 

“George, what—”

“I lost him.”

    The waver was heavy and hard enough in his voice that it made both James and Francis stop. He could feel Francis through their bond reaching to ask what was going on and if he knew what was happening. Offering support where he could for what both of them knew was about to be a hard conversation. 

    George was shaking. His breathing hitching as he wrapped his arms around himself and dug his nails into his arms. James reached for him. George stepped back. 

“I couldn’t stop it, I didn’t—”

    New tears were welling in his eyes. James swallowed his own fear. 

“Okay. Alright. We can figure this out. Okay?”

    He waited for George to nod. Hearing him take a ragged breath and he wondered how long his friend had been like this. The Stars were nearly silent now. Waiting and watching what was unfolding for them and he wondered why they had such a strong interest in this. Why it was his father that had been behind the order for him to move. 

    And then he remembered why George was currently the Acting King. 

“Your father—”

    He was already shaking his head. 

“Alive. He’s still alive. I think.”

    James breathed. Knowing his friend was safe from that for at least a little bit longer. Francis was watching the door. He looked like he was waiting. 

“Where’s Dream?”

    James felt his own heart stutter at the realization. Dream was nearly always by George’s side. For the time since they’d made it back from the arena he’d been fairly distant but after the fights yesterday things had looked almost normal between the two of them. He’d thought it was getting better. He’d thought there was improvement and that they were healing. That Dream and George would be inseparable once again and that he’d stop seeing George mope watching after his knight. 

    Too many times. Even while George was going in and out with fever and Dream wasn’t able to see him. He’d watched his friend cry and all but beg for Dream to be with him. He was the only thing he wanted. The only touch he wanted. Out of everything they tried to give to him George fought if he didn’t have Dream with him. When they made it back and his fever had broken and he was acting more like himself again he was watching the halls and the yard and he looked haunted. Waiting for the ghost of Dream to come out and greet him when his knight was hiding himself away. 

    It wasn’t like James could blame him. 

    He was the only person who had felt even part of the serum without being under it. Guarding Francis from it through their bond had been enough. Knowing that what was given to Dream was a stronger version? He didn’t blame him for being scared of himself and struggling with the recovery. 

    Francis had been keeping an eye on him. Watching out for him and making sure he didn’t do anything stupid. 

    Francis had Dream. 

    James had George. 

“He’s in the dungeons.”

    There was something scraping in George’s throat. Like it was hurting him just to say the words as fresh tears welled in his eyes again. Dripping heavy and falling to the floor. 

    Both James and Francis went stiff. Standing taller and ignoring the fact that both of them were still in sleep clothes. Francis was only in pants yet he looked ready to race down to the dungeons and free Dream himself. 

“What?”

“Who put him there? I’ll rip them apart if they—”

“It was me.”

    George was shaking. His shoulders tight and lifted and showing more and more of his fear.

“It was me— I arrested him. I— He was on his knees and I— And he—”

“George, breathe.”

    He was starting to hyperventilate. He was going to make himself sick or pass out. 

“I should have just gone to bed. We should’ve just gone to sleep. It would have been perfect but now I—”

“George—”

“It wasn’t him, James. It wasn’t him. Francis it wasn’t—”

    They didn’t know what he was talking about. Half the things coming out of his mouth didn’t make sense but James could see the way his chest was heaving and if he didn’t get him to start breathing and actually talking soon then it was going to be worse. 

“George, you—”

“He would have been killed.”

“Who?”

    If there was an intruder then they needed answers. 

“She would have killed him and I can’t— I couldn’t—”

“Take a breath—”

“I didn’t tell him I loved him.”

    James took a step. George took one back. His leg shaking enough to make his knee give on him and he was crumpling to the floor. James caught him before he could hit. Wrapping his arms around him and trying to ease him as he sobbed. 

“Francis, water?”

    His knight was nodding. Moving to get some for them before George passed out from dehydration. If he was talking about them having gone to bed instead of what apparently happened then this had been the whole night. George was like this for hours, minimum, given the way he was acting and looked. He needed help. He needed comfort. Or he was going to land himself straight into the infirmary beside his father.  

“George?”

“I’m hurting him, James.”

“Walk me through what happened. Tell me what’s going on. Let me help.”

    There was only so much he could do if he didn’t know what the situation was. If he didn’t know the problem he wouldn’t be able to know how to help. If Dream was in danger then they had to do something and with the way George was reacting he couldn’t let it keep going. He couldn’t protect him if he didn’t know what he was protecting him from. 

“Dream and I had been taking a bath.”

    Francis came back to them with the water. He was looking more and more concerned as the moments went by but he didn’t say a word. They both needed the information if they were going to protect their friends. 

“We were summoned to the throne room like we’d planned but Dream was actually relaxing and, God, I couldn’t take that from him. So I went down alone. But when—” His breathing hitched. “When I got there my mom and Ant were looking the plans over and the way they looked—”

    He cut himself off. Clinging onto him tighter and James held him back all the same. Right now George needed his support and he was going to be damned if he didn’t give it. 

“Ant told me that Dream was in the gardens when the first bombs went off. That that’s what all the knights he talked to had said.”

    He didn’t see why that mattered. 

“Okay?”

“Dream ordered a guard to tell me he was in the library.”

    James looked at Francis. Both of them knew what that would mean. For a knight to be lying to their royal about where they were in a time like this. It didn’t paint the prettiest of pictures for them. He believed in Dream. He knew that Francis did too and from how George was reacting he knew that he did as well. All three of them were on Dream’s side. 

    It would take all the Gods and Stars together to make Dream turn from George’s side. Even then he knew the knight would fight. 

“I tried to explain it to them but they way they talked about him.”

    Queen Genevieve loved Dream. She saw him like a son. She had to know that he wouldn’t be doing any of this intentionally. If there was going to be a way for Dream to be involved in this then it was going to have to be through the serum. It would need to be through something else. Dream would never be doing this on his own. Never. 

“Dream was going to be killed. If I hadn’t—”

“They wouldn’t have killed him.”

“No, James, you don’t understand.”

    Dream was the Leading Knight. He was Central’s motivation in the war. He was practically the face of their entire military despite wearing his mask nearly constantly. He was the one that all the knights looked to. He was the one that everyone had a vested interest in by this point. If they killed him then that was going to raise far more questions than anything else. 

    If they were already being attacked then killing Dream was the last thing any of them wanted. 

    James knew what he was like on a battlefield. Francis had seen him first hand. Both of them knew exactly how terrifying Dream was in a war. How he would slaughter and kill and how nearly nothing could ever get to him. There was a reason the East called him Death. There was a reason they give him the titles they did. 

    He didn’t know what in that he failed to understand. 

“When my parents were courting my mother killed her own knights to defend him.”

    He nodded. Almost everyone in the Compass knew the story. It had been fairly big news and he’d heard his advisors talk about it in the East as well. He knew the tales of her. He knew that she was called Stained Queen for a reason. 

“They weren’t just random knights. They were people that had been her friends. She was close with them. She was—”

    The pieces began to fall into place. 

“To protect my father there’s no one she wouldn’t kill.”

    Love in its most violent and pure form. As much as James wanted to say it was horrible. As much as he wanted to fight. He knew that he couldn’t. If someone threatened Francis, he would fight back. If anyone laid a hand on him he would fight until they were dead and gone. 

    He knew George would do the same. 

    He saw the destruction rolling through him. 

“If they got him to admit it she was going to kill him in the throne room.”

    George sobbed. Heaving into him and James held him closer. 

“Her and Ant. They were ready. They had her guard. They—”

    Was Dream hurt? Was he in the dungeons and hurt.?

“He wasn’t in armor. He looked so content when he was coming in. I saw him. I saw him and he smiled and it’s been so long since he smiled like that and I—”

    James felt his heart breaking for his friend. 

“I couldn't look. After that I couldn’t look because if he was smiling and they killed him like that I couldn’t—”

    If Dream had an execution threat on him they needed to know he was actually safe in the dungeons. They needed to know he wasn’t being hurt or worse down there right now. 

“I had to ask. The only way he was getting out alive was if I played along like I was upset too. Like I was going to agree. I didn’t. I don’t.”

    He knew. The red and wet all over his face told that more than enough. 

“Dream didn’t do this. I had to—” He looked like he choked himself. “I had to bring up the serum. I had to— Dream’s so scared of that and I had to say it so he wouldn’t be killed.”

    George’s shaking grew worse. His skin was too warm. He was too worked up. 

“He told me he loved me and I couldn’t say it back.”

    James breathed. 

“Why? If you had the serum as a guard then—”

“My mother wouldn’t let me prove him innocent if she knew I was still biased. If she thought I chose Dream over dad. If I— She loves him. She knows I love Dream. But I couldn’t—”

    All the weight. All the pain. 

    All the doubt and the horror they’d seen and been through. 

“If I called in the guards they’d listen to my order. If my mother then hers.”

    Queen Genevieve was not bad. She was doing exactly what James would have done should Francis ever be laying with an arrow through his chest. 

“I had them arrest him. If he was arrested then he was safe in the cell and he wasn’t dead and I—”

    George wanted to see him. He wanted to go to him. He could see it so clearly on his face that he’d been wanting to be beside him the entire night since this happened and yet he’d stopped himself. 

    He’d come here instead. 

“What do you need?”

    He was going to help. However he could help, he wanted to. George was his friend. Dream was his friend. He cared about them. He wanted them safe. 

    George took a breath. Then two. Shaking both times as he tried to swallow back his tears but when he finally got them through he was looking up between the two of them. Hands balled into fists over the fabric on his thighs. He looked heartbroken. He looked shattered. 

“I can’t go to the cells. Not without too much attention and I can’t—”

“For the same reason you couldn’t tell him you love him back.”

    James watched more tears fall. Streaking silently down George’s face and splattering onto the wood beneath them. 

“He won’t want to see me.”

    James firmly believed that was wrong. He didn’t think there was anything in the world that could stop Dream from wanting George. Just as there was nothing that could keep George from wanting Dream. 

“Francis, you’re close with him. He might listen to you. I know you don’t—”

“I’ll go.”

    Francis was already moving. Getting a shirt on over his wings and shifting his anatomy until things were more comfortable for a day through the palace. 

“I need to know he’s alright.”

“I’ll do whatever I can.”

    He knew already he’d have his blessing. Part of their bond that James was forever thankful for. Francis got into trouble and James would know about it almost immediately. If his lover was in danger then he knew. If James was in trouble then his knight would come running. 

    If Francis saw anything down in the dungeons then he would be able to tell him. He’d have James’ blessing. He didn’t mind calling the Eastern knights to defense if they had to come to that. 

“Wear armor.”

    George was watching them both. James saw the circles weighing heavy under his eyes. 

“Do you want me to be armed?”

    For Dream’s sake it could go either way. He’d think Francis was there to hurt him. If there was danger then Francis would need the weapon in order to protect them both. 

“George?”

“Bring one.” He took a deep breath. Rattling in his lungs like he’d breathed too many of his own tears. “Tell the guards you’re there on my orders. Call it an interrogation if you have to but get them to leave him alone with you so he can breathe.”

    George loved Dream so much. The pain on his face was ripping James apart. 

    Francis was nodding. He was ready. He was bracing. Kneeling down to the ground beside them and sending assurance through the bond. 

    Francis would take care of Dream. 

    James would take care of George. 

“What do you want me to tell him?”

    Francis kept his steps light. Armored still and guarded but he was ready for what was to come. He was ready for this fight. 

    He was worried. 

    Worried about what he was going to find when he found Dream. 

    He was going to hold out his hope that Dream wasn’t dead. That he hadn’t been executed. It wouldn’t be the move to make. They wouldn’t let the face of their military be executed for treason they couldn’t fully prove. 

    As much as knew that Dream was going to be hurt by the serum being brought up. As much as he knew that his friend was terrified by the thought of that alone. He also knew that it was the only way to save his life. 

    Right now his job was to make sure that Dream knew that. 

    Getting past the guards was easy enough. Francis knew to be watching them. He knew to be keeping an eye. .But he was also in the markings of a Lead and he knew how to hide his intent through his voice. How to make it sound like he was investigating an attack that could have killed him and his own royal before anything else. 

    To let the fact that he and Dream were close hide in the back of his throat. 

    He hid it like a lie. 

    It wasn’t a lie. 

    Francis made his way to the cell with his nerves looping around his heart like a leash. He was worried about Dream he wasn’t going to deny that. From the moment they’d been in the infirmary together getting waters for everyone and he’d seen his friend collapse. He knew that Dream was struggling. He knew he was doing his best to recover from the things that were done to him. 

    But that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to take the time to do it. 

    Dream pushed himself to be fine and ready and able to fight at a moment’s notice. He pushed so that he would be the best of the best no matter what could be happening to him. He was a fighter through to his heart. 

    The only thing Francis thought might be able to break that was George. 

    What he’d done had saved Dream’s life. It was the only option that he’d had. He’d known what the other option was. He’d known what the guards were there for. In order for him to keep everything together and keep Dream breathing this was the way it had to be. 

    Even though it meant planting a doubt that was already there. Watering the fear and giving it a foothold to take over and consume him. They didn’t want that for Dream. None of them did. They cared about him and they wanted him happy and safe. 

    He was hoping that his friend would just listen to him for this so he knew that it wasn’t the end. 

    That’s all he was hoping for. 

    Coming around to the cell, he worried he might not get that wish. 

    All he heard was silence. He barely even heard breathing coming from the cell. With the way George had been he was expecting something similar from Dream down here. Crying and panicking or at least something that would indicate his condition. Instead all he had was nothing. 

    The smell of the carved earth behind the stone. The cold draft that was wafting around him. He wanted to shiver even inside his armor. If Dream was in night clothes like George had been then he was going to be freezing down here. 

    He doubted if the Queen was ready to execute him that she would allow him an extra blanket. Even with all the service he’d done. Even with all the proof he’d given of his loyalties. 

    Love blinded people. 

    Francis and James had done horrible things in the war. He knew that. They both did. In the war they had with Central the two of them had been true to half the rumors Central had of them. They were bloodthirsty. They clung to each other. They didn’t let anyone near them. What Central’s Queen was doing now was well and the same. She was protecting her King. She was protecting her heart. 

“Dream?”

    He kept his voice quiet. If his friend had managed to fall asleep and get himself some semblance of peace while he was down here he wasn’t wanting to disturb that. Dream had been having a hard enough time when it came to sleeping lately. A lot of them knew it. They knew how tired he looked and they knew how he acted when it was getting to him. They were aware of it. They couldn’t help it. 

    Francis wasn’t going to hurt him more than he already was. 

    He was going to do everything he could to do the opposite in fact. 

“Dream?”

    He was expecting to land eyes on him and see him laying down. Facing the wall or something and showing him sleeping. He had expected that he would be resting and probably with tear tracks drying on his face. He knew that the chances of Dream being alright down here were slim to none but he was going to try to hold out his hope. He was going to try to do his best. 

    He thought he’d find Dream sleeping. 

    He found him sitting up awake. 

    Dream, tucked into the corner sitting on the cot with his knees brought up to his chest. His head against the wall and his back straight. He saw his nails digging hard into his legs where his arms wrapped around them to hold them in place. He saw the way his muscles were twitching like they were locked into place. 

    He saw the hollow look in his eyes. 

“Dream.”

    This time Francis put more weight into his name. He pushed his voice to carry just a little bit louder so that he could try to get through to his friend. The longer he watched him the more his worry grew. 

    Dream didn’t even look like he knew that he was there. He was staring and watching but there wasn’t any recognition. He was like a doll just watching into the other side of the hallway and cells. Like he wasn’t even really in there anymore. 

“Dream, can you hear me?”

    He knew this could happen. The days where he was having a harder time and he was dissociated most of the time. He knew it was a risk but with everything else that was happening he had to be asking himself if this was simply that or if it could be more. 

    What their dangers were. 

    He didn’t get a response. Nothing from his friend and he bit his tongue trying to figure out what he should say or do next. 

    If he broke into the cell to try to help him then he could be seen as a traitor as well and James might have to lock him up for the sake of protecting Dream and him. James might be the leading crown of the East. He might be the strongest force there. They weren’t in the East. They were in Central and if the Central Queen ordered him a traitor and wanted his head it would either be war or acceptance. 

    Right now they couldn’t afford war. 

    If he went to find a medic to get Dream help it could lead to other questions. This had clearly happened during the night and he didn’t know if anyone else knew. He doubted it. 

    The thought of Dream’s squire’s passed through his mind. What they would do. What they would say. He hoped they treated George kindly. That they understood this wasn’t his fault and that he’d only done what he did because the alternative was death to Dream. 

“Dream, if you can hear me, give me a sign.”

    He got nothing from his friend. 

    A slow blink before his eyes were right back to staring where they’d been before. He couldn’t tell if this was the serum, a panic attack, something more. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. But Dream was breathing. He didn’t look like he was struggling. Slow and steady and so quiet. 

    He was ordered to give a message down here. He was ordered to be getting to Dream and letting him know what was going on. What was happening. 

    Why George had done what he’d done. 

    To tell him the truth. 

    He checked the halls again to make sure that they were really on their own. To ensure that no one else was going to hear the treason that he was about to say. He knew that there was a risk when it was royal against royal and he knew that their people might have to choose a side. He was going to do everything in his power to ensure that George and Dream were the side that won. 

    He was going to fight to make sure that Dream was going to make it out of this. That he wasn’t going to lose himself to his own fear. 

“You’re going to be alright, okay?”

    He hoped that Dream could hear him. 

    He’d been going to the infirmary on a daily basis to be checked for the serum. The odds of him being at all involved even with the serum were slim to none. There was nearly no way to get to him. But he knew Dream well enough to know that that didn’t matter to him. He was going to hear the chance that it could be there and he was going to hate himself for it. He was going to beat and berate himself for the act like it was something to do with his strength. 

    Like if he loved them a little more he’d be able to resist. 

    That’s not how it worked. Dream made it through fighting the first times because he’d bled it out and then because of how weak the dosage was and being able to catch onto it before it took hold. Any other situation and he would have been lost. 

    They all knew that before. It shouldn’t change now. 

“George loves you, you know.”

    He had to make sure he knew.

“He only arrested you because it was the only way out.”

    It didn’t really make it better to say. He was hesitating to give the full details. He didn’t even know if Dream could hear him right now. The more times he had to say this the more chances they had to be caught on what their plan was. 

    They had to mitigate and they had to fight where they can. 

    So he’d stick to the most important things for now. 

    He’d focus into saying the things that anyone in the palace could put together on their own. 

“We’re going to figure out what’s happening. Okay?”

    Nothing. Not a single ounce of reaction from him. 

    The longer he stared at his empty eyes the more he worried for him. He knew it was likely the serum. He knew it could be panic. He knew that Dream might just be dissociating right now because of the cell. 

    Francis himself wasn’t exactly fond of seeing cells again after the arena. He couldn’t say he’d be doing much better if he and Dream traded their places. If he’d had James do what George had been forced to do. If he’d be able to even keep breathing if it were him. 

“We’re going to figure this out. Trust me.”

    He was talking like Dream was answering him. It made him feel better. To have that other person there to at least just watch the things he was doing. Even if they weren’t really there. 

    Multiple times in war there were Eastern knights who would talk to the corpses they were digging graves for. Asking them if they thought it was deep enough or where the good place to dig would be. They would talk to them like they were getting answers but it was just for the sake of their own comforts. 

    Nothing more and nothing less. 

“George loves you.”

    He couldn’t let Dream think anything else. 

“He’s trying to save you. He’s working to straighten this out.”

    Dream’s hands twitched. He saw a muscle in the side of his neck spasm. His eyes still stayed just as distant. 

“We’re not going to let you stay down here, Dream.”

    He needed him to understand. He didn’t want to leave Dream thinking that they were going to let him just rot down here. That they were going to move on from him now. 

    Francis knew the things that Dream was afraid of. He knew that the arena had given him the fears of being replaced and that being weak. Too weak to defend himself. 

    The alchemy had given that to the both of them. 

    Even now there were days where Francis felt the pain of the alchemy that was done on them. He knew that Dream had had more sessions done on him. He knew that the things that happened to them had been horrid and painful. 

    Dream was afraid to be used. 

    Most knights were after the reveal of the serum. Dream had been through it. He’d lived through it and made it out on the other side and now they just had to make sure he knew there was a reason to keep being on this side. 

    To not let the thoughts in his head ruin him. 

“Dream?”

    He wanted to see his friend. 

    Francis missed his friend. 

“I’m coming back. To check on you. I’m going to do what I can, okay?”

    He wasn’t going to leave him alone. He wasn’t going to let him think he was alone. 

“We’re going to fix this.”

    It was the only option they had. 

“We all know you’re innocent.”

    They were going to have to convince Dream that he was innocent at this rate. He was going to be their hardest judge. 

“George loves you.”

    His most important note. 

“George is fighting for you, Dream.”

    Nothing. There was nothing in him left. 

“Fight for him too.” Their fight for Dream. “We’ll get you out. Trust me.”

    He had his hope. Francis refused to give up his hope. 

    Dream would scoff at him. Insult him. Berate him. He wasn’t right now. 

    Francis turned to leave. He felt his own heart aching at seeing his friend like this but right now there wasn’t anything left that he could do. Right now there was no other choice. 

    So Francis left. 

    He didn’t see Dream’s tears slip down his cheeks after. He didn’t see him rest his head on his knees. He didn’t hear him sob. He didn’t hear his broken words. Whispered and hoarse. Dying on bitten lips. 

“Thank you.”

Chapter Text

    Sam started his morning softly. Listening to the breathing beside him and looking into his arms to find Ponk still sleeping against him. He breathed the air of his room. Feeling the weight as it stretched out his lungs and he woke his body up. Getting himself to move and his body to run. He was sore. Deep aches that he knew were from being thrown by the explosion he survived. His leg had dulled by now but he knew it wouldn’t stay that way. The moment he started moving it was going to remember that he’d been shot. 

    He unraveled himself regardless. Stretching himself out carefully and rolling his head on his shoulders. Relishing in the feelings that were old and familiar to him after all his years of training and specializing. 

    Their home had been attacked twice and they were still standing. 

    The chances of them being attacked again today were high. 

    Dream was going to need help leading their people through this. He wasn’t going to force his son to do it alone. Not when he knew he was still recovering. When he knew that there was a chance Dream might not wake up to them and instead to flashbacks and dissociation. 

    He’d start the day by checking in with his son. To make sure that Dream was alright and that things weren’t going wrong for him. He knew that his boy was struggling but at the same time he was the Leading Knight and yesterday he had shown it. He’d done a good job at displaying his strength and skill. His fighting and his leadership. Dream had seemed normal yesterday. 

    Sam just wanted to be sure. 

    He’d get the Bench together. Maybe he’d even take them to go check in with Dream. They hadn’t really been all together since the arena. All of them doing their recoveries at their own paces. It was stiff for them but yesterday had been a shift. Showing them that they were all still there. Pushing them together. The best bond between knights, the bond of a fight. 

    Their home. 

    He looked down to Ponk where he was still sleeping. Watching him breathe and seeing him actually relax and drop the frown and stress off his face. The second he woke up it would be back. It’d be there a little bit before he even fully came back around. He was too stubborn to let himself just be happy. 

“See you later, Ponkie.” Sam moved for the door. “Love you.”

    He whispered it. A way to tell him without disturbing him and without pressuring him to say it back. Something that eased the dredges of Sam’s own heart that he held for himself in private. 

    He left the room after that. Stretching his arms back in the hall of the barracks and feeling his back pop at the feeling. He was ready for this. Ready for the fights that were coming for them. Ready for the struggles they were going to be having. His leg was hurting. He could feel it already. But the potions he had from Ponk would tide him over as he worked through the day. 

    The shot wasn’t bad. Clean, all things considered. Like the archer wanted to just take him out of that fight and not anything else. It raised questions about it but he could still manage and he wasn’t going to garner sympathy for the people responsible for something like this. 

    Sam had expected looks when he stepped out into the yard. He’d been braced for them. It was only natural when he knew that the people knew he’d been hurt in the attack. The infirmary needed the beds for more important things. People who were actually wounded and couldn’t walk it off. 

    A clean arrow shot into his leg? He could take potions and walk it off. Nearly having your leg torn off and thrown off the side of a wall? Punz needed that bed more than he did. Shot through the chest? His King needed it more. Missing. Fallen off the wall and missing. Bad would need that bed more once they found him. 

    Sam expected to get looks. He even knew what they would be before he stepped out. Raised eyebrows and signs of impressing and maybe even some critique by the knights medics that would be milling about. Instead what he saw was concern. Staring at him like they were caught in a conversation he was never meant to hear. He kept his eyes on the move. Looking to see if the Bench were already up and out and were causing trouble.. He knew he couldn’t be sure with the three of them. 

    He didn’t see them. 

    The whispers were scattered. Hush and too quiet for him to hear until he managed to hear someone whisper Dream’s name. Another person comment about him being his knight. About the shot he’d taken. 

“—His own knight—”

    Nerves lit across his gut. Something was wrong with this. Their people wouldn’t be talking like this unless there was something more going on. He tried to look to see if he could spot Dream anywhere but he couldn’t. So instead he went to a group of guards that were seemingly in an intense whispered discussion. Glances occasionally thrown to see if he was watching them. Sam just knew how to hide his intent. How to hide his steps. How to get to them without them noticing until it was too late. 

    He’d trained Dream in stealth, after all. 

“What is it?”

    The guards nearly jumped out of their own skin. Sam wasn’t impressed. 

“Sir—”

“We didn’t mean anything by it—”

“We’re sorry sir we just saw him and we—”

    His heart was twisting into knots in his chest. 

“What are you talking about?”

    All three of them paused. Looking between each other and the one closest to him biting his lip and worrying over it. 

“You don’t know?”

    Sam let himself glare. The same look that Boomer and Five dubbed the ‘dad look’ for him. Disapproving and dangerous and it got every knight and squire to break so far. The only one who sometimes resisted was Dream but he’d cave if Sam didn’t let up. 

“Sir Dream was arrested last night.”

    Sam felt his stomach drop. His heart skipping over in his chest as he thought about Ethan and Zach at the end of the war with the East. He remembered months ago now and getting Zach out of the cell. Finding him and the blood paintings that had been on the wall. How he’d blindfolded himself. How the prison was killing him. 

“For what? Why? By who?”

“The Prince ordered it.” 

    If George did it then there was a damn good reason.

“The Queen had them on standby but the Prince gave the order.”

“It was treason.”

    Sam’s hands went cold. 

    A knight that was highly ranked being arrested for treason was the bottom of what scum could be. They were the worst thing that someone could be in a cell. Knights were the enforcers of the law. For one like Dream? One where he was the face of the war and the morale of the nation. Where he was the reason many of these people enlisted. The reason many lost their lives. For him to be arrested for treason and locked away in a cell? 

    He would be stripped of armor. Stripped of weapons. He’d have nothing to defend himself with and he was still recovering. 

    He would be killed. 

    He needed to find Genevieve. He needed to know what was going on. 

    Leaving the guards and searching the yard for his Queen was easy. Sam needed answers. He knew the places she would be right now. He knew that if he couldn’t find her he could find George. Something was going on. Knights and guards finding out about it meant that their people would. The guards that did the arrest must have talked. They didn’t keep things secret. They weren’t protecting the man they should be. 

    Dream should still be protected. 

    The only way he’d actually commit treason was against his own will. If Dream’s will was being used then they had a larger issue of someone having the serum still. They had the issue of saving him from himself. 

    Each step Sam took had him feeling like the world was caving in. He wasn’t going to take much more of this if he couldn’t find one of his royals soon. He’d head to the infirmary then. He’d check in on Ethan and see how he was doing and the chances he’d find his Queen beside him were higher than nearly any other place she would be right now. 

    He just didn’t have to travel that far. 

    He’d been just about to turn into the palace when he heard her up above. Backing away and looking up, Sam saw her in the archways beside the palace steps. She was standing there with Ant by her side. They looked like they were finishing their conversation. They were going to split up and leave. 

    He watched her turn away. 

“Majesty!”

    He didn’t care if he was going to turn heads. Right now he needed answers and that was the most important thing to him. He didn’t care about anything else. Just getting the information that he needed in order to figure out what was going on and help Dream. 

    Part of him was praying that this was one of Dream’s convoluted plans. That he was fine and safe and hidden up in George’s room. That he was lounging and relaxing for the day and that they’d done this as a way to draw out the enemies thinking they were safe. He hoped that this was just one of his son’s stupid but brilliant ideas that he used himself as a sacrificial pawn. 

    He had the feeling he was wrong. 

“Sam.”

    The heartbreak on her face and in her voice told him she knew exactly what he was here for. He wondered for a moment how much of it was on his own face. How much he was showing to her. 

“Dream—”

“Come with me.”

    They took a few steps back. Pulling off of the main tread and more to have silence and privacy with each other. The wind would not carry their whispers. The servants and staff would all avoid them from their conversation here. They’d be safe to speak. 

“What happened?”

“What have you heard?”

    A baseline. She was getting his baseline. 

“That you and George had him arrested last night. For treason?”

    Grief passed over her eyes. 

“None of us wanted this, Sam.”

“What happened.” 

    He wasn’t going to ask for something like this. He needed the information and she was going to give it to him. Right now he didn’t care that she was his Queen. Right now they were going to have this conversation as parents. As friends. 

“Ant was taking reports from others around the palace about the attacks. Dream lied about where he was when they began. When we asked him about it later, he refused to admit it.”

    There were a hundred reasons he could think of right in this second that Dream would do something like that. The most notable being what he used to do as a squire. He’d lie and say that he was resting when he was going out to train. He would lie when he needed something that he thought he would be punished for. He’d lie about his location to get himself away to do something he knew he wasn’t supposed to but that he needed all the same. For now? Given the way Dream had avoided many of them recently, he’d say it was to be alone. 

“That doesn’t mean he commit treason—”

“It wasn’t just that.”

    She looked hurt by the accusation. 

“I love Dream like a son, Sam, you know that.”

    He did. 

“If it was just that I would have never—”

    But it wasn’t just that. 

“Ant checked his room in the barracks.”

    Sam bit his tongue on the things he wanted to say. His emotions could wait. Right now the only thing that actually mattered was helping his son get out of the situation he’d found himself in. 

“He was just looking to see if there was a reason he’d have gone to the gardens instead. Anything that could have marked him. If he was in the library like we thought they were bombed hard which meant he was a target. So Ant was looking for any marks that they’d gone to the barracks to find him.”

    It made sense. Trying to figure out who their enemy was was hard enough. They needed any clue they could get and Dream not being where he was expected to be could be exactly the slip they needed to figure it out. 

“Ant found letters in there, Sam.”

    His nerves lit fire around his heart. 

“What kind of letters?”

    She looked stressed. Tired. Like she hadn’t slept through the night and for a moment Sam wondered if any of them involved had. George was certain to be distraught. Dream, he barely wanted to imagine. 

“Letters of a conversation. We don’t know the seal that was marked on them and we don’t know the handwriting. But they’re talking to Dream and they’re discussing the confirmations of the plan.”

“They could be planted.”

“I thought so too.”

    She looked him in the eye. 

“We found recent letters from Dream.”

    Sam refused it. His voice betrayed his fear regardless.

“From?”

“It’s his handwriting.”

    Serum. It had to be serum. There wasn’t another way.

“What did they say?”

    She looked more and more distressed by the moment. 

“He was answering the other letters. Confirming he’d be outside in the garden instead of in the library. That he wouldn’t be expected in the fight so he could get more of them inside to attack. That he would ensure Ethan wasn’t in armor so he could be—”

    Dream wouldn’t. 

“No.” Sam refused. “You have to be wrong. It couldn’t be him. Why would he—”

“In his letter he said it was to get Central proper power.” Her voice was shaking. She reached to hold herself. “That the West had shown him ‘true strength’ in the arena and he wanted George on the throne to be ours.”

    Dream loved Ethan and Genevieve. He saw them like parents. He cared about them. He laughed with them. 

    All of them ate dinners together like a family oftentimes on the royal floor. 

    He wouldn’t do this.  

“He still wouldn’t—”

“He promised me George would be safe with him before they went to George’s room to clean up before our meeting. That’s when Ant found these.”

“So you know that he wouldn’t—”

“Ant found a letter written recent enough the ink was hadn’t fully set. It said that George was being too weak. That he was failing as acting King. That he would kill him when the two of them were alone.”

    Dream would never hurt George. He would never—

    Not long ago he’d had his hands wrapped around their Prince’s throat. Not long ago Dream had been under the serum with the order to murder his royal. 

“You’re sure?”

“You’d rather I’d taken the chance?”

    His heart ached for the knowledge that if it were anyone but his son he’d have agreed immediately. He wouldn’t have even hesitated. It would be common sense. To arrest the threat that was endangering the crowns. Protect the royals and the sole heir of their nation. It was the only way. 

“I don’t think it’s Dream either, Sam.”

    He looked at her. He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath. 

“I don’t want it to be him, but—”

“The serum.” He cut her off. “It’s the only way.”

“I know.”

    Dream was in a cell. He might not even know why. 

“We’re having all his food and water tested. We’re making sure he’s safe in the cell. They can’t use him if he isn’t seen as a piece to be used.”

“He can’t—”

“Sam.”

    He looked at her. His eyes stinging before he felt a tear slip down his cheek. His Queen wiped it away. 

“We all love Dream. We want him safe.”

“Alone in a cell?”

“Do you have another way to protect him? Protect George, and Ethan, all our people, all our knights?”

    He didn’t. 

    Dream was a military genius. He was an awestricking combatant. Even wounded and recovering Dream was worth an army by himself. He’d proven that in the stories he heard about his fighting after the capital was bombed. Dream was terrifying as an opponent. It’s why he and Ethan had trained each other to be ready to kill him if the time ever came. 

    He didn’t want the time to come. 

    He refused to believe it was now. 

“How’s George?”

    She nearly looked like she laughed. 

“Distraught.” She took a breath. “After Dream was taken away he was shaking enough I thought he was going to fall. He wouldn’t let Ant or I touch him. He locked himself in his study. I’ve been giving him space.”

“Does he know about the letters?”

    She shook her head. 

“We didn’t show them to him because we knew Dream was coming down and we wanted to hear his side before we altered his answers at all. We told George about his location. The line ups. The fact that it was Dream’s plan to attack the palace he made ages ago.”

    Sam felt himself go stiff. Another detail. Another layer of evidence. The stack seemed insurmountable. 

“I—”

    The horns blasted out from the main gate. Alarms and warnings that sent all of the knights in the yard on edge. Out of instinct Sam was placing himself in front of Genevieve. Trying to protect her and trying to defend from the threat that was coming. 

    Only it wasn’t another attack he saw coming in through the gate. 

    It was Northern armor. 

“Edward.”

    Genevieve was moving around him. Running down the steps and onto the front walk to greet him. Sam followed. Enough time to see allies intercept one another and wounded being handed off to medics that were briefed and ready for this. 

    He saw Princess Hannah hovering beside a stretcher as it was being carried. He saw Oliver laying all too still on the cloth. 

“Where is he?”

    The demand and the worry. The sound of the Northern King’s fear as Sam turned and found the man with his arms braced along his Queen’s.

“The infirmary—”

“Can I see him?”

    His Queen looked to him. Eyes pleading and Sam understood her in a second. 

“We’ll talk later.”

    Their conversation wasn’t done. But one thing was more than certain. 

    He was going to see his son.

    Dream kept himself breathing. Forcing his lungs to stay even despite the welling panic that was building in his chest. He kept himself moving as much as he could. The exhaustion pulling at him and pulsing through his body. His eyes felt like he’d fallen into sand each and every time he went to close his eyes. Begging him to rest but he pulled them open moments after. 

    He couldn’t tell time down here. 

    The cells had no windows. Underground so that no one could blow a hole through the walls to break someone out. They had their advantage in certain areas but in others? 

    Dream felt the weight of being more than just a prisoner down here. 

    For the guards that had arrested him he was a traitor. He’d commit treason. There were deaths in the city and in the yard. There were homes that were destroyed. Just because the plan was for minimal casualties didn’t mean that it wasn’t changed in that way by the people that actually implemented it. 

    The people that knew about the plan were innocent. 

    This wouldn’t have been done by anyone in Central. They had no reason to be destroying their home. They wouldn’t hurt their people. 

    They loved their country too much to harm it. 

    Their royals. Their people. Their home. 

    Dream kept his hands moving. Digging his nails into his palms over the old scarring that was there and forcing them straight when he knew his family would catch him immediately as soon as they saw him. 

    If they saw him. 

    He was guessing for the time. He figured the rest of the night had passed. He figured he was into the morning. Past sunrise if he had to guess. 

    No one had come down yet. 

    He’d sat on the bed for a while. Trying to sort out the plan and giving his leg a minute to rest when it started cramping and sending sparks of pain through his knee and up through his hip. He hadn’t seen anyone. He hadn’t talked to anyone. 

    The last words that were said to him were from George and he—

    Dream swallowed. He dug his nails into the sides of his legs. His gloves abandoned on the foot of the bed. Dream ignored the way his hands shook. He ignored the hurt in his heart when he kept replaying the events that happened.

    If he was going to make it out of this he needed to be planning. He had to figure out what was going on. He needed to know what he was doing and he needed to know what evidence there was that would push George to arresting him. It had to be more than him just being in the gardens and the plans matching. 

    Dream groaned in frustration. Body turning to pace the cell and hands going up to claw against his scalp and pull at his hair. It felt nice. Not the same comfort that it was when it was George’s fingers massaging through his hair in their bath but something to allow him to focus a bit more into what he had to be doing right now. 

    Focus. 

    What more would there be. What could have gotten even George to sentence him. He’d been crying when he did it. He was hurt by it. What would have made him think Dream turned. What would have made him believe it was the serum.

“I love you.”

“I can’t.”

    Their final words to each other. Each time they passed through his mind he felt his heart skip. It hurt to think about but he didn’t know what else he was meant to be doing with himself. He didn’t know if there was anything he could do. 

    Not until he heard the footsteps in the hall. Bouncing and echoing off the stone and reminding him of what it was like in the cave over a year ago. Sitting there and listening to the guards talk and move beyond the entrance. He remembered laying there with his blood drying into the stone and the heat of the fire and the smell of mold. It smelled damp back here. The gray and cold of the stone felt like they were falling on him. 

    If he closed his eyes would he be back? If he closed his eyes would he open them to Oliver shaking him awake?

“Dream?”

    He flinched. Turning towards the bars of the cell and freezing the moment he saw who was on the other side. 

“Sam?”

“Are you alright?”

    He was shaking. His heart hadn’t stopped skipping, his lungs hurt when he breathed, he couldn’t close his eyes without nightmares swallowing him alive. His head hurt, his leg, his side, his back, his neck.

“I’m alright.”

    Just another lie he could tell to his family then.

    Sam stared at him for a few moments. Taking him in until it almost felt like his old knight was examining him. Like he was just trying to take him into every last feature. 

    Dream already felt backed into a corner. Now he was quite literally locked in a corner cell and he’d been battling out a panic since it happened. He wasn’t exactly in the mood for it. 

“Here to find your treasonous squire?”

    Sam frowned at him. He looked sad.

“I’m here to protect my son.”

    Dream closed his eyes. Turning away from Sam and feeling the pain sparking and lancing down his neck and through his arm. He squeezed his other hand into a fist to dig his nails into his palm. 

“I’m not under the serum.”

    His thoughts didn’t feel like then. He felt normal. He felt alright. He wasn’t clouded and he didn’t have the urge to be finding anyone like he did when Parker had ruined him in the arena. He didn’t want anyone but George and that wasn’t even an option he was going to allow his thoughts to go to. 

“Then you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t know.”

    He was desperate. Frustration leaking through his eyes and Dream scrubbed at his face to take it away. He didn’t want to show himself any weaker than he already had but he didn’t know what else to do. He was trapped and scared and desperate and he didn’t want to deal with any of this anymore. He just wanted to be done. 

    Sam at least had pity on him. 

“Walk me through what you know.”

    Dream took a breath. This was a chance he wasn’t getting in the throne room before. So he did. He told him about what he was feeling and that he was sorry for lying about where he was but he didn’t know what else to do. He explained that he was in the gardens just to breathe and relax. That he’d had Mars and Techno both with him when the smoke bombs first went off. He’d fought his way around. He hadn’t missing any notable amount of time. He hadn’t talked to anyone that was suspicious or outside of their circle really. A few knights here and there when the fighting and aftermath was going through. Otherwise? 

“So you didn’t write letters.”

“Letters?”

    He didn’t hide his confusion. Sam breathed a bit. He was believing him. 

“Letters were found in your room. It looks like your handwriting. It’s detailing about the attack and a confirmation that you’d keep Ethan without armor.”

    Sam wasn’t even telling him everything. He could tell that much from the look on his face but Dream wasn’t going to push it. He wasn’t even sure his knight was meant to be down here in the first place. He wasn’t sure he was going to be safe just by talking to him or telling him anything about this.

“I didn’t write any letters.”

“As far as you know.”

    Dream closed his eyes again. He squeezed them in his frustration. When he opened them again he was blinking away spots. 

“I’m not under the serum. Phil would have caught it. I have to go every single day. This is the one day I’m not in the infirmary being checked over. Why is it so hard to believe?”

“Because someone could have made a new strain that we can’t detect. And right now the evidence is stacked and we don’t—”

“The evidence is planted.”

“I believe you.”

    He took a breath. Scared and yet steadying. Dream tried to make sure he kept himself breathing. That he stopped the panic from taking over and forced himself to be calm with the things that were going on. He didn’t want this as much as Sam didn’t. He knew that. He needed to let his dad help him. He needed to learn how not to fight. 

“I’m not missing any time.”

“I believe you.”

    He was awake the whole time through the night. Sam was just the first person to come down here and see him that he could actually explain his side. 

“I don’t know who it could be but they have to know something about the inner workings of the palace that’s the only way all of this works.”

“They had to get your old plan.”

    It was in the royal war room. Normal circumstances that would be well hidden and locked and no one could go in without a crown with them but during the war they were having with the West it was open for the commanders and generals and captains to get in and plan the attacks in secret. Any number of their military could have gotten in. Any staff that snuck in with it. 

    There wasn’t a way to narrow it down. They trusted their people. They were paying for it. 

“Yours was under lock. Someone had to know it was there.”

    He nodded. He didn’t know the number of people that knew it was there. It wouldn’t be an unreasonable guess considering the amount of contingency plans he’d made for other situations. 

    He heard Sam move before he realized he was sticking his hand in through the bars of the cell.  All Dream did was raise an eyebrow before Sam was matching it and he was reaching out to take his hand. 

    He felt Sam squeeze. 

“I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

    He believed him. 

“Okay.”

“I love you, kid.”

    Dream smiled. Despite the flashes through the back of his mind that demanded I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I—

“I love you too.”

    If Sam was down here then George knew about it. If George knew and wasn’t stopping it then he probably was with Sam. 

    Dream believed in George. 

    He trusted him. 

    George wouldn’t leave him for something like that. He’d still be there for him. He’d protect him. Their love meant more than something like this. George wasn’t going to leave him unless there was no way it was anything else that made him turn and even then he might still love him. The tears in his eyes. The way he’d brought up the serum. 

    Dream had to believe that George still loved him. 

    He barely realized Sam was leaving. Waving to his knight before he was left in the silence of his cell again. Breathing in the damp of the stone around him and feeling his lungs scratch as the panic clawed its way through his chest again. 

    He forced himself to breathe. 

    The same way he taught his squires when they were stressed or scared. In for four, hold four, out four, wait four. Repeat. Over and over. He tried to drill himself until the world would drown away from him. So that he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. He wouldn’t have to feel afraid inside his own body anymore. 

“What a waste of time.”

    Dream forced himself not to flinch. 

“You’re not real.”

    He heard a laugh. He felt sick. 

“I’m plenty real. You’re just too stupid to figure that out.”

“Go away.”

    Dream watched the shadows in the hall move. He knew the shape of the man that had haunted his nightmares since he was a little boy. He knew the face of the man that—

“Look at your father when he’s talking to you.”

“This isn't the basement. This is the Central Palace. I’m safe. I’m safe here.”

“You’re not safe until I tell you you are.”

“Dream?”

“Turn around and face her.”

“She’s not real. Neither of you are real.”

    This had been happening since a few hours ago. The sight of his father in the hallway. The sound of his mo—

“Dream? My sweet boy, you’ve grown up so tall.”

“You aren’t real.”

    He was hallucinating. He knew that. It wasn’t real. Just in his head. 

“I’m right here.”

“My mother is dead. She died when I was four. It was my fault.”

“Damn right it was your fault.”

    None of this was real. He was panicking and the stone bricks and the size of the cell were just getting to him. In the West the bricks weren’t gray stone. In the cave it wasn’t brick. He’d had ways to keep the memories at bay but he couldn’t do that here. He couldn’t do that when it felt like it was swallowing him alive. His breathing started coming in short. Rougher pants that were grating at him and pushing him bit by bit. 

“Turn around.”

“Look at me, son.”

    He didn’t want to. She wouldn’t be there and his heart wouldn’t be able to take it. 

“Look at your mother! Look at what you did to her!”

    He closed his eyes against his father. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t need the shouts or the screams that were coming from inside his own mind. He could ignore it. He could push past it. He’d be fine. He’d manage. 

“Dream? My sweet boy, look at me? I want to see you. I miss you.”

    He felt her hand on his back. He flinched. His stomach was turning, his head was pounding. Everywhere he looked it was like there were sparks and spots dancing over his eyes. 

“You aren’t real.”

“I can make it real.”

“My baby, I’m right here.”

    She wasn’t. She was dead. But Dream remembered her touch. He remembered being small and curling up to go to sleep against her. He remembered being a little boy and laying on her chest and napping there. He remembered her laughing beside him. Holding his hand and him trying to run to match the speed of her walk. He remembered watching her cook and trying to help. 

    She was the only memory of his childhood that he tried to remember. 

    She was the only one he was afraid to forget. 

    In his memories her face looked blurry. 

“Turn around.”

    If he did he would lose her. If he turned around he’d see she wasn’t there and he couldn’t stomach that. All the other losses he had. All the other pains he’d suffered. If he turned right now and he saw the empty cell it would be a confirmation that he was losing it. He didn’t need that. He was already having to fight for his sanity and here he was standing and talking to his hallucinations. 

    He was panicking. Just a panic. He’d done this before. He could handle this again. 

    That’s all this was. It’s all it could be. There wasn’t room for it to be anything else. 

“Turn. Around.”

“Go to hell.”

    He heard his father laugh. He wanted Sam back. He wanted his real dad back. 

“You’re already there.”

    He didn’t have a chance to ask what it meant. One moment beyond the sound of the words and then he heard his mother scream. So loud and so close to his ear and Dream couldn’t stop himself. He’d already failed to protect her once before, he couldn’t do it again. He’d been a four year old boy then. He wasn’t able to save her then. He could save her now. He could—

    He turned. 

    Just as his father wanted, Dream turned. 

    He came face to face with a rotting corpse. Blonde hair nearly gone and stringy where it was left in the meager skin still covering the skull. Empty eye sockets with fluid running down the shrunken skin. Drawn pack lips that exposed the bloodstained teeth. The smell of rot. The discolored skin. The way he saw a skeletal hand reach for his face. 

“My baby, look what you’ve done to me.”

    His stomach turned fast. Bile rushing up his throat and sending him lurching to the side to empty his stomach out onto the ground. The moment he looked down he saw blood. Bodies lining the floor of his cell and he saw George and Tommy. Both of them with the bruises of his hands ringing around their throats and gashes and stabs. He could see the rose sword like Tommy had been reaching for it. He could see the marks of the fight. He could feel them. Smell their blood. Like they were right there. 

“This isn’t real—”

    It couldn’t be real. His heart was racing regardless. Pushing and pumping his blood like he was going to die if it wasn’t. He felt his hands shaking. All of him was shaking. 

“Don’t like what you see?”

    Dream gagged again. His father in the cell. His father stalking forward. His mother’s corpse hanging on his arm like she was trying to hold him like they used to when they were alive and there was still a shred of love in his father’s heart. 

“You aren’t real.”

“You’re sure?”

    Dream felt the hands on his neck like they were really there. 

    The world lighting all around him until he was just a little boy again in the basement of his childhood house. His father looming over him and beating him until there was nothing left to beat. Until there was no air in his lungs and he couldn’t breathe anything but the mold. 

    Dream tried to get the hands away. There were no hands to claw away. 

“You’re shaking. That scared already, boy?”

    His heart wasn’t beating right. He couldn’t see straight. He couldn’t breathe. The hand around his neck got tighter. His legs felt weaker. 

    Dream barely realized when his body was falling to the ground. Knees too weak to hold his weight and taking him to the ground. He was trying to fight the hands away but he wasn’t succeeding. It was like he was locked in place. Pressed with his side digging into the metal bars of the cell while his father strangled him. 

    He was hallucinating. He had to be hallucinating. Phil said all of it was just in his head. That’s what this had to be. It couldn’t be anything other than that. It couldn’t—

“You’re a waste.”

    Dream tried to breathe. Mouth open and struggling for air. 

    His father shoved a hand into his mouth. 

“You should have drowned in your damn lungs when I told you to.”

    He couldn’t breathe. 

    Something flooding through his throat and filling his mouth and Dream felt tears well in his eyes. Everything around him spinning too fast and his body fighting to get away from the danger. He just wanted to be away. He wanted to be done. 

    He wanted his mom. He wanted Sam. He wanted George. 

    His family that would protect him. His family that had actually chosen him instead of the one that had abandoned him. He wanted to be safe and he wanted to understand what was happening. Instead of his father over top of him and shaking him against the ground hard enough Dream felt his head banging into the stone of the ground. He felt his limbs pulling. Stretching too far and his father laughing at him while he struggled. Taunting him for the fact that he was crying. 

    He couldn’t control it. He couldn’t stop it. He wanted to stop it. 

“Your heart deserves to stop.”

    If it made it end then Dream might just agree. If it gave him peace then he might say yes. His father was yelling. Demanding. He was cursing him out over and over again above his head and there was nothing Dream could do to fight. So he let himself slide. Like he’d wanted to do when he was an eight year old kid. Like what he wanted before he’d found a reason for himself to live. Like he’d wanted all that time ago. Dream wanted it again. He was giving it again. 

    Slipping until he was letting his father shake him all he wanted. Crushing his air and gagging him. Breaking him until Dream felt his eyes finally closing. Rolling back and giving up. 

    The last thing he heard was his father’s demand. His father’s laugh. 

    And Dream gave up. 

Chapter Text

    Dream heard screaming. 

    Bleeding and breaking through his mind before he felt the pressure building far too much in his lungs and his throat. Gagging him and suffocating him before he lurched to get it out. 

    He needed it out. 

“There you go, Dream.”

“That’s it, come on, Baby Knight.”

    He coughed. Heaving and choking on the floor and feeling the wetness flood from his mouth and out onto the ground. He was left shaking. 

    Trembling and panting and feeling shivers run down along his spine. 

“You’re alright. It’s okay.”

    This felt familiar. Something that he’d been through already once before. 

    The stone beneath his cheek made it all the more clear by the moment. The damp smell in the air and the cold draft he felt all around him. It reminded him of the cave. So strongly, Dream felt bile rushing up his throat. Scrambling to get his arms and legs beneath him and get himself up to the toilet he knew would be there. 

    He knew where he was. 

    He knew he was in Central’s dungeons. 

    He was at the palace. George had him there. He had him hidden away. 

“Get it out, Dream.”

    He sobbed. Panic and his fear pulsing at the back of his mind while the rest of his body tensed and rid itself of everything he’d managed to swallow down. Tears were in his eyes. Burning and stinging and leaving him sniffling and crying more. 

    He knew he looked like a mess. Face red and blotchy and body he was sure was pale and shaking. 

    Dream didn’t know how long it was with him hunched over like that. Feeling like his stomach was trying to remove itself from his body and like he had no choice but to breathe and aspirate on his own vomit. 

“You’re okay.”

“You’re not real.”

    He would say it still. He’d hold onto that still. 

    Nothing else he was seeing down here was real. It was the memories and the panic that was settling in on him and forcing him to think of things that didn’t actually exist. It was the fear that he had of being left alone. His terror of all the times he thought he was facing his own death. 

    The basement when he was a child. 

    The cave from over a year ago. 

    He’d feel the phantom pain of the alchemy ripping through his body next, he was sure. If he saw Francis right now he might just be convinced he was a hallucination too. If he talked to him and kept on the other side of the bars he would believe nothing short of that. Until he was being touched and held by another person, Dream was willing to convince himself that everything he saw here was nothing but his mind playing tricks on him. 

    He didn’t even know how long it had been with him laying on the ground. 

    He’d passed out. 

    Scared himself and he must have hyperventilated enough that he’d ended up passing out on the ground. It wasn’t out of the realm of potential. He knew that it could happen to people and he knew that he’d been at risk for something like that more than a few times through the courses of his many recoveries. Everyone always seemed so worried about his heart and the way he would move about things rather than anything else. They watched for his fear and his panic. They kept telling him to breathe when he thought nothing was wrong. 

    Down here he thought he might have appreciated the reminder. 

    He left his eyes closed. Breathing as deep as he could and moving blindly to attempt to get himself up onto the cot and lean against the wall. 

    There was no mold here. He was safe here. He wasn’t going to be hurt. George wouldn’t allow him to be hurt. He would protect him even if he’d had him arrested. He would be fed and he’d have water and he’d know all of it would be safe because George was going to have all of it tested before it reached him. He was fine. 

    He would be fine. 

“Dream, you’re not okay.”

“You aren’t real.”

    He’d heard the voices of his dead brothers while he was in the cave. Right now them being beside him wasn’t going to help him. Right now with them here he wasn’t going to be able to convince himself that the cell was a different place. That he was safe. 

    He still felt a pang of doubt in his chest that they might actually be there. 

“Please?”

    He let his voice soften. A bit of acceptance that he didn’t want to give but allowed all the same. He could accept alchemy. He could maybe accept the Stars were something. There could be a science to ghosts. He could figure it out. They might just not be there yet but that didn’t mean the science of it didn’t exist. Just because he didn’t understand it. 

    George would be having a field day with him for this conversation. 

“Please leave?”

    He couldn’t handle seeing his brothers right now. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to feel like he was safe. 

    He’d only be safe if he knew he wasn’t seeing things. 

“Please go away? If you’re here then I’m—”

“It’s not the cave, Baby Knight. Dad’s going to get you out of this.”

“He told Zach.”

    Dream swallowed hard. His stomach tightening into a knot in his gut. 

“He took that about as well as you could expect.”

“Had to nearly hold him down in the infirmary bed. We took care of him, don’t worry.”

    He almost laughed. He might have if the thought of his dead brothers watching over the two of them still alive made him feel like his heart had a sword through it. 

“You know you aren’t okay, right?”

“I’m fine.”

    Dream heard the shake in his own voice. He knew that he wasn’t fine. He knew that Five was right when he kept saying it and he knew that Boomer was making the face he always did when Dream would say something that was so blatantly a lie. 

“Sure you are, Dreamie.”

    Not even his hallucinations believed him. 

“Still aren’t hallucinations. Still your big brothers.”

    He felt the touch of something cold on his arm. It made him flinch. 

    He remembered what he saw before he passed out. He remembered what scared him enough into hyperventilating and hitting the ground. 

    His father. His mother. His father’s hands around his throat and suffocating him. 

    As far as Dream knew his father was still alive. They were both hallucinations. Dream would never go back to that town but he did pay attention for the news that came from it. He wanted to know when his father died. He wanted to know so that he could make sure that house was flattened and the basement he’d suffered in was burned and buried like it should have been years ago. 

    Dream would never set foot there again. 

    He’d relish in his own imaginings of what that day would look like. 

“Please leave me alone?”

    If they were really his brothers here they would listen. He trusted them still enough for that. They would let him be and let him breathe in the way that he needed to. On his own and away from the pressure that was hounding in on him and making him feel as if he were drowning.

    Dream waited. 

    And waited. 

    And waited. 

    He listened to the silence of the cells for who knows how long before he dared to open his eyes again. 

    He found himself alone. 

    Letting out a shaking breath and feeling his head pounding in his skull. He’d thought for a little while that he’d managed to shake the headache that was weighing down on him but it appeared that was incorrect as an assumption. 

    Impressively enough, the floor of the cell looked fine. He couldn’t even tell that he’d been coughing. A small spot where the stone looked wet but he doubted it would be noticed if anyone came down. 

    If anyone came down

    Dream kept himself breathing. Assuring himself the whole way through that he was capable of working through this. He’d handled worse than this. He could survive something as mild as this. 

    He trusted George enough for this. 

    George would get him out. He’d protect him. Dream still loved him. He believed George still loved him back. 

    Dream tried to relax. 

    It wasn’t working. 

    He didn’t know how long he was going to have to handle being in the cell here. He didn’t know how long it was going to take for his name to be cleared. The range was wide enough for him to know that he was to figure out a way to keep himself together. 

    He trusted his family to keep him safe. He trusted them to know him and know that he didn’t do this. 

    He loved Central. He loved the nation and their people. He loved every part of it. If he was going to lose this all it was going to be anything but his own will. 

    All his pain. All the things he’d done. All his fighting and all the blood on his hands. They knew he wouldn’t do this. Whatever evidence they had was good. They couldn’t tell him. They wouldn’t be able to discuss it with him. 

    He trusted them all to know. 

    Head tipped back and resting his temple into the cold brick of the wall. It felt good. His skin feeling warm and his body feeling more like a trap. On any other time he thought he might just stay curled in George’s bed and let himself reset. He’d tuck in with his lover and let him summon Phil instead of the two of them walking down to the infirmary. 

    He wondered if Phil knew. If he would be coming down to the cell and checking him over here. If he would be left alone and feel like a person. 

    A criminal, but at least a person. 

    If he could just have time to sleep and be ignored for a day then he would be okay. If he could just breathe and rest and pretend like he had no responsibilities. No one was going to come looking for him here. No one was going to hunt for the Lead in the dungeons held for treason. 

    He was going to be alone. 

    He could let himself sleep

    Let the cold ease out the fever he felt like was around him. He could breathe. Relax. He could be calm. 

    If he made himself sleep then he wouldn’t be panicking and making himself pass out. 

    He was still okay. 

    He would be okay. 

    Dream pushed himself back into the wall. Feeling the pressure and pretending that he was tucking against the headboard of George’s bed. 

    He allowed himself to wonder what the rest of his family would think. How they would react to different things. He hoped the Bench were doing alright. That they would be okay with this. 

    Though, Dream didn’t even have all the information about what was going on. He didn’t know if his boys would get much more than him. If he’d even be allowed to see them. If they would be able to come down and see him in here. 

    He didn’t know if he really wanted them to see him down here. 

    After all the other things that happened to them they didn’t need to see something more. They didn’t need to see their knight behind bars and called a traitor. 

    He didn’t know how Tommy would take it. Ranboo and Tubbo would fight for him. He knew they would fight for him. They’d been doing that since the beginning. Even when everyone else looked at him like he was a corpse. They were scared and stressed and they kept their distance. 

    Tommy had chosen to believe he was dead. 

    He’d just said that he got him back again. 

    He’d hear about him in a cell and he’d say he lost him again. He’d call him dead. 

    Dream would fail him again. 

    Breathe in. 

    All he did was fail. 

    Breathe out. 

    He just had to wait. 

    Breathe in. 

    Wait and they’d figure all of it out. He’d be okay.

    Breathe out. 

    He was okay. 

“Tommy, I need you to calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to be fucking calm.”

    He didn’t bother hiding the anger in his voice. Listing instead his anger and his worry and his fear that felt like it was trying to eat him alive. Tubbo and Ranboo were behind him. They were with him. They’d all heard the news together and right now he wasn’t going to let anyone tell him to be calm unless it was Dream himself. 

    He wasn’t going to listen to anyone unless it was his knight. 

    The three of them were getting up for the day and everything was meant to be fine. It was supposed to be just a normal day for all of them to be spending it together. Nothing was meant to be wrong. Instead they’d gotten to the dining hall and everyone had been staring at them. Watching them like they were experiments or some kind of a pity project. 

    Immediately they’d worried about Dream. 

    Tommy wasn’t stupid. 

    He knew that his knight had been hurt. He knew that Dream had been on the ground and that there was a reason that Nightmare had been on the walk in the first place instead of in Dream’s hand. He knew that there was something more going on. He knew that it was dangerous and that they had to be careful. 

    But he’d seen Dream again and everything was going to be fine. 

    He’d seen the knight that he always wanted to be like. He’d seen him strong and fearless. He’d seen him battling and he’d seen him taking command of everything around him. He’d seen the terror that was the man the East called Death. 

    Even if he was injured, even if there was something more that was going on, it didn’t matter. Dream was back. He could protect him. He  would protect him if he was injured. He’d guard him and make sure that he was safe because that was what a squire did. 

    He just needed to get his head out of his ass but he was better now and that meant things were all going to be better. 

    They’d thought it was an injury. 

    Tubbo and Ranboo theorizing over all the different hits they’d seen Dream take and his older wounds that they knew about. The list was too long for him to be happy about. The list of their own failures that their knight had been hurt like he was. That he needed the recovery times that he did. 

    When they made it to the infirmary, Tommy had expected that they’d find Dream in a bed. That or standing and arguing with Phil about why he didn’t need to be pushed back into the chair they’d have ready for him. He thought they’d find Dream ready and willing to put up a struggle for all the things he usually did and instead they’d found Sam and Phil standing together while Sam looked like he’d taken his arrow through the middle rather than his leg. 

    They didn’t want to talk to anyone else before this. They’d just wanted to pretend everything was normal until their worry had grown too much. 

    One ask. 

    That was all it was and their days were being changed completely. 

    Dream was in the dungeons. Locked up and accused of treason that Tommy knew damn well he didn’t commit. 

    Treason it seemed like all of them knew he didn’t commit. 

“Tommy, you need to listen to me—”

“Fuck you.”

    He didn’t need to listen to anyone. He would listen to Dream. Right now that was it. He’d have Dream or he’d have no one. He didn’t want anyone else. He just wanted his knight and he wanted things to be okay again. He wanted to be able to laugh again and to just be a squire again. 

    They’d talked about knighting them all before they came back home to Central and now Dream was being called a traitor? It didn't make sense. 

    If Dream wasn’t the man to knight him then Tommy would never be knighted. 

    As simple as that. 

    He’d have his knight or he’d have no one at all. 

    Tommy didn’t hesitate to lift his hand to the door. He didn’t think twice about slamming his fist into it in the way of a knock. 

    At the start of his squirehood, Tommy would have died at the thought of doing anything that could potentially be considered untoward around the Prince. He would have rather ended himself then and there before he used anything other than a title for a royal or acted in any way out of step around one of them. 

    Now though?

“George! I need some fucking answers!”

    He was too angry to care. 

    The three of them knew the way Dream felt about their Prince. They knew the way the other knights and squires would talk about the rumors for the two of them. They saw how every move Dream did at any moment was dedicated to George. They knew the way their knight looked towards him at any given moment. How he would hang on his words and how he would devote himself to him. 

    Dream loved George so much. 

    And how was it repaid?

    Locking him in the dungeons for something they all knew damn well he didn’t do. 

    To say that he was pissed was an understatement. 

“George! Open the door you—”

    The door opened. 

    Tommy nearly punched in Queen square in the face. 

“Majesty—”

“I’ve got this, Mom.”

    Her eyes looked rimmed with red. George’s voice from inside seemed ruined. He sounded like he’d been crying. 

    Good. 

    Tommy hoped he was. 

    The Queen hesitated. Standing and watching between all of them until her and Sam seemed to almost have a silent conversation with one another. Tommy didn’t know what it was they were talking about but he could take some guesses off the way that she sighed. 

“I’m sorry.”

    It was all she said before she was stepping out of the way and giving room for the rest of them to go into George’s study. Sam didn’t come in with them. Leaving them to their business and trusting them to not maim George where he was standing for all the things that happened. 

    When they saw him George was slouching in his chair behind his desk. His cheeks rubbed pink and eyes exhausted and bloodshot. He was still sniffing like he’d just finished crying. The confirmation of his guess made a bit of pride spark in his chest. 

    Even though George was just as much like a parent to them as Dream was. Even though he loved George. Even though he was sworn to him. 

    Right now he was too angry to think. 

“Sam told you what happened, I take it?”

    It wasn’t enough. 

“You know he didn’t do it.”

“I know we have to be careful.”

“It’s our own nation we know he didn’t—”

“It’s not just us, Tommy.”

    He sounded so worn. Like the crown of Kingship had already been sitting on his head for the last twenty years of his life. 

“The North is here, if you missed that.”

    Tommy paused. He had. He’d been so wrapped up with trying to navigate things inside and being intercepted by Sam that he hadn’t realized they were here. If they were here then that meant Oliver was here. 

    He hadn’t seen him. 

    Did that mean—

“Oliver is alive. Most of the people are. We’re treating the ones who are hurt and needed more help.” He hesitated. “Hannah’s mom had a marigold in her hand when they found her.”

    A marigold. The flower of Central. 

    The flower that was placed in the hands of a murdered Queen. 

“But we didn’t attack them.”

“No, we didn’t.”

    Were they being threatened with war? 

“So then—”

“The West, East, and North were all attacked right alongside us. Right now we don’t know if the South was as well. They haven’t responded to anything.”

“They’re bastards—”

“They are part of the Compass and that makes them my duty to protect.”

    George’s voice turned hard. 

    In the same way that Dream’s would when he was overly stressed about something he was meant to be doing. In the same way that meant Dream was pushing himself closer to the brink without rest and he aws was going to start snapping on people. His trainings were never very nice when it got to that point. When they pushed him and pushed him until their knight was doing more yelling than encouraging. It was necessary. They were messing things up and they were only going to learn it if they were called out on it but still. Dream was frightening to go against. 

    Tommy would know. 

    He still had nightmares of his hands around his neck. 

“If this is a threat from outside of the Compass we need to make sure that they aren’t using any of us inside it.”

    He couldn’t possibly—

“Dream’s not a traitor.”

    He stared down George. Watching his Prince as something in his eyes seemed to break. 

“I know he’s not.”

“So then—”

“Dream is not a traitor. He is not hurting Central. Nothing he does of his own will would be against this nation. Not against me or any of the rest of us.”

    He was about to argue the point. Pushing for the answer that was right in front of all of them that Dream was innocent and that what they were doing didn’t make sense. That they were being stupid by accusing him and locking him up. They were facing off against a fight and they were abandoning their best fighter and their best strategist. Central needed Dream. They needed his plans and they needed his leadership. 

    As loath as Tommy was to admit to it, Dream had been right when he said he needed to fight in the war against the West. They’d been at it for a year and then when Dream made it out it was over in the span of a few weeks. 

    Dream was always the push to end the fight. 

    He was the force that did it. 

    Without him—

    Tubbo grabbed his hand. Squeezing it hard and only when he looked back to his friend and saw his face did Tommy start to realize the wording that George had used. 

    He turned to Ranboo to confirm it. He was hoping that he was wrong. That all of them were wrong. That they were just being paranoid and that George hadn’t actually meant it like that. 

“His own will?”

    Ranboo parroted it back. George looked more upset by the moment. 

“It’s not beyond the realm of what we’ve already seen. If they have serum—”

    He’d just gotten him back. 

“Dream’s not under serum.”

    The room felt too still. 

    George looked desperate. 

“I know you want to believe that. All of us want to. But the evidence we have and everything else it—”

“The evidence is planted. Dream’s not under serum.”

“You can’t possibly know that.”

“I can.”

    This time the change was on him. Tubbo and Ranboo drilling their eyes into him on either side and George straightening up in his chair like he’d just told him he had the path to the home of the Gods and held up a map. Like what he’d just said was earth shattering. 

“How?”

    There was hope in George’s voice. He could feel it from his brothers beside him. 

“I fought him, under the serum. Right?”

    He didn’t mean for it to come out like a question. He didn’t mean for it to be a confirmation of the things that he’d done and the pain that they’d all faced. He didn’t mean for it to come out like an ask that that was still Dream and not a corpse that he’d fought. 

    George only nodded to him. 

“Dream doesn’t fight like him when he’s not the one in control.”

    All of them were still. All of them were silent. 

“He fights like a puppet.”

    Even thinking about it again made fear start pumping through his veins. He remembered it all too clearly. Standing there in the arena as Dream stalked towards him. He knew that the fighting was still insanely strong and taking advantage of Dream’s annoying amount of strength. But he also knew that the fighting that he’d been given in the arena wasn’t really Dream’s. It was  a knight’s fighting sure. It was muscle memory. That wasn’t a big deal. 

    There was a huge difference in the fight when it was someone like Dream. 

    When it was muscle memory piloting the fight versus the mind of a militant genius. 

“Did you not see him fighting?”

    Tubbo shook his head. Ranboo as well. He looked back at George to see him staring at him. Expression guarded and all of it hidden and under a wrap. 

“Dream was fighting like him. He was in full control of what he was doing out there. Every part of that was him. It was really, truly—” He’d seen his knight again. How was it that he’d found him and the rest of them lost him. “That was just Dream.”

    There was more silence. 

    All of them taking it in and accepting the things that he’d said. Thinking it through and figuring out what it was that they all really still needed now. 

“If the evidence was planted then. By who?”

    The question was low. He didn’t know what all the evidence was. From what Sam had explained to them they knew that it was a lot and they knew it was pretty damning but they didn’t know what it was in detail. It was a way to keep them away from this when all of them knew that their first reactions were going to be going to help their knight. It was going to be rushing for Dream’s defense and trying to protect him from the slander this was going to cause. 

    They needed him out of the cell. They needed him safe. 

    Tommy had a rough enough time in the barracks. Waking up in the middle of the night from the nightmares he had of the arena and seeing what he thought in the shadows was his cell there. Choking on a scream and kicking out at anything that got closer. Ranboo was the one that would grab him and calm him down. Tubbo sitting firmly in his place on his bed and holding himself like he was trying to bite back at his own memories. 

    He could imagine how Dream was handling another actual cell. 

    He could imagine the sting of betrayal their knight was feeling. 

“Do we have any suspects so far?”

    Ranboo was the one stepping up to answer. Working to come up with the plan. 

    Tommy had the anger. Ranboo was going to take over being the brain. Tubbo would be both. 

“Tell me who you’d put on it.”

    They didn’t know. 

    None of them knew when it was something as serious as this. All the names they could put out were going to be investigated and hunted and they didn’t want more people to be locked in the dungeons if they didn’t truly deserve it. 

“Where is everyone important right now?”

    Tubbo. Anger and brain. 

    They all watched George sigh. 

“James, Francis, Toby, and Mars are all together currently. James is trying to help Mars with her lungs and he’s trying to get any information from the Stars down in the reflecting pools. Francis and Toby are with him in case he hurts himself or something happens.”

    It made sense. James was still in recovery as well. All of them were. It hadn’t been all that long. They’d all managed to get themselves ruined to the point that lengthy recovery was the only option they had. It was better to be safe than to be sorry. 

“Hannah was in here not long ago. She left with Ant to get the group of Northern knights settled down in their wing in the barracks. King Edward is with my father in the infirmary. He’s alright he’s just,” He took a breath. “He’s worried. They grew up together the same way Hannah and I did.”

    The bond of the Compass royals. 

“Mason and Farfadox are checking all of the knights. Doing a run through of all the inventory with the staff and making sure that nothing was stolen.”

“We trust them to do that?”

    He blurted it out before he really got a chance to think about it. It was rude and it was uncalled for. They both deserved more respect than what he was giving to them with comments like that. 

“Mason was a knight here, remember? Farfadox has Dream’s trust. That’s enough for me. They ended the war. They have no reason to be responsible here, especially when their own people were attacked and that’s what drove them here to begin with.”

“Right.”

    George took a breath. Flexing his hands a few times before he was rubbing them over his face like he was trying to wake himself up from a bad dream. 

“Sam, you were just with. Phil has his hands full in the infirmary. Ponk is with him to help with the influx. Zach is still down in the infirmary. Foolish is out on the walls checking for how they got inside in the first place. Sapnap is with Karl in the infirmary. Oliver is in the infirmary. Punz too for his leg. Techno’s been going to get supplies and coming back. He’s basically our armed errand boy right now. He’s trying to keep people alive.”

    The list kept going. It felt like it wasn’t going to end. Like each time George said another name he was expecting it to end with the statement that they were in the morgue. 

“We still don’t know where Bad is.”

“What have we found so far?”

“That he fell?”

    He said it just so that they could tell the emotional strain he was under. They could hear the pain in his voice. They could hear the weight he was carrying. It was the stark reminder that Bad had been close with them all when they were younger. That the knight, for all his annoyance sometimes, was well and truly loved by everyone in the palace. All his muffins and his dumb scoldings over language. 

    He was a good knight. An even better friend. 

“We found broken branches and drag marks. They vanished before we could get a real trail. Nothing else other than that right now.”

    They needed more information. They needed a way to figure out what the hell these people were and what they wanted in order to know how to fight them but they had planned for everything. They were smart. They were—

    They were like Dream. 

    Biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood, Tommy tried to keep himself calm. He tried to focus on the important things. The fact that so far none of the people in their family were dead. Confirmed dead, at least. They were all still here and they were all still fighting. 

“What would it take for us to prove that Dream is innocent?”

    George sighed. Low and suffering. Pained and only when he stood and failed to hide a wince did they realize the pain might be more than emotional. 

“Dream is innocent.”

    It sounded almost like he was trying to convince himself. 

“He’s not under serum.”

    George hesitated. Moving his jaw in the way Dream had taught him meant he was biting the inside of his cheek. He was meant to be a distraction for times like this. He was meant to help stop him and get him to break the bad habit. Right now with the taste of blood still sharp on his tongue, Tommy didn’t think he had any room to talk. 

“I just need him to hold on for a little while longer. Just until things calm down a bit or we have more answers. Something that I can use to prove that it’s not him.”

“And what is he supposed to think in the meantime?”

    He didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh. It was just the fact that he’d been there in the cells in the arena when Dream was hurting from the alchemy. He’d sat up with Toby when Dream and Francis were dragged back to the cell and the two of them were mumbling deliriously. Dream almost always talked about George. He knew that he was his knight’s focal point. He knew that everything Dream had was for George. 

    If he lost him?

    Tommy had only just gotten him back. He didn’t want his knight trying to send himself into the grave for it. 

    He knew what he’d said to Techno before. He knew how much of an ass he was being. He knew that what he’d done was wrong but he was scared and he was stressed and it wasn’ an excuse but—

    The thought of Dream now. 

    Alone in the cell thinking that all of them turned on him or left him or some other stupid thing that would never happen. He needed to know what to tell him. He needed to know what Dream would be thinning and how things went down. 

    He needed to know how to fight it. 

“Dream knows that I love him.”

“Does he?”

    George froze. Tense and breathing measured. 

    He didn’t think that was really going to get a reaction other than maybe anger out of their Prince but instead George was standing and turning towards the window that overlooked the yard. He was staring down them. Watching and waiting like he would be able to see so much more of the world outside. Like he’d be able to get the answers that they needed. 

    The answers that would get Dream free even though the man with the power to change it was the very one searching for the reason. 

“I hope he does.”

    It sounded haunted. 

    Something more had happened than just Dream’s arrest. Something worse was said. 

“Boys,” George turned back to them. Eyes serious and voice heavy. “I need you all to be careful. We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with and I don’t trust that that was the last attack.”

“Why did you lock Dream away?”

    George’s eyes were full of pity. Like this they could see the tear stains on his cheeks catching in the light. 

“If our enemy is using him, this stops them from doing it. It protects him as much as it protects our people. If I could do this any other way—”

“You could just keep him with you.”

“We all know that wouldn’t have worked.”

    Dream would throw himself into danger. Dream needed to rest longer than what George could afford to. Dream needed time to himself and being glued to another person wasn’t going to be what he needed. If he was under the serum and this was a large attack—

    Well. 

    George had his reasons. Tommy saw the way his Prince glanced to the letter sitting folded on his desk. 

“I’m doing this because I love him too much to see him hurt worse. This is the safest option.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

“I know.”

    Tommy believed him. 

    He could see the grief that was burning in his eyes. He could see the worry in the way that he stood. None of them liked this. None of them wanted this. They could only hope that Dream could wait. 

“We’re going to go see him.”

    George wanted to tell them no. They could see it in his eyes. In the way he stopped himself from speaking. In the way he forced himself to nod instead. 

“Be safe.”

    Tubbo turned first. Ranboo following him and Tommy turning not long behind. He was just crossing into the hallway when he heard the thump of George falling back into his chair. When he heard the call of his name. 

    One turn back. Just to see his Prince watching him. New tears in his eyes. 

“Tell me if he knows I love him? I—”

“He does.”

    George’s voice was shaking. Trembling and worried and so broken in that moment. 

    But it was Dream. 

    Dream who had always and would always fight for George’s heart. Dream who had more faith in George than he did the literal Gods of the world. 

    Dream who did everything in his power to make sure that George was safe and sound and protected from any and all harm. 

    Dream who loved George more than anything else in the world and knew that he loved him back. 

“He knows that I—”

“I’ll tell him.”

    George’s eyes were soft. Broken and dark, but still soft on the edges. 

    The eyes of a King that held war and mercy both with the same hand. The eyes of a King that would lead them through this and do everything he could to get them to the other side safely. 

    The eyes of a King that Tommy was willing to serve and die for. 

“Tell him.”

    George’s order. 

    More than the confessions of the love between them. The plan he had. The way to fill Dream in. It was a show in trust in the things he’d been saying. 

    That George believed that it was really Dream down there and not someone under the control of the serum. It was the faith that his royal had for the things he thought about and Tommy wasn’t going to be the one to take that for granted. He was proud of it. He was happy for it. 

    He wished it didn’t come with the circumstance it did. 

    A nod was all it took. All his confirmation was going to be. It was all it needed to be. 

    They would go down to the dungeons. They would see Dream and they would explain it all to him. They would let him know that they had a plan to help him and get him out. 

    That they just needed him to wait. 

    They’d see if he still trusted them. 

    They’d fix the bond. 

    This time in the halls they ignored the looks they were given. It wasn’t needed and it wasn’t important. They only had their goal. They had what they wanted and what they needed. 

    To get Dream. 

    To help their knight. 

    They’d tell him everything they knew. They’d let Dream figure out who was behind it from inside his own cell. 

    They’d be together again. 

    Their family. 

    Their fucked up family. 

Chapter Text

    The dungeons felt cold. Pressing in and suffocating all around them as they moved. Tommy kept himself at the front of the group. He was the primary squire. He was meant to be the one that had all the control in something like this. He was meant to be the best when it came down to it and yet he was here and watching like he was afraid to take the wrong misstep. 

    He was meant to be the leader for the squires. 

    That’s what Dream had told him before. He was supposed to be the one that was in charge of the rest of them and guiding them. The son of the Leading Knight. He’d learned so much from Dream over their time together as knight and squire. He should be more than capable of taking care of things and yet he felt like he wasn’t able to even breathe. 

    He forced himself down the steps all the same. 

    Cold stone but his brothers at his back. 

    Part of him wondered if their other brothers would join them. 

    One they could see and one that they wouldn’t. 

    Back in the aftermath of the cave when Dream had been out of his mind with fever and confused them for people they weren’t Tommy had thought the similarities couldn’t be all that close. He thought that the fever was well and truly just making Dream see things and he’d been right on that end but now that he’d seen the two that Tubbo and Ranboo were compared to?

    Ranboo and Zach looked nearly identical. Dark hair and light eyes. The way they carried themselves. Sure their bulk was different but that was for a number of reasons. Their height and their body types. They were a match. If Ranboo hadn’t taken the brunt of the potion at the start of all this in the first attack and been burned and scarred then they would still look identical. 

    Even he’d mistaken Robin for Tubbo when he first met him. 

    The first squire. The one that all the rest of them were compared to. The one that was the reason Dream was as afraid to lose any of them as he was. 

    Robin in that moment when Farfadox was trying to bring him back to life had told him that it wasn’t Dream’s fault. That through all of this Dream was not the one to blame. He couldn’t honestly tell if that was the way his brothers were trying to take care of him or if they only cared about him because they cared about Dream. 

    He didn’t know who they’d rather watch over. 

    Farfadox certainly didn’t seem like he cared that Dream was currently locked away in the dungeons. He hadn’t even seen the man. Like he was trying to avoid the dungeons and trying to ignore that it was Dream. The very person that he’d apparently given his life to saving and protecting. 

    Some squire. 

    He wondered if it was an order. If he was keeping himself away in the same way he’d done to Dream when he first came back to the fighting on the Eastern Fronts. If he was just keeping himself to the shadows since that was where he seemed to be working the best through it all. 

    He wondered if Robin was making this walk with them. If he was following them and stalking them and trying to get down so that he’d be able to see their knight. 

    He wondered if Robin had ever considered Dream dead like he had. 

    He wondered if they’d find Dream dead in this cell. 

    Tommy kept his feet moving. Checking over his shoulder every so often just to make sure his friends were still with him and check if he could catch anyone else down there with them. The dungeons weren’t exactly a safe place for a squire to go and they didn’t really have the best track record when it came to them. 

    They came here and they threatened a Prince. They came here and they taunted and called on the things they knew would put them into the direct line of danger. They came here and they were fools for each other and had they been anyone else they’d have been dismissed in moments. 

    But they weren’t anyone else. 

    They were Dream’s squires. 

    They were George’s squires. 

“Dream?”

    Tommy froze in his step at the sound of Tubbo’s voice. His worry paralyzing his heart. He looked up towards the cell where Tubbo was headed. Ranboo right beside him and the both of them leaving him behind to fend for himself in the hall. 

    He could still see Dream. 

    Tucked in the corner sitting on the cot. His knees to his chest and his arms folded on top to act as a pillow while he dug his head down into them. 

    They couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or if he was just resting there. He wasn’t answering them. Tommy would have worried that they found him when he was asleep if he didn’t know that Dream was an almost unnaturally light sleeper. 

“Dream?”

    They saw how still he was holding himself on the cot. He was awake, then. He was awake he just wasn’t engaging with them. If he’d been any more worried about the rest of what they had to do he would think that it was just Dream ignoring or avoiding the situation down here but he had enough experience to know that wasn’t what he was seeing here. 

    This was Dream afraid to look. 

    This was Dream when he was struggling to tell what was around him. 

    He’d seen it in the cells of the arena. How Dream had clung into George and refused to open his eyes and asked for the confirmations on where he was. He knew that his knight had the cave and the cell there that he could be comparing this too. He knew that it was going to be messing with him more than it might to others. 

“It’s us.”

    Tommy kept his voice even. He didn’t want to spook him. 

    He just got Dream back he wasn’t ready to lose him again. 

“You look like shit.”

    Normal wouldn’t spook him. 

    They had to be normal. 

    Ranboo turned to look at him like he wanted to hit him. Tubbo too. Tommy kept his eyes forward and focused on Dream. For a moment he thought he was wrong. He saw how Dream stayed still and he watched the measured counts of his breathing. He knew that he was pausing. 

    And then they saw him move. 

    Just a lift of his head as he blinked at them standing on the other side of the bars. He looked confused for just a moment before it seemed to settle on him. He’d looked them over. Checking them all like he was searching them for something. Maybe some kind of proof that he wasn’t hallucinating them and that they were all actually there. 

“Thanks, Toms.”

    He sounded tired. He looked it too. 

“Are you—” Tommy elbowed Ranboo in the ribs. He had to cut him off. Dream hated that question. It took a moment but then he saw his friend realize what he meant. “How’re you doing down here?”

    Tommy still winced. It wasn’t much better but he supposed it would have to do. 

    They all heard Dream scoff.

“The cell’s peachy, can’t you tell?”

    Still Dream. Still their knight. 

    Tommy breathed. 

“We told George you’re fine. That you should be out. Sam agrees. Pretty much everyone agrees actually but—”

    This time it was Tubbo that elbowed him. He was about to shout at him for it before he saw the way Dream’s eyes looked darker. Shadowed over and thinking. 

“I mean—”

“How is George?”

    Tubbo answered him first. 

“He’s sad.”

    It was true. It was deserved right now but that didn’t mean that it was nice to look at. 

“He misses you.”

    Ranboo, ever the one to add to the course. To follow their leads. 

    Tommy just had a job to do. 

“He loves you.”

    Dream tensed. Eyes locking straight onto him and staring him directly into his core. 

“He can’t.”

“He does. He doesn’t want this.”

    It stung. To know that Dream was on edge enough to believe that George wouldn’t love him. They cared for each other so much but Dream was willing to remove himself from everything if it was what George wanted. 

“He arrested you because he thought he didn’t have another choice.”

“And now?”

“He’s trying to prove you innocent. He’s trying to get you out.”

    Dream nodded. Low and quiet in the cell. 

“You look tired.” Tubbo leaned forward. He was squinting as he looked Dream over. “Have you slept?”

    Dream smiled. Just slight enough that they knew it was mirth more than humor. It belonged to the gallows more than it did a heart. 

“A little bit.” Dream hesitated. “What time is it outside?”

    Ranboo moved. A better angle to see the cell. 

“Not long afternoon. We found out this morning and we went to talk to George.”

    Dream was nodding. He was following along but Tommy knew what he was actually asking. He’d heard the real question under the layers of their knight’s voice. 

“Arrested last night and already losing track of time, old man?”

    Dream looked at him again. Understanding flickering through his eyes and the smile, just for a moment, turned real. 

“My ripe old age of twenty six. You know this will be you in ten years, right?”

    Tommy made a face. 

“Nah, not me. Big Man Tommy doesn’t age.”

“Uh huh. Surely.”

“Very surely.”

    Dream hummed. Amusement, real amusement, finally coming out. 

    The job of the squires. The job of Dream’s lights. 

“But you’re okay in here, right?”

    He could hit Ranboo. About to tear into him for asking something stupid like that and instead Dream’s face softened to look at him. 

“I’m okay. George wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I told Sam I’m not missing any time. I know this wasn’t me. I know I didn’t do it. You guys will prove it. It’ll be okay.”

    Dream shouldn’t be the one comforting them. 

    Like all the times before when Dream was nearly getting his life stolen away from him and he was just comforting them instead. Dream was always the one trying to protect even when he was the one needing protection the most. 

“Would you notice if you lost time down here?”

    Everything froze. Tubbo noticing the reaction his question caused and scrambling to figure out a way to fix it. Dream was biting the inside of his cheek. His knuckles turned white as he dug his nails into his leg. 

“Dream—”

“Down here isn’t the question.” He was masking his voice. There was something heavy in it. “I know where I was in that fight and all before it.”

    They’d hurt him. 

“Dream—”

“Ask Techno. I was with him in the gardens. Ask whoever you need to. I know what happened. I know where I was. I didn’t do this. I didn’t plan this. I didn’t give information to anyone and I never would. This wasn’t me. I swear.”

“We believe you.”

“You can find this. You can prove me innocent and I’ll come help with whatever I need to but please, believe me. I did not do this. I’m not losing my mind. I’m not—”

“What about you?”

    Dream paused again. Looking at the three of them and something like grief on his face. 

“What about me?”

    Something like defeat in his voice. 

“We go find the truth. All the rest of us. We all believe you. And what about you?”

    Dream looked more like the gallows than alive. 

“I’ll be here. If this is where George wants me,” His breath shuddered. “Then I’ll be here.”

    It was a good enough answer. It was enough proof for what they needed right now. 

    Dream was looking tired. He wasn’t moving to see them. He looked like he wanted this to be over. 

    All of them knew by now how to take a hint. 

    He let Tubbo and Ranboo lead this time. Lingering just a bit as he watched his knight in the cell. He turned around to go. A few steps away when he heard it. 

“Tommy?”

    He turned immediately. Facing the call his knight gave. He saw him sitting up in the bed. Leaning forward. He almost looked desperate. 

“Tell George that I love him?”

    He nodded. It was all that was needed. All that was warranted. For Tommy to be the messenger by choice this time and giving the acknowledgment of what needed to be done. Confirming their love. 

    He turned away again. Another step.

“And Tommy,”

    He froze. Dream sounded softer now. Weaker than before. He didn’t turn back. 

“I love you too, Kid.”

    He stayed silent. Thinking it over. Thinking about all the things they’d done. All they’d do. 

“Yeah,” He breathed it. “Back at you.”

“Toms—”

“I gotta go.”

    He took another step. He lowered his voice. He wasn’t even sure Dream would hear him.