Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hello dream smp fans. 

I'm Abigail, AKA ardent_angels. And I like to write. Let's talk about this new fic shall we? 

This is So You Want To Be A Hero. A new Dream SMP fic by yours truly. Are you excited? I am. 

And now. The disclaimer. 

Disclaimer!! This will  not  be following the events of the Dream smp exactly for a couple of reasons. 

1. I don't know all of the events by heart im kinda new. 

2. That would be a dumb story, you could just go watch the streams and have a much better time! 

3. Do i look like i have time for that? SO MUCH STUFF HAPPENS AHHHH

It will follow a good portion of it however because that's some cool stuff right there!! Mainly the big events.

What is this then? You ask, either praying it's a dreamnotfound fic or praying that it's not.

Well it's not dreamnotfound so if u were looking for that go somewhere else. There will be no romance! I don't want to die??? The only relationships here will be angsty ones or best friends or I guess father/son/brothers idk. 

These will be the  characters  of the dream smp. Not the real people! That way I can play around with the lore and not have to do like "then they chatted on twitch." real-life scares me let's have a WAR.

Anyway. So this will be the characters of the dream SMP (but not all of them, I can't manage that. If a character isn't really in it it doesn't mean I don't like them! i just don't know them that well enough to characterize them properly. All members are fantastic ofc ofc,) living in their world, and having their revolutions and angst as I see fit. IT WILL NOT TOTALLY FOLLOW THE SCRIPT. I HAVE PLOT MAPPED THIS AND IT SKIPS A BUNCH OF STUFF BC THERE IS SO MUCH CONTENT. ALSO THE END IS MY OWN AND EVEN IF NEW STUFF IS ADDED TO LORE IM GONNA IGNORE IT <3

Mainly I think the lore is really cool! And I want to practice my imagery/description skills without having to character build too much bc character building is difficult and i do go to high school and don't have that kind of free time.

Once again would like to reiterate that this story WILL have tales of war and angst and friendship/family drama and 100% some death and villains. THAT DOES NOT MEAN THAT ANY OF THE STREAMERS ARE EVIL. Think of this as being in canon but it's not canon. They're all lovely human beings. THESE ARE CHARACTERS. woo. kay that should've done the trick!

*They can die, but then they go to some ~place~ to recharge. Essentially respawn. Idk it's my fic and it's minecraft it doesn't have to make sense* 

Updates will be on Saturday's @12 PM EST 

I think that's it!

Enjoy. 

xoxo, 

Abigail 

p.s 

This story does not have a beta, unless you count the Grammarly extension on my laptop. We die like l'manberg. 

Chapter Text

Light filters in through the gaps in the trees, syrupy and warm. It’s late spring, the lush grass long since dried of the rainy dampness of the earlier months. A few robins chirp from their branches. A light breeze ruffles the leaves of the great oak trees. Sheep pick their way up the gently rolling hills. A fox hides in the brush. 

Through the cluster of trees, a river sparkles under the sunlight, its shore dotted with tall overgrown grass and red wildflowers. The sand is pristine and untouched. A few splashes announce the possible presence of wildlife under the water. 

The land is rich and plentiful, it practically smells of promise. 

A wild dog tilts its head to the side, perking its ears at a new sound. Branches popping, and soft, booted footsteps making their way into the thicket. 

The dog runs away, back to its den. 

Two men stand in the forest and survey the land. What they can see is only a snapshot of what’s around the area. 

They’re dressed for travel, it’s clear they’ve been journeying for some time. 

The taller of the two’s well worn green traveling cloak is stained with dirt in some places, but fits the man well, layered over a simple black t-shirt. An ax is strapped tightly to his back, one swift move and he could have the blade drawn and pointed. On his left shoulder, a round white disc is strapped, there’s something painted on it. The many pockets of his black cargo pants seem to be filled with a wide array of items; snacks, water, flowers. He pulls down the hood of his cloak, revealing tousled sandy hair and a light smattering of freckles across his nose to match. He turns olive-colored eyes to his companion. 

“Well?” He asks, arching a brow. 

“This seems like a good place.” The other man appraises, pushing a hand through his short brown hair. It sticks up where he’s mussed it. His own cloak is peeking out of the top of his pack, leaving him in a pale blue tee. He peers at the forest through thick round glasses. A sword rests easily at his hip. 

“It’s as good a place as any I suppose.” The man in green agrees. 

The man in blue huffs and nudges his friend with his shoulder. 

“You could at least try to be a little excited, Dream. This is our new adventure. Our new home.” 

They both stare silently at the nature around them. The shorter man nudges Dream again to get his attention. 

Dream reaches into one of his pockets to pull out fingerless leather gloves. He tugs them on. The man in blue sighs, stepping away from Dream and mopping his brow. 

Dream removes the white disk from his shoulder and fastens it over his face, his features disappearing behind the simple black and white smile. 

He flips his ax off his back and into his hand, starting towards a tree. 

A simple inclination of his chin has his companion following after him dutifully. 

“Let’s get to work George.” Dream says. 

The forest carries the sound of an ax chopping wood and the bleating of sheep being silenced by expert sword strokes.

Chapter Text

George walks the rows of crops on the farm, inspecting the growth. The sprouts are already doing nicely, pushing their brave stems through the earth. He suspects they’ll have more than enough to feed their small community. 

From the nearly completed community house next to the farm comes the muffled sound of hammering and scraping wood as Sapnap finishes the roof and Dream and Bad move around furniture. 

“Shit, Bad, careful with Beckerson.” Dream curses, his voice carrying through the open windows and unfinished roof of the structure. 

“Careful with your language.” Bad fires back. George shakes his head, squatting down to pluck a few weeds from the potato crops. 

The tilled soil smells of sunshine and earth. George absently scoops up a handful of dirt and lets it filter back through his fingers. He looks to the lake where a few ducks are swimming peacefully in circles. 

Sapnap and Callahan had shown up in the lake in their tiny rowboat a few days after Dream and George had begun creating their new home. George doesn’t know where Sapnap and Callahan came from, and some days, it doesn’t seem like they know either. Nevertheless, the pair seemed harmless enough, and Sapnap, with his wild black hair barely contained by a white strip of cloth, and cunning smirk, had charmed Dream into letting them stay without much effort. 

George stands up, dusting off his hands and heading inside the community house. 

He eyes the clutter of weapons on the floor that the boys had clearly been too lazy to put away properly in a chest. Sapnap’s bow and arrow, Dream’s ax and various wicked looking knives, Bad’s red engraved sword. 

“Oh, George, you’re back. Please help, I’m terrible at decorating.” Dream begs, stepping away from the bookshelf he had been moving with Bad.

He’s not wrong about being terrible at decorating. His house is more of an underground bunker, right under the community house. George is sure that it cannot be the most welcoming or domestic place to rest, but then again, George hasn’t ever seen Dream sleep either. 

“For convenience. And because it wouldn’t look good.” Dream had said when George had asked him why he couldn’t build himself a house outside near everyone else’s. 

“So he can be closer to you.” Sapnap had teased, crunching on an apple loudly. 

“I don’t even live in the community house.” George had grumbled, walking away from Sapnap’s cackling. 

The hammering from the roof stopped and Sapnap swung himself down through the hole in the roof, landing behind Bad with impressive agility. 

“Boo.” He whispers. Bad jumps, glowing white eyes widening in what must be surprise. 

More shadow than man, it’s always a struggle to guess just what the devil horned hunter is feeling, although Sapnap swears up and down that Bad glows red when he’s happy. 

“I think we can call it a day for now boys. The house is almost finished, and if I have to listen to Bad and Dream argue over crafting table placement for another second, I might start shooting them.” Sapnap grins, throwing his arm around Bad, somehow finding solid purchase on the shadowy man’s shoulder. The first time George had reached out to shake Bad’s hand he had been sure his hand would pass right through the other like smoke. 

“Thank god.” Dream sighs, already walking over to the weapons pile to collect his stuff. 

“How’s the farm?” Bad asks, shaking off Sapnap’s arm and catching his sword easily when Dream throws it at him. 

“Good. The crops look good, we shouldn’t have any worries. I watered them for today.” George assures. 

“Thanks George,” Dream nods his appreciation at his friend. “Sapnap and I are going out hunting. Did either of you want to come?” He asks, flitting his gaze between Bad and George. 

Bad shakes his head. 

“I have some building on my own house to finish. But I’ll see you boys tomorrow.” He says, making his way out of the community house, inky black tail flicking behind him. 

“Gogy? Care for some hunting time with your best buds?” Sapnap wheedles, strapping on the battered armor he had brought with him when he first arrived. 

“Not today. I’m going mining.” 

Dream tilts his head at George. George imagines that behind Dream’s mask he’s raising an eyebrow. 

Sapnap shrugs, checking to make sure his quiver is full of arrows. 

“Suit yourself.” He says, and turns to leave. Dream stands facing George for a few more seconds before he too turns away and follows Sapnap out the door.

George surveys the interior of the community house. It’s nearly finished, with decorated wooden floors, bookshelves, chests and crafting tables for all to use in the space between the large glass windows. The giant fish tank that took ages to make but was worth it for the happiness of Beckerson and Mr.Squeegee. (Or so Bad said when he watched the fish swimming around, the light from the windows catching on their scales and creating rainbows across Bad’s chest.) Beds upstairs for travelers or new additions to the town. Ponk and Alyssa’s things stored in the chests next to two of the beds while they make their own homes. 

George grabs a pickaxe and some torches and exits the house himself, carefully shutting the wooden door behind him. 

The air is dry down in the mine, and George constantly finds himself reaching for his water canteen. He continues picking away at the cobblestone being careful not to leave any valuable resource behind. He’s deep down now, the darkness almost suffocating with the way it swallows any area not lit by the feeble glow of George’s torches. 

A little bit of darkness has never scared George though. He coughs a little, trying to expel some of the dust from his lungs. He takes another sip of water, and continues on. 

The scratching in his throat is all worth it when George sees the first shine of diamond ore in the flickering firelight. He hefts his tired pickaxe with burning arms and swings at the precious metal. 

By the time George leaves the mine it’s nearly 1 AM, and the spiders are out. Even the rather harrowing run-in he has with a hissing spider is worth it when George returns to his small home in the trees with enough diamond for a full set of gear. 

From beside Ponk’s lemon tree sapling, Dream strokes the mane of the horse he’d found while hunting with Sapnap and watches the firelight in George’s house be lit as the dark haired man lets himself in and stows away his things. There’s a pause and subtle clinking of armor and then the candle is blown out. Dream pushes the mask up his forehead to let his new horse nuzzle his cheek softly before trudging back to the basement of the community house. 

Ponk’s lemon tree grows quicker than George would have thought possible. Within a few short days the tree’s leaves are clustered thickly and delicate white blossoms have started to appear. Alyssa promises to make the residents of the town all kinds of lemon treats when the citrus fruit is ready. 

The community house has long since been completed, it’s stone and brick facade contrasted with window boxes full of various plants Dream and George had collected from the forest. 

Connected to the paths branching off of the community house are the various completed homes of the residents. Sam, Alyssa, Ponk, Dream, George, Sapnap, Callahan, and Bad aren’t together often, but they occasionally make the time to fish together, their legs growing tanned from the time spent under the sun, dangling their feet off of the pier. (Bad doesn’t tan, to the dismay of Sapnap who had bet Dream a few chickens that if he got sunburnt, Bad would turn red) 

The official start of summer is ushered in with the cloying scent of lemons in the air. The beating sun makes almost everyone forgo full armor and supply gathering in favor of splashing through the lake or just lying under the shade of the trees. 

George is content in these moments, all of his friends wearing nothing but thin t-shirts and shorts, groaning about the heat and teasing Dream for never taking off his mask, even though everyone can see the sweat rolling down his neck. 

Sam fashions himself a crown one day, which Sapnap ridicules endlessly. 

“What are you the ruler of?” He snorts. 

Bad giggles. 

Sam just rolls his eyes and straightens his crown. 

Ponk pulls up fistfulls of grass and scatters them in Alyssa’s bleached hair. She swats at his hand. 

George and Dream just watch quietly, propped up against the scratchy bark of a tree. George’s eyes flutter halfway closed. Dream has one knee bent and tucked against his chest, his arm resting on it gently. 

Spirit, Dream’s horse grazes in the meadow behind them, occasionally making soft snuffling noises. 

George thinks that these moments really do make it home. 

The nether portal is icy on George’s skin, it feels like being drenched in cold syrup, even with fully enchanted armor. When he appears in the nether he takes a few moments to blink behind his goggles, grip tightening on his sword. He’s not a huge fan of the nether and it’s inhospitable background of lava, but it is the best place to get resources. He usually comes here with Dream, who will watch his back and keep him company while the two mine, but George had been unable to find Dream this morning. 

George has barely taken two steps onto the rocky ground when he hears someone emerge through the portal. He tenses, turning with his sword raised. 

“Oh, Dream. You scared me.” 

George relaxes once he recognizes his friend, loosening the grip on his sword. 

“Sorry.” Dream says, shaking his head to clear the effects of the portal. 

Sapnap steps through the portal behind Dream. He offers George a half smile. 

“Sorry about this George.” Sapnap shrugs. 

George stands confused, his blade still dangling pointed at the ground. 

“Sorry about what?” 

Dream’s own sword, although of a simple craft, is made all the more terrifying by the man wielding it. He raises it to George’s nose. George goes cross eyed trying to look at it. 

“I’m going to need you to hand over your enchanted gear. It’s nothing personal.” Dream says, his voice even. 

“Dream, what?” 

George is used to seeing Dream with weapons out, but it’s never been aimed at him before. 

“You’re leagues ahead of everyone else here. You can have nice stuff, but this is too much power.”

“Dream. Don’t you trust me?” George pleads. 

Dream just stares. 

It’s moments like these that George hates the mask the most. The way he can’t see Dream’s eyes, can’t find a hint of emotion in his friend other than the slight stiffness of his stance. He’d rip the damn thing off if he could. But he can’t, and he won’t. He isn’t afraid of what he’ll find behind the mask. He’s seen Dream without it before. He’s more afraid of what he won’t see. 

George stares at Dream through his own goggles, hoping they’re doing their job and simply reflecting back the dotted smile instead of George’s questioning eyes. 

“I do,” Dream answers finally, “But I still can’t let you have this much power. I promise it’s not personal, I’d do the same if it was Sapnap or Bad or anyone else. You would do the same to me.” 

George wouldn’t, no one would really dare stand up to Dream, not even him. 

So he removes his armor and tosses it into a pile near Sapnap. Histhrows his sword on top. 

Dream jerks his head, and Sapnap looks at George apologetically before kicking the gear into the lava. George doesn’t react. 

Dream lowers his sword. 

“Sorry. You can make more later.” He says, and George nods curtly, stealing his face into a mask of his own. 

Sapnap and George lean against the doorway of the community house, squinting at Dream laying down a path in the distance. 

He expanded off of the path they had already built to get from the center of the lake to the mainland, the wooden planks now stretching far off across the land. 

“Should we help him?” Sapnap asks, folding his arms across his chest. 

“I already offered. It seems like he wants to do this himself.” George explains, watching Dream start another row of oak planks. 

“There is something deeply wrong with him.” Sapnap mutters, and George laughs. 

“Oh Dream!” George calls down the path. Dream spins around. His mask is tilted up for once, so that he can hold nails in his mouth, but he’s too far away to distinguish much of his features.

“Sure you don’t want help?” 

“No thanks. Go to bed George.” He gets back to work. 

Sapnap cackles uproariously. 

“Go to bed George, did you hear that? God that’s too good. Do you need Dream to come give you a glass of warm milk and tuck you in?” 

George shoves Sapnap playfully. 

“Shut up.” 

Sapanap laughs all the way back to his house. 

Under the sheet of darkness that settles over the village, Dream continues to build his wooden path deep into the forest.

Chapter Text

Tommy tears off his socks and shoes and throws them next to a rock. He rolls up the cuffs of his jeans to just below his knees and splashes into the creek, cursing at the unexpected biting chill of the water. The floor of the creek is soft silt, Tommy digs his feet into the muck. 

“Are you coming in? The water’s warm!” Tommy lies, grinning at Tubbo who’s sitting on the bank methodically untying his shoes and setting them neatly next to Tommy’s. Tubbo rolls his eyes, eyeing Tommy’s gritted teeth as water splashes up his calves. 

“Just a moment.” 

Tubbo rolls up his own pant legs and steps into the creek gingerly, hissing at the cold. 

Venturing into the creek had seemed like a good idea when he and Tommy had seen the quiet trickling waters, after hours of cooking under the sun. Tubbo wishes he had just chosen to wear shorts instead of letting Tommy talk him into cooling off in the creek. 

“Took you long enough.” Tommy says once Tubbo is in the shallow water. Tubbo scrunches his nose at the teasing. 

Tommy gets a wicked look on his face, one Tubbo knows well. Tommy bends down and splashes freezing water at Tubbo before Tubbo has a chance to move away. 

“Tommy!” Tubbo complains, shivering. Tommy lets out a gasping laugh that is quickly cut off when Tubbo retaliates. 

The two boys splash their way across the creek, feet sinking into the mud and letting out a few gasps of pain when they occasionally step on a particularly sharp rock. 

After both boys are properly soaked Tommy sticks out a hand to Tubbo. 

“Truce?” 

Tubbo shakes it. 

“Truce.” 

Tommy throws himself onto the other creek bank, lying on his back and panting, squinting up at the sun that filters through the trees. His red and white tee is plastered to his skin and muddy in various patches. Tubbo flops next to him on his belly, pillowing his head in his arms, dark brown hair dripping. 

A few bees buzz around the boys, inspecting their hair before moving away to the patch of flowers a short while away. Tubbo watches the tiny creatures delightedly. 

He suddenly sits up, something in the distance catching his eye. He pokes at Tommy’s shoulder. 

“Tommy, look. What’s that?” 

Tommy rolls onto his side and follows the direction of Tubbo’s finger. 

“I dunno. Let’s go check it out.” 

They heave themselves off of the moss and pick their way through the forest. They stop short at some wooden structure. It’s a crudely constructed wooden path, out of place and with seemingly little reason to its location. It stretches far into the woods. Tommy and Tubbo have explored most of the areas around their house extensively, and have never seen the path before. It’s almost like it appeared overnight. 

“We should see where it leads.” Tommy says excitedly, ready to start down the path, shoes or no shoes. Tubbo tugs him back. 

“Tommy, we can’t go now! The sun is almost going down. And besides, we can’t just go without telling Wilbur and Phil. Who knows how long the path is! Or where it goes!”

Tommy sighs. He flicks his eyes back and forth between the path and the shorter boy next to him. His gaze finally lands, resigned, on Tubbo.

“Yeah, you’re right. Come on, we better head back.” 

He spares one last longing glance at the path before he and Tubbo make their way back to the creek, splashing across to where they left their shoes. They begin the walk home, shoving each other gently and laughing loudly was they recount their day. 

The boys get home just before nightfall, letting themselves into the log cabin as quietly as they can manage. 

Tommy presses a finger to his lips, motioning for Tubbo to leave their muddy things by the door and head for the stairs. 

“Hey boys.” A voice calls from another room of the house. 

“Aw, shit.” Tommy groans. 

He and Tubbo enter the family room with heads hung. 

A fire is crackling in the fireplace, bathing the room in a warm glow. Phil sits in his large leather armchair, picking something that looks suspiciously like spaghetti sauce out of his wings. Wilbur lies stretched out on the fraying rug, nose buried in a book. He looks up absently at Tommy and Tubbo, smiling at his brothers before pushing his glasses up his nose and returning to his book. 

In the connected kitchen, two dinner plates are set out on the oak table. 

Phil raises an eye at the teenagers, waiting for an explanation. Tubbo nudges Tommy to say something. 

“Heeey Dad. Sorry we’re late. We went farther than we thought. But we found a path in the woods, and I want to explore it tomorrow but Tubbo said we should ask you first so can we please explore this path tomorrow we promise we’ll be good! Ooh! Is that spaghetti for us?” 

Phil’s eyes crinkle kindly at Tommy’s rambling. 

“It’s for you. Go eat. I’m going to bed, but we’ll talk in the morning about this path of yours, I promise.” Phil stands up, his wings folding up behind him. He ruffles Tommy and Tubbo’s hair gently before heading upstairs. 

“Night Dad.” Wilbur, Tommy and Tubbo call. 

“Goodnight boys.” 

Tommy and Tubbo scarf down the lukewarm spaghetti, not talking as they busy themselves eating. 

Wilbur enters the kitchen, cheek red from where it had been resting in his palm. 

“What did you find in the woods?” He asks, taking a seat at the table next to his little brothers. 

“A path! A wooden path, and we’ve never seen it before.” Tommy gushes around a mouthful of food. 

“A path…” Wilbur muses, “Can I come with you tomorrow to check it out?” 

The younger boys nod excitedly. It’s not every day their older brother decides to follow along on one of their adventures, usually content to stay at home with Phil reading a book or messing around with his guitair. 

“Yeah of course you can Wilbur!” Tubbo smiles and Wilbur smiles back. 

“Alright, thanks. I’ll be off to bed then too. See you in the morning.” 

They echo back good night wishes, finishing their food and placing their dishes in the wash basin. 

The bedroom Tommy and Tubbo share is small, bunk bed crammed against one wall and two small dressers on the other. The floor is littered with laundry and shoes and various weaponry Phil has always insisted they know how to use. The brothers share almost everything, but their most important possessions they keep in their backpacks. Tommy’s music discs carefully wrapped in a leather case along with a few odd crystals he’d found in the woods make their home in his old beat up bag. Tubbo’s backpack holds a scrapbook of pressed leaves and flowers and the folded piece of paper with his name that he’d been found with, all those years ago at the base of a tree when he had only been 3 years old. The backpacks lie together by the door, always ready for any adventure the boys decide to go on. 

The walls are covered with drawings of their home, and sketches of insects, mostly drawn by Tubbo. A faded photograph of the three brothers and Phil is taped up by the door, and an incomplete map of the area surrounding the cabin is tacked to the wall haphazardly. A carved wooden sign, the letters clearly made by young children reads: “Tommy and Tubbo’s room!” with painted smiles and bees. 

Tommy tugs off his jeans in favor of soft pajama bottoms and a red sweatshirt, tossing Tubbo his own PJ bottoms and green sweatshirt. 

Tubbo checks on his butterfly terrarium, inspecting the newly formed chrysalis. 

Tommy pulls a charcoal pencil from his backpack and sketches the wooden path onto the map, drawing a question mark by it. 

He climbs the ladder to his top bunk, tiredly pulling the blankets over himself. Tubbo clambers into the bottom bunk, rolling to face the wall and sighing deeply. 

“Goodnight Tommy.” Tubbo whispers up. 

“Night Tubbo.” Tommy whispers back, shutting his eyes. They let the sound of the crickets outside their window lull them to sleep. 

Phil isn’t in the house when Tommy stumbles downstairs, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and sandy hair sticking up everywhere. He spreads some peanut butter on a slice of bread and chews tiredly, not acknowledging Wilbur who’s already nursing a cup of coffee. Tubbo follows shortly after, preparing his own breakfast with the same level of energy. Wilbur wordlessly pushes two more cups of coffee at the two. 

Once the caffeine has kicked in Tommy wakes up enough to recognize their Dad is nowhere to be found. 

“Where’s Dad?” 

“Dunno,” Wilbur shrugs, refilling his coffee. “He was gone when I woke up.” 

The front door opens just than, the familiar rustling of Phil’s wings a comforting sound. 

Phil enters the kitchen in full gear, sword at his waist. Wilbur eyes it warily. 

“Something wrong?” 

“Nothing at all. Just went to go check out that path of yours Tommy, and you can never be too careful.” Phil shucks off his grey coat, hanging it up on the rack. 

“What did you find? Can we go? Please!” Tommy folds his hands pleadingly, blue eyes bright. Tubbo nods violently in agreement. 

Phil smiles sadly. 

“You can go-” Tommy and Tubbo cheer, and even Wilbur looks thrilled. 

Phil raises a finger. 

“But I must warn you. This is not the same as finding a new spot for a fort or a nest of foxes. This is a new world entirely. Someone built that path, and I don’t know who. I’m not going to stop you from going, although I don’t think I really could if I tried. You’re old enough to make your own way in the world. I think we’ve all known for a while you boys weren’t going to stay here forever.” 

“You’re talking like we aren’t going to come back.” Tubbo says, brown eyes widening. 

“It’s a long journey, and a long path. And I know you boys. Once you reach whatever it is you’re looking for, whatever or whoever is at the end of that path, I don’t think you’ll want to leave.” 

It’s the oldest the three boys have ever seen Phil look, still in his traveling clothes, a few lines noticeable around his eyes. Pale hair a stark contrast to pitch black wings. 

“Well we don’t have to go then! Or you can come with us!” Tubbo offers. Tommy kicks him under the table. 

“Sorry.” Tubbo mouths at him. 

Phil shakes his head. 

“No, you have to go. There are things for you to learn, mistakes for you to make. Maybe other people too, and you don’t want to spend your whole life living with your dad do you? It’s time. I’m ready, and I think you are too. Finish up your breakfast and get packed. There’s a long road ahead of you.” 

The wooden path stretches in front of Wilbur, Tommy and Tubbo. The three brothers clutch tightly to their packs, traveling cloaks fastened securely around the shoulders of the younger boys. Phil double checks that each boy’s sword is properly sheathed at their waist. 

Birds chirp their early morning song and the sun has not yet reached full force. 

Tommy is practically bouncing in excitement, eyes shining as he thinks about just what could be at the end of the path. Tubbo bites his lip worriedly. He’d never admit it because Tommy would tease him-although in the end still bend to Tubbo’s wishes-but he would be perfectly fine with staying at home with Phil forever, spending summers getting terribly freckled from all of Tommy’s outdoor expeditions. But he knows that even though he loves Phil, who adopted him when he was young and raised him as his own, he’s sworn to himself to follow Tommy wherever he goes. And Tommy longs to see more of the forest, more of their world. 

Wilbur appraises the path carefully, a few curls falling over his eyes. He pats the pocket of his trench coat, making sure he has his glasses. 

Phil’s large wings encircle the boys for a moment in a semblance of a hug. 

“Be well.” He murmurs. He releases them from the shelter of his wings. 

“Goodbye Dad.” Tommy says, head held high and proud. 

“Bye Dad. Thank you.” Tubbo tries to mimic Tommy’s resolute tone of voice, but it cracks a little. 

Phil places a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder, nodding him forward. Tommy offers Tubbo a smile and starts forward onto the path with determined strides. Tubbo follows behind immediately. 

“Take care of your brothers Wilbur.” Phil orders, his pale eyes meeting Wilbur’s dark ones. 

“I will. I promise.” Wilbur holds his father’s gaze until Phil nods, satisfied and steps back to let Wilbur follow his brothers down the path. Tommy is already singing some song about adventures and glory, long, gangly legs making it difficult for Tubbo to keep up. 

Wilbur tugs his beanie down tightly and begins walking. 

None of the three look back. 

Chapter Text

The brothers hear the water before they see it.

Gentle splashes promise refreshing liquid that is more valuable than any gemstone to the three boys who have been walking under blistering July heat for what felt like forever.

"You said you wanted an adventure. And it's only been like two weeks." Wilbur says, rolling his eyes at Tommy, who was practically wilting.

"Yeah! And that's pretty much forever," Tommy shoots back. "Look at Tubbo! I think he's melting!"

Tubbo was indeed looking particularly sweaty, eyes drooping tiredly as he plods along behind his brothers. Wilbur eyes the shortest boy worriedly.

"I'm fine!" Tubbo insists, waving away the concern.

Two weeks on the wooden path was starting to take its toll. The food supplies were slowly running out, and it had been over a day since the brothers had last been able to refill their water canteens. There was no escape from the summer heat, it rippled through the air and dried out their skin and mouths within seconds of waking up. Tommy's nose was sunburnt red, and Tubbo's thin arms were dotted with a new array of freckles. Wilbur's attempt at using his beanie to protect his head only made him sweat more, and the trees offered little protection, especially when the thicket had started to thin.

"Why were none of us born with wings like Phil? We could've been at the end of this path days ago!" Tommy whines.

"Maybe it never ends," Tubbo whispers in horror. "Also, I'm adopted, so that at least explains my lack of wings."

Tommy smiles weakly at the joke.

"Shh." Wilbur hushes, suddenly stopping short, causing his brothers to crash into his back.

Tommy rubs at his forehead.

"What the hell man, give a guy some warning would ya-"

"Shhh!" Wilbur hushes again.

Tommy and Tubbo quiet dutifully, perking their heads for whatever it was Wilbur was listening for.

Tubbo hears it first.

"Water!" He breaks into a grin, tugging Tommy's arm excitedly. "I can hear water! Can you hear the splashes Tommy?"

Tommy nods rapidly.

"I hear it big man! Come on, we have to be close!"

Their energies renewed, the three brothers quicken their pace, ignoring the screaming of the soles of their feet and the ache in their legs.

The path stretches right onto the lake, and Tommy and Tubbo run right to the center, ignoring everything else as they bend to fill their canteens with the cold water. Wilbur moves slower, looking at the carefully tended farm plots and various buildings labeled with signs that are too far away for him to read.

Although the village is clearly occupied, not a single soul was around, the only sounds of chirping birds and clucking chickens.

Tommy and Tubbo gulp greedily at their water, drinking their fill before finally looking around.

"A village! Is this the end of the path?" Tubbo's eyes widen in awe.

"I bet it is Tubbo, and the people who made the path live here. Why would they make such a long path though? And who lives here? Where are they?" Tommy whips his head around to survey the area.

"Be on your guard boys, we don't know whether the people who live here are welcoming to visitors." Wilbur warns, his words falling on deaf ears as Tubbo wanders away, farther down the path to a large brick structure with flower boxes on the windows.

"This sign says welcome to the community house!" Tubbo calls back, and Tommy runs to join him.

"Should we knock?" Tubbo asks.

The question had barely been uttered before Tommy starts rapping loudly on the wooden door, much to Wilbur's dismay. Wilbur keeps one hand to the pocket where Phil had insisted he keep a dagger.

The door swings open and a man in a short sleeved blue button up and dark shorts appears in the entryway. He stands still for a moment, looking at the two teenagers and Wilburs lurking figure behind them before pushing his tinted goggles up his forehead into shortly chopped brown hair.

His face breaks into a welcoming smile.

"I'm George. Who are you?"

"I'm Tommy, and these are my brothers Tubbo and Wilbur. We live a really long way away but Tubbo and I found this path in the woods one day, and we wanted to follow it, so our dad Phil told us we could go make our own way in the world, and that once we reached whatever it was we were looking for we would probably want to make our home there. I feel like this might be what we've been looking for. Is this your village? Are you the only one here? Can we live here?"

Tommy fires off his questions and George looks surprised at the rapid talking of the boy. Wilbur sighs deeply and Tubbo looks at his brother admiringly.

George opens his mouth to respond when another voice cut into the mix.

"George? Who are you talking to?"

A taller man stands over George's shoulder, wearing similar attire to George, save for a white smiley face mask. He doesn't push the mask up.

"Dream, this is Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur. They found your path deep in the woods and followed it here."

Dream appraises the travel worn trio. Seemingly judging them to be acceptable-or at least not an immediate threat- he nods at the brothers and sticks out a gloved hand.

"I'm Dream. Welcome to our land I guess."

Wilbur reaches an arm over to shake Dream's hand. They shake tightly.

"If they're going to be staying, you better catch them up on all of the rules and things. Show them where they might want to start building. I'll go look around for Sap and Bad. They might want to say hi to our new arrivals."

Dream flips an ax onto his back and claps a hand to George's shoulder before exiting the doorway of the community house and skirting around the brothers to make his way down the path. He turns slightly over one shoulder.

"It was nice to meet you guys."

He walks away.

"Wow." Tommy breathes, gazing after the masked man with wide eyes. George rolls his own eyes at Dream.

"Come on inside, let's get you set up with some beds and some food. I'm sure you're starving, you've been travelling for a while, right?"

He beckons the brothers inside the community house.

Wilbur closes the door behind them.

"Oh come on Dream, I was only joking!" Tommy whines, holding out his palms in surrender.

Dream doesn't lower his sword, the blade glittering under the sun.

"Dream come on, you know I didn't mean it." Tommy contines, to little effect. He huffs, folding his arms over his chest.

"I'm just messing around." Tommy's bottom lip juts out defiantly.

Dream lowers his sword and Tommy relaxes.

Suddenly, Dreams' free hand grips at Tommy's red shirt collar, tugging Tommy's eyes upward to meet Dream's mask.

"Uh... Dream?"

"Tommy. This has been going on for too long. First you took supplies from other residents houses-"

"Well I didn't know! We had just moved here, give me a break. And I gave everyone's stuff back!"

"You destroyed part of the courthouse-"

"That was an accident. Accidents happen Dream, I said I was sorry and Tubbo and I fixed all the damage!"

"You won't stop swearing at Bad-"

"Oh you can't mean to tell me you haven't sworn at Bad just to tease him a little bit. And I swear at everyone! Fuck! See! I just swore at you. It's not personal, Bad just always says 'language' and it's too fun to mess with him, you know?"

"You continually annoy Ponk-"
"I think this is Ponk's problem. Really. George said we could build our houses wherever we wanted and there was an empty plot of land next to Ponk's house! How was I supposed to know that I'm not a 'desirable neighbor'? And we built a fence and everything. Did he tell you I messed with his chickens? Because I didn't mean to kill Kanye. I didn't know Ponk was so attached to his chickens! And Ponk's the one who put traps in my house."

"Okay, maybe he did. But you antagonized him to do it. Ponk wasn't really the pranking type before, but you killed his chicken! Not to mention, you broke George's arm-"

"Did you hear what he said to me? What he did with the crafting table? I'm a minor Dream!"

"You broke his arm! George!"

"I said I was sorry!"

"And the decoration in your house is awful-"

"I don't really see how that's relevant-"

"And you broke George's arm!"

"Yeah, you mentioned that one," Tommy mumbles, looking down at where Dream's hand is still clutching at his t-shirt.

"You've caused nothing but trouble here Tommy." Dream says, his voice cold end even. Tommy shivers.

He, Wilbur, and Tubbo had been living in the village for a little over a month now. His house near Ponk's had been recently completed, so Tommy spent a good portion of every day helping Tubbo with his own house. It had been a bit of a surprise, when Tubbo had said he wanted to have his own space, near the wooden path. The brothers had been sharing the same room for their entire lives.

Tommy still isn't used to sleeping in a bedroom alone, often drowning out the empty silence that comes from the lack of Tubbo's deep even breaths by playing his music discs softly in the corner.

Wilbur is usually out and about, hanging out with George, Sapnap, and Dream or another new arrival: Punz. Every so often Wilbur will check in on his younger brothers but mostly keeps to himself. Tommy spends more time than he is really comfortable with alone, with his own thoughts.

So he builds things; like random towers that Badboyhalo insisted were a blight on the landscape. He starts constructing underground waterways that led from his house to all the other houses. (They're quite useful for pranking Tubbo, but Dream, unfortunately, blocked off the entrance to his basement home of the community house) If Tubbo is busy building or drawing, Tommy will find someone else to "bother", following different residents around asking question after question in hope that one of them might stop to talk to him, or at least laugh at some of his jokes.

He constantly begs Dream to let him ride his horse Spirit, (the answer is always no), and plays harmless pranks on his brothers until finally Tubbo or Wilbur agree to go fishing or exploring.

Truth be told, his grand adventure, his new life, is a lot lonelier than Tommy had pictured. But he doesn't mean to cause trouble or at least any serious damage to the village or its residents. He just wants to have a little fun.

Tommy bites his lip, his sandy blonde hair falling into his eyes as he stares at his feet.

"I'm sorry Dream." He finally mumbles, scuffing his feet on the grass.

Dream looks at Tommy's guilty form through his mask. The boy is tall and gangly, but he looks smaller than Tubbo for just a moment.

Dream lets go of Tomy's shirt, and Tommy bounces back quickly, breathing a sigh of relief.

"See that your behavior changes. There's a difference between a harmless prank and straight-up annoying the shit out of everyone here, okay? And any more injuries of residents will result in a temporary banishment." Dream warns.

"I promise I'll be good from now on!" Tommy grins, braces gleaming, taking off for Tubbo's house, surely to spin his encounter with Dream into a near-death experience full of curse words and heroics.

Dream's eye twitches behind his mask.

"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. What am I going to do with you?" He muses before starting towards George's house to ask after George's broken arm and make sure Sapnap doesn't break the other one.

Dream treads carefully down the stairs of the community house. He really should get around to fixing the creak in the fourth stair. He's forgone armor, seeing as this is his own living quarters, but his ever-present ax rests against his back and a dagger is rather haphazardly shoved into the pocket of his green hoodie.

Dream moves past his neatly made bed that he never sleeps in and the wall of chests laden with armor, weapons, and various supplies. A few loaves of bread have been left on the dusty kitchen table, probably from George. Dream grabs one and tears off a hunk for himself, slipping it under his mask.

He continues to the bookshelf and kicks the switch. A panel slides open and Dream feels around for a torch. He sets the bread down on one of the other shelves and lights the torch. It flares up instantly, a wave of heat creeping under his mask. Dream picks the loaf back up and descends into the passageway, shutting the panel behind him.

It's a long way down. Far deeper than Tommy's sewer system to ensure that the curious teen doesn't stumble upon something he shouldn't.

The secret room is surprisingly not heavily fortified, considering the effort Dream put into burying it. The tiny cube carved into the stone, would, by all accounts, be easily escapable.

Ranboo doesn't have any intentions to escape. His room has all the essentials, Dream visits him weekly, and Ranboo usually prefers the company of his Enderman brethren to other humans. There isn't anything above the surface for him anyways. Dream always says that it's better for him to stay down here working on his writing, that he'll call for Ranboo if he needs him. For what Dream would need him for, Ranboo doesn't know. He's not much of a fighter, and his only real skill is minimal teleportation abilities.

"Hey, Ranboo." Dream greets, tossing the loaf of bread at the boy, who's turned around writing at his small desk. Ranboo flickers before blinking so that he's facing forward, catching the bread nimbly.

"Hello Dream." Ranboo says, pointed ears perking up. He starts chewing the bread, the white and black sides of his mouth both curving up in a hint of a grateful smile.

Ranboo's hair is getting long, Dream thinks idly, perched on Ranboo's bed and looking at the stark white and black locks that frame Ranboo's sharp features and almost extend down to his shoulders. Dream thinks he should offer to cut it, but he's hopeless with scissors. George usually cuts Dream's hair for him, and George doesn't know that Ranboo is here.

"How's the journaling going?" Dream asks, motioning towards the open notebook, ink well, and quill poised next to it.

Ranboo shrugs, his white dress shirt stretching against his shoulders.

"I still can't remember any of my memories from the other place you told me about. Are you sure you can't just tell me where I came from?" Ranboo doesn't sound frustrated, Dream notes, just blank.

"You know I don't know that either. You just sort of showed up one day in the other place with me." Dream answers truthfully, although he watches Ranboo's dual-colored eyes for any hint of heightened self-awareness. Ranboos features stay frozen as always, locked in a seemingly permanent state of confusion.

Ranboo nods, the bright glow of his green and red eyes dimming.

"I'll keep working on it. What's been going on with you?"

"Nothing at all Ranboo. Life as usual."

Ranboo nods again but stays silent. He doesn't have anything else to say, he can barely remember his own name on a good day, much less engage in small talk.

Dream picks up on this and stands up from the bed, brushing imaginary crumbs off of his pants.

"Well, I'll see you next week, okay?" He ruffles Ranboo's hair in an attempt at a fond act, but as always, Ranboo just stares blankly.

"Okay Dream," Ranboo says, already turning around to get back to his notebook. Dream peers at the pages over Ranboo's head. They're blank, and he knows that if he flipped to any of the other pages they would be blank too.

Dream begins his climb back up the stone stairs to the surface. When he exits the community house and steps back into the sunshine, the air smells of smoke.

"Alright, who the fuck burnt down my tree?" Ponk is yelling, clutching a few charred lemons threateningly. Dream shoots a questioning glance at George, who shrugs in response. Alyssa places a comforting hand on Ponk's shoulder.

Tommy and Tubbo come out of Tubbo's house, looking confused. Dream's eyes light upon Tommy instantly.

"Tommy..."

Tommy's face goes red with indignation.

"What!?"

"Did you burn down Ponk's tree?" Dream asks.

"He couldn't have! He's been helping me build all day." Tubbo insists, stepping forward in front of his brother.

"He's telling the truth Dream, I haven't seen Tommy since this morning when he borrowed some dyes for Tubbo." George explains. Tommy shoots the brunette a grateful look.

"Then who burnt down my lemon tree!?" Ponk yells again.

Bad slinks out of the shadows to stand beside Ponk, who jumps a little.

"I'm pretty sure Sapnap did," Bad says, inspecting his sharply filed claws.

"Sapnap!" Ponk spits, looking around for the black-haired man.

"Speak of the devil..." Tubbo murmurs, looking at where Sapnap is coming from the direction of the mines. His white headband is coming untied and the flame pattern printed on his graphic tee is almost mocking. He reeks of smoke.

"Hey guys-" He starts.

"Sapnap! Did you burn down my lemon tree?" Ponk demands. Sapnap sucks air through his teeth.

"Yeees? It was an accident though buddy, I'm so sorry. You can grow a new one?"

Ponk starts toward Sapnap threateningly but Alyssa pulls him back. She whispers something in Ponk's ear that makes him calm down. Dream and George exchange another look.

"Fine. But you have to deal with all the damage to the land. And please take a bath, you reek." Ponk grits out, before turning on his heel and heading back to his house, Alyssa following behind. The rest of the small crowd disperses, George admonishing Sapnap for his pyro excursion.

"It wasn't even me this time!" Tommy says gleefully to Tubbo.

In the early hours of the next morning, smoke once again fills the air, the thick grey clouds curling into the pale sky before the sun has even risen.

Ponk and Alyssa hide their matches.

Sapnap's enraged shouting can be heard throughout the village as his house burns to the ground.

Chapter Text

“Tommy!” Sapnap shouts, slamming open the door of Tommy’s house. Tommy looks up from his breakfast, shocked. Sapnap’s hair looks slightly singed and he smells of smoke. Tommy spies burn holes in the thin fabric of Sapnap’s t-shirt, revealing his black undershirt.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Tommy asks around a mouthful of food. Sapnap storms right over to the kitchen table and slams his palms down on the surface. Tommy’s dishes clatter.

“Ponk and Alyssa burnt down my house.” Sapnap grits out.

“Oh shit man-” Tommy starts but Sapnap isn’t finished.

“You like to cause trouble yeah?”

Tommy thinks, then chooses his next words carefully.

“I mean... yeah but Dream said-”

“Dream doesn’t matter. You know how the three life system works here right?”

“No?” Tommy looks at Sapnap curiously. Sapnap pulls out a chair and sits down.

“You’ve got three lives here. You can lose your first two lives and still come back. It just hurts like hell and then you spend a while in this really dark pool of water for a while and then you come back.”

“How do you know this?”

“There’s a book in the community house that keeps track of how many lives everyone has left. I have no clue who writes it, but long story short, we all have three. Dream doesn’t like killing here, because of the whole three lives thing, but Ponk and Alyssa burnt down my house. This isn’t going to be solved with a court case..”

Tommy nods slowly, making a mental note to go look for this book later.

“Alright. What are you gonna do about it?”

“I’m gonna kill them.” Sapnap says bluntly. Tommy checks Sapnap’s lightly tanned face for signs of humor. He finds none, only resolution and something sinister burning behind Sapnap’s warm brown eyes. Tommy gulps.

“And I need your help Tommy,” Sapnap continues, holding Tommy’s gaze. “Wanna cause some havoc?”

“Just to check, you are asking me to commit murder, correct?” Tommy asks. Sapnap nods impatiently.

“More or less, yeah, I guess. They aren’t going to die forever, we’re just going to teach them a little lesson. Make sure they know what too far is. They can survive on two lives just fine.”

Tommy looks around his lonely kitchen where he had been eating breakfast alone, family meals with his brothers a thing of the past. And Sapnap, the badass friend of George and Dream, the archer that barely pays Tommy any attention when they cross paths inviting Tommy on an adventure.

Tommy shrugs nonchalantly. Best not to look too eager.

“Well, I’m not doing anything else today,” He smiles toothily. “Let’s go kill these motherfuckers.”

Sapnap crows in delight and claps Tommy on the shoulder.

“Gear up and meet me at the community house in twenty minutes. You have a diamond sword?”

“Yeah I have one.”

“Great. See you soon.” Sapnap mock salutes and pushes himself out of Tommy’s chair and out the door.

Tommy scrambles for his weapon's chest.

Tommy arrives at the community house ten minutes early, armor strapped onto his shoulders and chest, and crossbow clutched tightly in his hand. His sword stays in its scabbard at his hip. He bounces in his iron-toed boots. Badboyhalo watches him oddly from where he’s feeding the fish in the fish tank.

“Whatcha doin Tommy?” The shadowy man questions, levitating up a little to better reach the top of the tank.

“Waiting for Sapnap. He’s uh… taking me hunting.” Tommy answers, tightening the straps on the armored plates covering his knees.

Sapnap rushes into the community house then, bandana tying his hair out of his eyes. He’s kept his usual white graphic tee but wrapped his arms in black bandages. His chest plate gleams dangerously and straps around his thighs have holsters for daggers. His quiver is full of sharply pointed arrows that Tommy knows Sapnap can fire off in a blink. Tommy feels a rush from seeing the warrior enter.

“Hunting you say?” Bad asks skeptically. Sapnap winks.

“Of a sort. Ready to go Tommy?”

“Oh I was born ready.” Tommy answers.

Sapnap leads Tommy out of the community house under the watchful gaze of Bad.

“How well can you climb?” Sapnap asks, leading Tommy down the path to Alyssa’s house.

“Pretty well.” Tommy answers truthfully. He and Tubbo had spent a lot of time clambering up branches in search of bird nests or just better viewing spots to watch for Phil flying home.

“Great. I’m goint to go to Ponk’s house and start fighting him, but I’m gonna let him escape. He’ll run to Alyssa for help, and when they both come down this path looking for me you’ll jump out the tree and ambush them. You can hold them both off until I get here, right?”

“Absolutely!” Tommy assures, already slinging his crossbow on his back and clambering up one of the thick oak trees.

Sapnap waits until Tommy is carefully hidden amongst the leaves, then starts running back down the path to Ponk’s house. Tommy can barely keep his excitement in, sitting high up in the tree, watching the sun glitter on the lake and reflect off of the windows of Alyssa’s house.

He can’t wait to tell Tubbo about this later, once Sapnap has gotten his revenge and Tommy won’t just be an annoying teen but a warrior who bested two older members of the server. Even Wilbur will be impressed.

Tommy hears shouting and clanging metal from the direction of Ponk’s house and he tenses, waiting. Sure enough, pounding footsteps begin echoing down the path as Ponk sprints down the wooden planks, a large gash bleeding on his arm. He presses his fingers to the wound and pounds on Alyssa’s door. She lets him in, and Tommy poises to attack. The minutes pass like hours before Ponk and Alyssa are tearing out the door again, faces red with fury and hastily prepared for battle. Ponk is bleeding through his bandage and Alyssa is still tying up her hair when Tommy drops from the tree, knees bent for the impact and sword raised.

“Hello,” Tommy smirks and lunges forward. His sword slices Alyssa’s unprotected side and she yelps in pain. Ponk turns to attack but an arrow pierces his calf, forcing him to the ground. Tommy spares a glance to the side to see Sapnap, bleeding from a cut on his cheek but grinning ear to ear, bow raised and aimed.

Tommy turns back in time to meet Alyssa’s sword with his own, the blades ringing against each other.

“Tommy, what the heck?” Alyssa gasps, ducking out of the cross blades and swinging for Tommy’s leg. He side steps and cuts another gash in her leg, ripping the fabric of her leggings and drawing blood.

“Sorry, Sapnap wanted revenge.” Tommy says, blocking another attack.

Alyssa’s hair is falling around her face and she’s sweating, whether from exertion or pain, Tommy doesn’t know. She somehow gets her sword under the Tommy’s shoulder plates and slashes. Tommy hisses.

“Come on Tommy, you know this is insane. Sapnap burned down Ponk’s tree, we burnt down his house. It’s an equal trade.”

Ponk yelps from further down the path and both Tommy and Sapnap turn to see Ponk go down fully, an arrow embedded in his side.

Sapnap pumps his fist gleefully.

Alyssa screams.

“Get her now Tommy!” Sapnap yells, and Tommy stabs on instinct, too high on the adrenaline to fully process what he’s done until Alyssa is on the ground, collapsed under a tree, Tommy’s own sword in her back.

Tommy looks up in shock at Sapnap, who’s white bandanna is soaked in blood. Ponk’s body is nowhere to be seen.

Tommy looks down just in time to see Alyssa’s body fade away, only her golden sword and Tommy’s diamond blade remaining bloodied in the dirt.

The fight was over. Tommy had just killed someone.

A shooting pain reminds Tommy of the injury in his shoulder and he presses his fingers to the spot. They come away covered in blood.

“Why don’t you go get that taken care of. Thanks for the assist kid.” Sapnap says, collecting Ponk and Alyssa’s weapons.

Tommy walks mutely to Tubbo’s house.

“Tommy! Are you alright?” Tubbo exclaims worriedly when he opens the door.

“I’m alright, I just could use some bandages and things for my shoulder. I don’t think it’s terribly wounded, there’s just a lot of uh-blood.” Tommy peels off his armor to reveal the cut. It’s not very deep but Tubbo still blanches.

“I’ll be right back. Press some cloth on it or something I think?” Tubbo rushes away, muttering to himself about how he should have paid more attention to Phil’s lessons on first aid.

Tommy presses his palm to the wound, distracting himself by looking around Tubbo’s walls. His brother has done a few more paintings since Tommy last visited, the canvases tacked crookedly on the walls. He stares intently at a painting of Ponk’s lemon tree before it burned, trying to sear away the image of Alyssa’s crumpled form.

“Tommy, how did you get a sword wound?” Tubbo asks, returning with his arms full of bandages and damp washcloths. He begins dabbing at Tommy’s shoulder gently.

“Oh you know, Ponk and Alyssa burnt down Sapnap’s house so Sapnap asked me to help him kill them.”

Tubbo makes an aggressive swipe with the washcloth and Tommy curses.

“You killed them?”

“Well they’ll come back. Apparently, everyone has three lives here, so they’ve only lost one life. They’ll be fine.”

Tubbo worries at his bottom lip with his teeth, wrapping the soft bandages around Tommy’s shoulder tightly.

“Tommy… you’ve never killed anyone before. That’s serious stuff, and remember how mad Dream was when you broke George’s arm? He’s going to be pissed! Even one life lost is serious stuff. And what if Ponk and Alyssa come to take one of your lives, what will you do? ” Tubbo’s eyes are wild.

“It’s fine Tubbo. I’m fine. And Sapnap and Dream are buddies, he won’t let me get in trouble. What we did was totally fair-”

Sapnap runs into Tubbo’s house, now sporting a shield and a crazed look in his eyes.

“Bad news Tommy, Ponk and Alyssa revived and they told Dream what we did and apparently he’s really pissed.”

Tubbo shoots Tommy an “I told you so” look.

“Well fuck.” Tommy says, panicking for a moment, remembering Dream’s smooth white mask staring into his soul as he warned Tommy not to cause any more trouble.

“It’s fine Tommy, we can take him. You all bandaged up because we have to go right now.” Sapnap urges.

“Kill Dream?” Tubbo splutters.

“Yeah, it’s not that hard and if we don’t, he’ll kill us first so let’s go Tommy.”

Tommy shakes his sandy hair out of his eyes and restraps his armor.

“Tubbo, can I borrow a shield?”

“Of course man, just… don’t die, okay?”

“I got him!” Sapnap yells back to Tommy, breathing hard as he watches Dream’s body fade away.

All of his arrows are gone, and he’d lost his shield a while ago to Dream’s ruthless sword slashes.

Tommy’s t-shirt is ripped to shreds and his hair is caked with blood. He’s breathing hard, finally relaxing when he hears Sapnap’s call. He collapses onto the path where they had been fighting, resting his back against the hillside. He shuts his eyes.

“We just killed Dream man!” Sapnap shakes Tommy’s uninjured shoulder, dumping Dream’s crossbow and gear by Tommy.

Tommy lets it sink in.

The masked warrior, so stoic and unreachable, the unspoken leader of the village, wasn’t so all-powerful after all.

The realization washes over Tommy and suddenly he feels like he could go run a few miles.

He just killed Dream. Troublemaker he may be, but Tommy was one of the big guys now, he couldn’t be pushed around.

“Tommy!” Tubbo’s worried voice jolted through Tommy’s thoughts, as the shorter boy ran towards him, brown hair flopping.

“Tubbo! We killed Dream!” Tommy bragged, waiting for his brother to stop in his tracks and beg for the story.

“Tommy.” Tubbo stopped him, and it was then that Tommy noticed just how out of breath his brother was, and what Tubbo was carrying in his hand.

It's Tommy’s beat-up red backpack, the canvas material faded and fraying.

“Tommy,” Tubbo said again, and Tommy saw the pity the moment it entered his brother's wide round eyes. “I found this on the path outside my house; I think Dream has your music discs.”

Tommy’s vision went blurry, then red.

His face heated up and his eyes bugged as the fear constricted his lungs. Not his discs.

Now that was too far.

Tommy could remember the very moment he had gotten his music discs. It had been his eighth birthday and Tommy still wasn’t sleeping very well, even with the comforting presence of Tubbo in the bunk under him, and very occasionally Wilbur camped out in a sleeping bag on the floor in their room.

Phil had gotten the vinyl records from far away, having flown for nearly a week to get them and the materials to record on them. Wilbur had written the music on his guitar, and gotten Tubbo to plonk a little on their old piano and recorded it onto the records with Phil while Tommy was out one day looking for fossils.

“To remind you that all of us are always here, no matter what.” Phil had said, smiling warmly at Tommy who was staring at the large circles curiously.

All four of them had worked on building the music box together, taking turns carving pieces and collecting materials.

Tommy wasn’t sure what it was about the whimsical tunes on the discs that made him feel so at ease, but he and Tubbo played them every night and Tommy couldn’t sleep without them.

They were his most prized possessions, they were the best physical representation of his family he would ever get, especially now with the three brothers so often apart and Phil miles and miles away.

Tommy bursts into his house, running up the stairs to his bedroom. The place had clearly been looted, clothes strewn about the floor and drawers pulled open. His music box is tipped over on the floor.

The music discs are nowhere to be found.

Tommy tears his hands through his hair, ignoring the pounding in his head as he spins on his heel and races back downstairs.

Dream sits armorless and weaponless on Tommy’s kitchen table. Even his usual leather gloves are missing, he wears only a green hoodie and jeans and his ever-present mask.

“Hey Tommy,” Dream’s mask does nothing to hide the cold fury in his voice.

“I have your discs. And I’m going to burn them.” 

Chapter Text

“I have your discs. And I’m going to burn them.” Dream says, casually inspecting his cuticles. Tommy’s blood feels like it’s freezing over. 

“No!” Tommy cries. 

Dream stops looking at his fingernails and leans forward a fraction of an inch. 

“I mean. Dream, can’t we talk about this? You don’t have to do this.” 

“Don’t I though?” Dream is toying with Tommy. He knows the boy has a short temper and it’s only a matter of time before he explodes. 

Tommy’s face heats up and he clenches his fists, his head still throbbing. 

“You don’t have to do anything you crazy son of a bitch! I thought you said no stealing here, huh? Well how dare you steal my things and go against your own words?! Where are they Dream, where are my discs you bastard?”

“Somewhere safe. You won’t find them unless I want you too.”

Tommy grits his teeth. 

“You know what you are Dream, you’re a hypocrite, that’s right a big fuckin hypocrite and you need to give me my discs back right now you have no idea how much those mean, they’re worth way more then a stupid life and some gear!” 

Dream shifts forward in interest. He’s blown Tommy’s fuse and in his rage Tommy has revealed just what Dream needs to know. 

“Tommy, you must know how this looks. I told you not to cause any more trouble and then I found out from Bad that you and Sapnap are off killing Ponk and Alyssa. And then you decide to take it just one step further and kill me .” 

Tommy makes a mental note to shout his worst curse words at Bad later. 

“Dream, you don’t understand we had to kill them. And you were just… in the wrong place at the wrong time? Please give me my discs back, you’ve stolen from me and it isn’t funny,” Tommy pleads with Dream. Dream relaxes, sliding off the kitchen table.

Dream weighs his options carefully, looking at the nervous looking teen in front of him. Tommy’s forehead has started bleeding. Dream doesn’t even think the boy has noticed. 

As much as Dream is pissed about Tommy and Sapnap killing him, Tommy’s remorse is clearly far overshadowed by his attachment to his discs. And bloodthirst fueled by desperation is something Dream can control. 

Dream folds his arms. 

“Alright. I want a formal apology Tommy. For killing Ponk and Alyssa, and for killing me. And I want my stuff back. All of my stuff. No funny business.”

“And then I can have my discs back?” Tommy asks hopefully, already perking up. 

“Then you can have your discs back.” Dream assures.

In the crook of his elbow he crosses two slender fingers. 

Tommy evaluates. As a rule, he isn’t keen on apologies, or admitting that he’s wrong, but a simple apology seems like a small price to pay for his music discs. And besides, he can always steal Dream’s stuff back later if the mood hits him. Dream can be bested, clearly, so a simple robbery can’t be that hard to pull off. 

Tommy straightens up. 

“Dream I’m really sorry for killing you and the others.” Tommy says, doing his best to keep a straight face and seem downcast. 

Dream nods. 

“And my stuff?” 

Tommy reaches for Dream’s crossbow where it’s strapped on his back. Dream grabs the weapon, and although he’s lacking any other armor, the sight still sends a shiver through Tommy. 

“Where’s the rest of it Tommy?” 

“Sapnap has it, we can go get it right now.” Tommy says beckoning Dream to follow him out the door. He sets a quick pace, antsy to get the negotiations over with and reclaim his discs. 

“Tommy!” Sapnap shouts, pounding down the path with something clutched in his hand. 

Dream and Tommy whip their heads around to look. 

Tommy sees it first. 

“My disc!” He cries, noticing the familiar round object. 

Dream swears, raising his crossbow at Sapnap and letting an arrow fly. Sapnap ducks and finally catches up to the two, pressing the disc into Tommy’s hand and drawing his sword. 

“Run Tommy.” Sapnap gasps and Tommy takes off without hesitation, the sounds of the battle between Sapnap and Dream echoing behind him. 

Legs burning and a thin trickle of blood still oozing from his forehead, Tommy races down the wooden path to the mines, stumbling over the uneven cobblestone. 

“Tommy!” Another voice calls, and Tommy turns his head slightly to see Tubbo racing into the mines behind him. 

“Tubbo.” Tommy sighs in relief. 

“I brought pickaxes, you can hide the disc down here.” Tubbo says, handing Tommy one of the pickaxes. Tommy smiles gratefully. 

Tubbo lights a torch and the two forge deeper into the cool darkness, keeping as quiet as possible. 

“What about there?” Tubbo whispers, pointing at small crevice in the rock. 

Tommy nods and begins opening the crack wider. When he’s satisfied with the nook he slices off a strip of cloth from his t-shirt to wrap the record in. 

The brothers reseal the hole with rocks and pebbles, then run from the scene. 

Dream enters the mine breathing hard. He’s sweating buckets and he thinks he’s sprained his wrist. He’d left Sapnap outside on the path, nursing a leg that's certainly broken. 

He runs smack into Tommy and Tubbo. Tubbo’s eyes widen with fear, Tommy glares. 

“You’re too late Dream, I’ve hidden the disc and you won’t find it. And I won’t stop until I find the other one too.” 

“Come on now Tommy, we had a deal. This could have been so much easier for you.”

Tommy juts his chin defiantly. 

“Well the way I see it, this way I get both of my discs and a shiny new set of armor.” 

Dream huffs and grabs Tubbo quickly, wrapping his good arm around Tubbo’s neck. Not tight enough to cause any serious damage, but tight enough to keep him from wiggling out. Tommy blinks, then reddens with rage. 

“Let him go.” Tommy grits. 

“Where’s the disc Tommy?” Dream taunts. Tubbo struggles in his grip, kicking desperately and scratching uselessly at Dream’s arms. 

“I’m. Not. Telling. You.” 

Dream let’s go of Tubbo, shoving him down. Tubbo gasps. Tommy rushes to his side and kneels down next to his brother worridly. 

Dream starts deeper into the mine. He’ll search the whole damn thing down to bedrock if he has to. 

“Tommy, I got it.” Tubbo whispers. 

Dream whirls, checking the pocket he had stashed the other disc in. His hand finds nothing but air. 

“Shit.” Dream kicks himself for not paying enough attention to Tubbo as he picked his pockets right in front of him. 

Tubbo reveals the second music disc clutched in his trembling hand just as Tommy springs up, stepping in front of Tubbo and raising his sword and pickaxe. 

“It’s over Dream. We have the discs.” 

Dream pauses. Calculates. He’s still armorless, and he’s almost out of arrows. Tubbo and Tommy are young, but someone had taught them to fight, and taught them well. 

“Fine.” Dream concedes, and stalks out of the mine, leaving the two teens open mouthed behind him. 

Tommy and Tubbo high five, relief breaking on Tommy’s face as he and Tubbo fetch the second music disc from its hiding spot. 

“Come on Tubbo, we need a better place to put these. Who knows what crazy shit Dream might do to get them back.” Tommy says, then winces. 

“Let’s get you fixed up first, yeah?” Tubbo says glancing worriedly at the blood matting Tommy’s blonde hair. 

“Okay big man, whatever you say.” Tommy agrees. 

When Dream get’s to Ranboo’s room, Ranboo is asleep. 

Dream sits in the creaky desk chair and waits for Ranboo to wake up. 

The half enderman doesn’t sleep much, but when he does he almost always awakens with memories; or at the very least, fragments of memories. 

Ranboo doesn’t talk in his sleep, which Dream is grateful for, but he does fidget, restlessly pushing away the thin cotton blankets with his long legs. The black and white strands of his hair are damp against his forehead. Dream watches silently until Ranboo finally jolts awake, ruby and sapphire eyes flaring instantly. 

“Dream.” Ranboo rasps, eyes focusing on Dream. 

“Ranboo. What do you remember?” 

Ranboo squeezes his eyes closed, trying desperately to pull back the mental images from his dreams. 

“Nothing.” He sighs, frustrated. 

“Maybe next time.” Dream offers sympathetically. Ranboo nods mutely. 

“I need you to update the book.” Dream says, handing a black leather bound book to Ranboo. 

“What happened?” Ranboo asks, flipping the pages to the list of names and the three inked hearts next to each name. 

“A bit of a… misunderstanding.” 

“Who-”

“Ponk and Alyssa lost one.” 

Dream hands Ranboo a quill and Ranboo scratches through a heart by their names. 

“And… I lost one too.” Dream says and Ranboo looks up sharply. 

“You?” 

“Yes. I was caught off guard.” Dream says, waving away Ranboo’s questioning eyes. Ranboo hesitantly scratches off a heart next to Dream’s name and hands the book back. 

“Thanks. I’ll be back to see you tomorrow.” Dream says and leaves without another word. When he gets back to the upper part of his base he begins filling a satchel full of TNT and stalks towards Tommy’s base by the mountain. 

Tubbo struggles with the bucket of fish he and Tommy caught at the river. Tommy is whistling a cheerful tune as he walks a few steps ahead with their fishing poles leaning on his shoulder. 

“We can get Wilbur to help us cook the fish and it’ll be just like old times!” Tommy says excitedly, looking back at his brother and wordlessly coming to help lift the load. 

“That sounds nice.” Tubbo agrees. 

An explosion sounds in the distance and the brothers exchange looks before picking up the pace, hurrying through the brush to the main village. 

Dream places sticks of TNT carelessly, lighting the fuses and barely leaving enough distance between him and the blasts. A good chunk of the base of the mountain is blown up and Tommy’s front lawn is desecrated. Each explosion feels gratifying, wiping away the stain of Tommy’s gloating face as he reclaimed his discs and crowed to everyone around him that he and Sapnap had killed Dream. Dream pulls another stick of TNT from the belt strapped around his chest, wedging it between two large stones. 

The explosion heats his face behind the mask, but finally finally reveals a wooden chest. Dream could pick the lock, but opts to smash the thing open with the hilt of his sword. 

The discs. 

Tommy’s discs, his prized possessions. 

Dream feels a grin spreading over his face. 

“What the fuck?” Tommy’s voice pierces through the air as he stares in disbelief at the smoking ruins of his yard. 

Dream emerges from the rubble with smudges on his white mask and discs raised in the air. 

“No!” Tommy shouts running towards Dream. Tubbo pulls him back by the hem of his shirt. 

“You can’t do this!” 

“But I can Tommy. I just did. Don’t you see, you can’t stop me. You thought you could hide them from me, you thought you were so smart. Betcha didn’t think I’d go and blow up part of a mountain huh? Your discs are safer with me Tommy. You can’t be trusted with them. But I can. Think of this as a contingency plan, if you will, to make sure you never cross me again. Because I will burn them Tommy.” Dream threatens, motioning with the matchbox in his other hand. Tommy chokes back a sob. 

“Please, I need those discs Dream.” 

Tubbo rubs Tommy’s back comfortingly. Dream shrugs. 

“You shouldn’t have killed me. I’m just teaching you a lesson Tommy, making sure you know your place. Didn’t your father ever teach you that children are better seen and not heard?” 

Tubbo yanks hard to keep Tommy from lunging at Dream. 

“Don’t say a single thing about my father. He’s a better man than you’ll ever be.” Tommy seethes. 

“Maybe.” Dream concedes and walks away confidently, smirking under his mask at the sight of Tommy’s blue-grey eyes welling with tears. 

“You need an ender chest.” Sapnap says, not looking up from the potatoes he’s peeling. 

“A what?” Tommy asks, reaching a hand for the loaf of bread and receiving a withering glare from George. 

“An ender chest. It’s made of obsidian and it’s got wardings on it so only the creator can open it.” George explains, then hands more carrots to Tubbo to chop. 

“Okay great, how do I make one?” 

“Obsidian and an ender eye.” Sapnap says, fetching the pork from his furnace. 

“And I get that… where?” 

“I have obsidian.” Tubbo mumbles. 

“When did you get obsidian?” Tommy asks. 

“I went mining with Punz a few weeks ago. You were with Sapnap I think.” Tubbo shrugs. 

“I have an ender eye.” Bad says, emerging from the shadows of George’s living room. Tommy jumps. 

“Well then we have everything we need Tommy! We just need to steal the discs back from Dream.” Tubbo tells Tommy encouragingly. 

“Stealing something from Dream? Good luck with that, he’ll shut you down in seconds,” George shakes his head. 

“We could steal them while he’s sleeping?” Tubbo suggests. 

“He doesn’t sleep.” Sapnap and George echo in unison. Tommy slams a fist against the kitchen table. 

“Don’t you still have his chestplate? You could propose a trade.” Bad offers. 

“Like he’ll be open to anything I say.” Tommy scoffs. 

Sapnap rakes a hand through his dark hair. 

“Bad might be onto something Tommy. Dream really likes his stuff, and that chestplate is super powerful.” 

“Worth a shot!” Tubbo raises an eyebrow at his brother and Tommy nods. 

“Worth a shot.” 

They meet at dawn. 

Tommy’s well aware of the newly built enderchest back in his bedroom right next to his music box. All he has to do is get the discs and run. 

The sun hasn’t hit full heat yet and the morning is chilly. Goosebumps raise on Tommy’s arms. He keeps a strong hold on Dream’s chestplate. 

Dream emerges from the trees, clearly having already been hunting. Tommy plants his feet firmly in the soft earth. 

“Do you have the discs?” He calls out to Dream. Dream nods silently, sunrise glinting off his mask. 

“I have them.” 

“And you’re willing to trade for the chestplate?” 

“I’m willing to trade… one.” 

Tommy shakes his head.

“It has to be both.” 

Dream doesn’t feel like giving up all of his leverage at once, but it’s highly unlikely that Tommy will be able to hide the discs anywhere Dream can’t find. Dream isn’t opposed to blowing up more of the mountain. 

“Fine. We’ll lay them in the middle and make the trade. No funny business.” Dream’s voice is hard and controlled, but his warning is clear. Tommy shivers. 

He tosses the chestplate in between him and Dream. Dream tosses the discs down next and Tommy winces. 

Tommy peeks up at Dream and Dream nods imperceptibly. 

Tommy lunges for the discs and sprints for his house, not sparing a glance back. 

“He’s got an enderchest.” George tells Dream that night as they sit at George’s table. Dream spoons soup underneath his mask. George thinks it’s unsettling. 

“Doesn’t matter. Let him think this is over. It’s better that way.”