Chapter Text
“Before you ask, you’re not here because you have powers.” Niki had been captured before. Not often, which was surely a good thing, but enough times that she understood when to speak and when to shut up. Talkers who started talking usually kept going, and her one disadvantage would then dwindle.
“Really?” Niki said dryly. The men who had brought her here hadn’t been violent, nor cruel, simply dragging her inside the room and locking the door behind them.
“Really,” the speaker confirmed. His face was shrouded in shadows, leaning back in a cushioned red chair. “I know who you are, Niki Nihachu.”
“And who am I?”
“Well, you’re someone who knows a lot of people, and someone who wants to kick the shit out of Dream.” Niki didn’t show her surprise, but the thoughts still ran a mile an hour in her head. “Which is cool, because I also want to kick the shit out of Dream. And his little-” The man waved his hand. “Sidekicks.”
“Good luck,” Niki scoffed. “He has luck powers, and if that wasn’t enough he’s got at least half a dozen others. You won’t even be able to find him, much less kill him.”
“Oh no, I don’t want to kill him,” the man clarified. “I want him to watch as I burn everyone he loves at the stake.”
“Oh.” That’s a totally normal thing to want.
“And I’m not worried about his powers. I’m worried about how I make him watch. Which is why I need you.”
“Me.”
“You know his inner circle, you can get inside it. You know half the people he’s ever tattooed. I just need you to find the rest.”
“And why on earth would I do that?” Niki asked. She knew. She knew long before this conversation even began.
“Because once it’s all over, you won’t have to worry about him having a meltdown ever again.”
“Right.” Niki nodded. “Well, it’s a nice offer, but I have better things to do.” She stood from the chair, pushing away from the grand oak desk and turning toward the door.
“If revenge isn’t enough for you, what about this?” Niki froze in her tracks. A shock went through her body. Her stomach settled into a deep fear, one she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Does that change your mind?”
“I- I see,” Niki inhaled sharply. She turned around, meeting the man’s eyes for the first time. “This… changes things.”
“I don’t want you to fight, I want you,” he explained. “All you have to do is find Dream’s experiments, and bring them to me.”
“I can do that.” Niki nodded. “So, since we’re going to be working together, can I ask for your name?”
“For now, you can call me the Morning Star.”
“Wow.” Tommy nodded to himself, staring very intently at the entirely red painting on the wall. “It’s red.” No one around him answered. Tommy tilted his head to the side. Hm. Still red. Definitely not worth getting smacked in the face for.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” Someone asked. Tommy frowned, turning to face the man. He was supposed to exposit alone. What the shit.
“Who the fuck is asking?” Tommy asked back.
“Hey, wait a second, I know you,” the man said. He wasn’t a particularly pleasant person to look at, with the unfortunate thickness of his sweater swallowing whatever could have been considered his neck.
“Everyone knows me-” Tommy stood on the bench opposite the painting. “I, am Tommyinnit! Man of the people, the kraken, untouchable, immune to cringe. Thomas Careful Danger Charisma-”
“Get down from there!” One of the security guards shouted. Tommy rolled his eyes. Museum bitches and their rules. Lame. He jumped down anyway.
“No, you’re on the news!” The man who deeply despised Tommy, fun, and joy said. “You’re that hero who can summon objects; the Avian!” Tommy gasped. A fan!
“It is indeed me, citizen man. And who might you be?”
“Oh, I’m Ryan Smith.” Tommy clicked his tongue.
“You wouldn’t happen to be the Ryan Smith, right?”
“Huh?”
“Ah shit.” Tommy sighed. He held out his hand, summoning a large piece of plywood. “Sorry about this.”
“Hey, what-” Tommy struck Ryan the Smith across the face with the wood, and the man fell over, immediately unconscious. All of the bystanders freaked, and by that, he meant two old ladies gave him vaguely confused looks, and the security guard charged.
“It’s nothing personal,” Tommy said, summoning a blow gun in exchange for the wood piece. He shot it at the guard, the man falling to the floor without complaining. Which was nice. Tommy sighed, grabbed Ryan whatever the fuck his name was by the leg, and began to drag him. God, he’s so fucking good at this. He pulled the man all the way to the front door without issue, only getting a few weird looks. Maybe a lot. Whatever. They didn’t understand his vibes. Astonishing vibes.
The Uber pulled right up to the door, the driver even opening the door for him as Tommy dragged the guy into the back seat. The things people do for five stars. Crazy shit.
“Wake up.” Tommy said once they were in the car and moving. There would be no escape now. He kicked the man, very gently, in the balls, and Ryan whatever the fuck jerked awake. Then started screaming.
“What the fuck man!” Tommy shouted, summoning a dish towel and shoving it between the man’s teeth. “Shut the fuck up.” Ryan whimpered. Tommy glared. “Are you going to behave now?” The thirty something year old man nodded. Tommy took out the gag.
“Please, I don’t have any money-”
“Fucking obviously, I would have robbed you already. Not that I would ever steal.” Tommy glanced down at the towel, then made it disappear. “My powers don’t count. I give it back.”
“I don’t-”
“Good idea. Don’t.” Tommy nodded to himself. God, he’s so talented. “This is an interrogation.”
“It is?”
“Indeed! I will play both good cop and bad cop. At the same time.” Tommy leaned forward and slapped him across the face. “You have a very nice head!”
“Please don’t hurt me!” Ryan half sobbed.
“I’m not gonna hurt you. Die!” Tommy shouted. The man began to cry. “Okay. Not working. Hm.” He thought to himself for a moment. What could be more intimidating and comforting than kidnapping, violence, and compliments?
“Who are you, who is he?” Ryan shouted, pointing at the driver.
“I’m Mohammed!” The driver said. Tommy could see his friendly smile in the driver’s mirror. Wow. Such a nice guy. More people should be okay with kidnapping.
“He’s my Uber driver,” Tommy explained, even though it was obvious. “He is very good at his job.”
“Thank you, sir!” Oh my god. He called me sir. Is this what adulthood feels like?
“I have a family, can you please let me go?” Ryan begged.
“Oh my fucking god. Fine.”
“Thank you-”
“I’m not letting you go, I’m explaining, not don’t interrupt me or I’ll get offended.” Tommy cleared his throat. “Okay, so my buddy Karl Jacobs, he’s about a seven on the hotness scale-”
“I don’t understand-”
“Do not interrupt me!” Tommy shouted. “This is very important information. There is nothing wrong with hot men. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes… sir?”
“Wow. That’s so cool.” Tommy grinned. “Anyway. Karl Jacobs. He can see the future and shit. Weird, right? But my buddy Dream, who is around an eight on the hotness scale, but if he asks he’s a ten, accidentally fucked up his brain a while back and now all of his future telling shit is fucked up. It’s metaphors and illusions and shit.”
“I believe you mean allusions, sir.” Mohammed said. Tommy nodded.
“You’re so right. Thank you, Mohammed. The world needs more people like you.”
“What does any of this have to do with me?” Ryan asked.
“I’m getting there, god you’re so impatient.” Tommy shook his head. “Karl got the dream, right, that you, in a couple of days, will rob the museum, but we could stop it if we got to you first. So I saved the day. Again. You’re welcome.” Tommy beamed, hearing the future applause of thousands of adoring fans. Oh, his subs will be so proud when he brings this up in his next story time stream.
“Wait, so you’re kidnapping me for a crime I haven’t committed?” Ryan asked.
“Yep! Cause I’m fucking awesome,” Tommy said, summoning a folding fan and waving it near his face. “It’s fucking hot in here.”
“Sorry sir,” Mohammed said, turning up the AC.
“Don’t worry about it, man. We put in the work, put in the hours, and take what’s ours.”
“I’m sorry, but can you let me go?” Ryan asked again, like the little bitch man he was. Tommy groaned.
“No. Stop asking. You’re going to jail.”
“Jail!”
“Yes. For being a dick.”
“I didn’t even do anything!”
“Take it to the judge,” Tommy said. “Mohammed, M-ster, big M, are we almost there?”
“Just about, sir!”
“You don’t need to park, you can just drop us off.” With just a little protest from Ryan, Tommy and Mohammed dragged the evil little shit out of the car, Tommy slapping a pair of summoned handcuffs on his wrists. “Thank you, Mohammed,” Tommy said earnestly, once Ryan had been bound and gagged. “You’re a real one.”
“Five stars?” He asked.
“My beautiful friend, I would give you six if I could.” Tommy gave the man a parting handshake, a twenty dollar tip, and a smile, watching him drive off into the distance to, hopefully, go assist in another poor man’s kidnapping.
“It’s enough to make a grown man cry,” Tommy lamented. He sniffed.
“Please let me go!” Ryan begged, the gag having fallen loose.
“Shut the fuck up.” Tommy licked his finger, holding it really close to his kidnappee’s face. “If you scream again, I’ll touch your face, with my spit. That would be gross. So stop.”
“Please-”
“Oh my fucking god.” Tommy sighed, grabbing Ryan by the weirdly large neck of his sweater. In June. What the fuck. “Now try to cooperate, or-” Tommy paused, feeling a very sudden rush of wind behind him. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“Tommy!” Tommy groaned, turning around, and dragging Ryan with him. Dream stood there, arms crossed, mask on, shoulders out. He wore a tank top, who the fuck still wears tank tops? At least it was better than the fiftieth cat beanie.
“Dream. My esteemed rival.”
“Who the fuck is this?” Dream asked, pointing at Ryan.
“My kidnap victim!” He felt Dream’s glare even if he couldn’t see it.
“Your kidnap victim.”
“Yes! He was going to rob a museum. In like a week. Karl said so.” Dream just stared blankly. Or, just regularly, the mask wasn’t very expressive. Or at all.
“You kidnapped someone.”
“I kidnapped a future criminal!” Tommy corrected, still grinning. “You’re always talking about ‘crime prevention’, so I did it. I prevented a crime.”
“I- this isn’t what I-” Dream groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. He did that when he was stressed. Which was a lot. “Tommy, let him go.”
“I won’t tell anyone!” Ryan promised. “I’ll keep my mouth shut, I swear.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Tommy said.
“Tommy!” Dream scolded. “What did we say about kindness?”
“Sorry.” Tommy turned to face his kidnappee. “You don’t need to shut up. Your head has a very nice shape, and your sweater isn’t as ugly as it looks.”
“That's… better.”
“Please let me go,” The man begged. Tommy sighed.
“Fucking fine.” The handcuffs disappeared off the man’s wrists. “Just… you know how to get home, right?”
“Uh,” Ryan looked at Tommy, then at Dream, then back at Tommy. “I’ll find my way back.” He took a few steps backward, not taking his eyes off either of them, then broke into a sprint, running down the sidewalk.
“What a dick,” Tommy said, shaking his head and watching his former kidnappee disappear. “How the fuck did you find me, aren’t you supposed to be at that pride parade?”
“Keeping watch at the pride parade.” Dream corrected.
“Right.”
“Because queer people have been getting targeted a lot recently.
“Mhm.”
“No other reason.”
“What’s that sticker for then?” Tommy asked, pointing at the rainbow heart sticker on Dream’s tank top. Dream’s hand slapped over it.
“I- it was free-”
“Mhm.” Tommy squinted. He, Tubbo, and about six other people had a betting pool going to see how long it would take Dream to either come out, or kiss George, and so far he’d made 70 dollars. Badboyhalo made 300.
“Just- look, let’s get you home. Do you wanna try flying again or…” Dream trailed off as Tommy remembered the last time Dream tried to use the wind to make Tommy fly. He’d nearly killed 700 people and a giraffe.
“Let’s take an Uber.”
“Alright.” Dream pulled out his phone from his pants pocket.
“No!” Tommy shouted. Dream looked up. “Don’t worry, I can do it. I know a guy.”
“Dream!” George pressed his face against the glass door, making a weird expression. Dream rolled his eyes and pushed down a grin.
“You’re so stupid.”
“Let me in!”
“I just cleaned that glass-”
“Let me innnnnnn-”
“Oh my god,” Dream sighed, walking around the desk and unlocking the shop door. “We’re closed.”
“I’m not here to get a tattoo, I just want to hang out,” George said, vaulting himself on top of the desk that was definitely not built to hold an entire human being. “Whatcha doing?”
“Well, I should be sweeping,” Dream said, sitting back down in his desk chair. He handed George the notebook he’d been using. “Instead, I’ve been doing this.”
“Doodling,” George observed, flipping through the pages.
“I- okay it sounds dumb when you say it like that.” Dream said, watching George for any sort of displeasure or exhaustion. He showed neither. “Well, my therapist said I should try drawing for me again since I’ve been doing all of that work for… well work.”
“Mhm,” George hummed, carefully looking over each page before moving on to the next.
“So I’ve been doing that when I’m stressed.”
“What’re you stressed about?”
“I- Tommy kidnapped a guy today-” George looked up. “And I kinda went to a pride parade- to supervise.”
“Obviously.”
“And I… I don’t know. Everything should be just fine but… you know how sometimes because of my luck powers, I can tell when things are gonna happen?”
“Yeah.”
“Well. I dunno. I have a bad feeling.” Dream shook his head. “It’s stupid- It’s not stupid. Well, it is-” Dream frowned. “But not in the way you think it is.”
“What?” George handed Dream back the notebook. “Look, none of this power stuff makes sense. Sometimes it doesn’t work, sometimes it does too much. Sometimes it works for people who don’t even have tattoos. It makes zero sense. Ever.”
“Well, it has some logic.” Dream mumbled. “It’s just… very dependent on people.”
“Whatever. They’re all over the place and crazy. How do you know it’s not just- like- lying?”
“It doesn’t do that.” Dream said with a sigh.
“Look, even if something does happen, we’ll take care of it, okay?” George smiled. “We’re here for you, Dream. A lot of us really care about you.”
“A lot of you huh?” Dream grinned. “You can say you love me, it’s okay.”
“I don’t, though. That would be lying.”
“I think you do.”
“Nope.”
“It’s okay George, I love you too.” George scoffed.
“I’m not gonna say it.”
“Say it.”
“No.” Dream didn’t realize how close they were, George’s face just a few inches away from his. All he had to do was tilt his head up, and-
“Dream!” The shout shot at him as the bell above the door slammed against its clapper, the usual ding being raised and then smothered. Tommy’s hands gripped the door and the frame with white knuckles, his eyes wide and hair somehow more chaotic than usual.
“What the hell!” Dream exclaimed, he and George falling apart and away in an instant. Tommy hesitated, looking between them.
“Are you two-”
“Just- what’s going on?” Dream demanded. His face flushed red. Tommy blinked.
“Oh, right. Dream, there’s someone at Big City fountain asking for you.”
“Okay?” Dream felt half ready to ignore Tommy and pick up where he’d left off.
“Like, some ice guy.”
“Some ice guy.”
“Yeah! With ice powers-” Tommy shot out his hands. “They wanna talk to you. As Exdee.” Dream’s stomach fell. “There’s a TV camera crew there and everything-”
“Why the fuck didn’t you start with that!” Dream shouted. He ducked under the desk, entering the code into the padlock he kept secure around the bottom drawer, and pulled out the mask he’d kept hidden for months. “I gotta go.”
“I’m coming with,” George said as Dream walked past him, already halfway to the door.
“Absolutely not-”
“Me too,” Tommy said. “You need me.”
“We can help,” George promised, jumping to the ground. “You need backup.”
“Yeah but I’m more backup.” Tommy decided. “What? If anything I’m more backup-”
“Guys!” Dream shouted. “George, you’re still recovering, you can’t just run out there and start… I don’t know, fighting Elsa. Besides, I don’t even know if this will turn into a conflict. I’m trying to avoid that.”
“Well, I have to come. And guess what dickshit,” Tommy got right up to Dream’s mask, his eyes just barely shorter than Dream’s gaze. “You can’t stop me. So cope. Copium.”
“If I lose either of you, I’ll probably lose my shit,” Dream warned, slowly, giving them time to remember what happened last time he ‘lost his shit’.
“We’re not gonna die,” George said.
“Exactly. Because you’re staying here.” Dream reached into his jean pocket and tossed a pinch of seeds onto the ground.
The plants roared as they were forged, born to grab Tommy and George by their hands and drag them against the reception desk as they both shouted and flailed.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!” Tommy shouted, vines wrapping around his feet, binding them together.
“You said you got rid of your seeds,” George said. His voice was more betrayed than upset. Dream took in a sharp breath.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but I can’t risk losing you guys.” He opened the door with his shoulder, taking off the mask and hiding it under his shirt. “I’ll be back.” He could vaguely hear Tommy shouting profanities at him through the closed door as he melted into the crowd outside. Just another guy, with a mask under his shirt, and about to meet Jack Frost in the middle of the city.
Frozone sat at the very top of the fountain, legs dangling in the water streams that lingered entirely stagnant as unfolding ice. The fountain was gigantic, with half a hundred frozen streams coming in and out of the center, and stretching so high most could hardly see the figure atop it. The messenger wore a shitty hero outfit made mostly of white and light blue cloth, with their face entirely concealed by a masquerade mask. Their gender was unseen, but with what little height he could discern, Ice Ice Baby was either a tall woman or a short man, with pale skin, and blue eyes that held a vendetta.
Dream, on the other hand, hid just behind the line of people surrounding the fountain. The place was half a crime scene. Barricades circled the winter messenger, with police and law enforcement keeping crowds of bystanders from rushing in and… doing whatever a confused mob might do.
What are they waiting for? Did they know he was coming? It was definitely a trap, and the person behind it likely hated him for… any of a dozen reasons. Which called for a more important question, who the fuck had he tattooed to give them ice powers?
He needed a plan. A good one. All he had were some seeds, luck that couldn’t even affect living beings, limited weather control, and zero backup. He had every disadvantage in knowledge and a debatable gap in ability. Which left him with little. All he knew was this person could freeze water in the summer heat and had a flair for the dramatics.
Dream could beat that, at least.
He ducked back into the alley as the sky began to darken, and slipped the mask over his face. Rain began to fall, slowly at first, then with heavier drops. Wind raised him into the air. The sky, now dark, roared to life with thunder, and a crack of lightning.
“Don’t worry,” Dream said, approaching the fountain. He flew right past the crowd beneath him, only having eyes for one. “I’m here.”
“Exdee,” the figure said, a small grin crossing what little of their face Dream could see. There wasn’t nearly enough room at the top of the fountain for them both, so Dream drifted alone in the air. He doubted the people below could hear them, so far up and away they were from the ground. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course.” The silence stood for a few moments.
“Oh, where are my manners?” The figure asked absentmindedly. “You can call me Khione.” Cringe. “I would give you my real name, but I don’t believe you’d give me yours.”
“You’d be right.” Dream hesitated. “I’m guessing you didn’t want me here just to chat, did you?”
“No, not this time. I came to offer you a deal.”
“A deal?” Dream raised an eyebrow.
“Yes. On behalf of myself and my associates, we would like you to simply do what you do best-”
“If you came here to persuade me to tattoo you or anyone else-”
“Oh, definitely not. That would be disastrous.” She spoke as if it was a radical, insane idea, something tried and tested. “We want you to rid the world of all of your tattoos, then disappear. We want you gone, Exdee.”
“I see.” Dream brushed a strand of rain soaked hair out of his vision. “And I would do this because…”
“Because otherwise me and mine are going to make your life hell.”
“Well, that doesn't sound fun,” Dream mused.
“I don’t think you understand.” Khione’s blue eyed gaze felt almost predatory. “We know who you are, Dream.” His breath froze. “We know what you are, what you hail from, what you do to people. We have Eret on our side, I’m sure you remember her. She can make you forget your own name.”
“I fought them once before.” Dream raised his chin slightly, floating just a little higher so he might look down on this woman. “I’ll do it again.”
“Do you really want to take that risk?” She asked. “Do you want to risk George and Tommy? Interesting how they aren’t here-”
“Keep them out of this,” Dream warned. “Or what?” She asked, almost genuinely. “You’ve been reckless, Dream. Tattooing anyone who walks into your shop. You probably don’t even know who I am.” She paused, waiting for him to answer. “You really don’t, do you?”
“I can’t just- just leave, just track everyone down, take their tattoos and leave. That’s cruel.”
“Sure you can. We’ll help.”
“I don’t want your help.” Dream straightened himself as best he could. “I just have to wonder why you tried this at all. If you know all of this about me, why did you even bother trying to talk me down?”
“Well, now you can’t say we didn’t try for peace.”
“People have already tried this. What on earth makes you think you’re so different?” Dream asked.
“That would reveal the surprise, wouldn’t it?” They stared at one another, waiting. Dream glared. Khione grinned.
“Get out of my city.”
“Your city?”
“Yeah.” Dream nodded, building confidence. “Mine, and Sapnap’s, and George’s, and Karl’s, and Tommy’s, and Phil’s, and Ranboo’s, and everyone else you think you’re going to come for. You wanna fuck around and find out? See what happens when you attack this city’s heroes in a world built on Marvel and DC.”
“We’re not here for them-”
“But they’ll be here for you,” Dream promised. “Heroes and villains don’t exist in bubbles anymore, Khione, not after this shit you’ve just pulled.” He gestured vaguely to the frozen fountain.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” She suddenly snapped, leaning forward. “You think you can just use an entire city as your meat shield?”
“You think I can’t? Go on Khione.” Dream smiled. “Fuck around. I dare you.”
“You don’t know what you’re starting… just so you can keep tattooing people.”
“I guess I’ll know soon enough.” Lightning fractured the sky, illuminating their masks for just an instant.
“I suppose you will.” Eye to eye, they waited for the other. Go on. You’re the one left wanting.
Thunder broke, and Khione gave in. Dream fell back as a spear of ice came rushing up from the ground, tracked its movements as it fell back to the earth, then thrust out a hand. Vines surged forth from his pockets, reaching out with snapping jaws. Khione jumped from her place at the top, sliding down a sheet of ice that formed as she moved. Faintly, Dream heard the shouting of bystanders. Another icicle came rushing toward him, this time caught by one of Dream’s vines. The ice almost struggled, fighting against the grip of the plant before dissolving into water, falling uselessly, before becoming ice once again.
She can only turn water into ice, she can’t just make it, Dream realized, ducking as frozen shards hurled toward his face. Khione moved around the fountain like a skater, deftly weaving herself around the base to avoid the blackberry vines as they lunged for purchase. The rain stopped all at once, the summer sun returning. He had to remove her ammunition.
“Stop!” A sudden voice shouted. Both he and Khione turned to face whichever asshole just interrupted. Half a dozen cops in what looked like body armor carrying riot shields crouched by the barricades, guns drawn and pointed right at Dream and Khione.
“What the fuck?” Dream managed.
“Do not resist, you are under arrest for-” A long spear of ice erupted from the ground, piercing the center of the speaker’s shield, stopping mere inches away from his eyes.
“Stay out of this,” Khione warned. A wall of ice surged in front of her as gunshots, louder than Dream was expecting, rang out, aiming squarely at her. All around them, more than double the number of cops that had been attacking them tried to corral the bystanders who still refused to disperse. Everyone wanted to watch a supercharged fight. One of the cops pushed back with his shield a little too hard, sending a civilian crashing toward the ground, and dragging another person down with him. Khione shot more ice at a cop, only half of the flurry actually hitting its mark, the rest landing somewhere in the crowd with a series of shouts.
This will turn into a riot. Dream looked around, seeing the faint blue and red lights of police cars getting closer from the distance. The shouts of the crowd got louder. He glanced at Khione, then to where he’d seen a man get pushed, at the crowd beginning to push back for no other reason than revenge.
Fuck it. A column of wind pushed the cops down and inward toward their own barriers, several pushing the barricades down or away entirely. The ones fighting Khione were left alone. Dream flew down to everyone else’s level, feeling the ground touch the soles of his shoes once again. The officers were back on their feet soon enough, but this time, their ire turned towards Dream.
“Can’t you just get everyone out of here?” He half heartedly begged. He knew who couldn’t be reasoned with. Their guns were out in a flash, yet when everyone else expected them to fire, there was nothing. Just the useless clicking of men pulling a trigger. God, I’m cool.
“I’ll take those,” Dream said, stretching out a hand and yanking the devices out of their grasp with an invisible force. He grabbed more seeds from his pockets, letting the wind carry them to the edges of the civilian circle. Several of the cops pulled out tasers or batons. The seeds sprouted into vines, braiding together and making a far better wall than any normal man could have. Dream leaned back as the end of a baton pierced the air where his head had just been. He grabbed a hand that reached to tase him. He redirected the jab toward the man who’d tried to hit him, falling back just before a third assailant could tase his face from across his colleagues.
This is stupid, he decided as another baton came rushing toward his side, grabbing it by the end and making it dissolve into melted sludge. Dream called on the wind, floating up just out of reach. The force of it caused his assailants to be pushed back, and even a few down to the ground. Dream ignored them, flying just over the edge of his vine wall.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Dream shouted at the bystanders. Almost all of them had their phones out, filming Dream’s words as though they couldn’t even hear them. He rolled his eyes, flying to the opposite side and seeing a gaping hole where Khione was fighting. There was more than a little blood on the ground. Khione must have noticed Dream’s presence, even as she fought off her last two attackers. In an instant, one was pinned to the ground by ice, and the other she choked with her arm, a pointed icicle in her free hand.
“You think I won’t kill him?” Khione shouted, glaring up at Dream. Half of her right leg was soaked in red, but whose blood it was he had no idea.
“You’ll get people killed!” Dream shouted down, flying just close enough to meet her eyes. “It’s crazies like you that people need protecting from.”
“Like me? What the fuck have I done?” Khione asked, affronted. The man in her arms kicked his legs back, trying to pull her arm away from his neck. None of her budged.
“You’re holding a man hostage!” Dream shouted. He was acutely aware of the various cops he’d knocked down standing behind him, guns raised, weapons ready. “You can’t win this one, you’re surrounded.” He floated down even closer, only a few inches from the ground, the wind pushing any broken shards of ice away from his feet. “Whatever you’re trying to start with me, I promise this isn’t something you want to start with everyone else.”
“Do you want me to kill him?” Khione asked, the icicle inching ever closer.
“Not particularly.”
“So that’s it, huh? I thought you’d be better, you’d know better.”
“Than what?”
“To risk all of this for a cop.”
“I don’t care that you have a cop hostage, I care that you have a person hostage.” Dream glared through the black eyes of the mask, and felt blue ones pierce it right back. It didn’t matter who Khione held hostage, it didn’t matter if Dream couldn’t care less if Khione killed him, it didn’t matter who lost the battle here because they were fighting for control of something far larger than the life of one cop. And they both knew it. Dream felt the presence of a thousand cameras staring at the back of his head, at the front of his mask, at his shoes, and at his hands.
And then, the hum was silenced.
Dream fell down the few inches he was hovering over, staggering just a little as he regained balance. The icicle melted, turning into water in Khione’s hand. The fountain fell out of its frozen state, water rushing down and out like it would on any other summer day. The hedge walls Dream had built crumpled in an instant. And the hum was silenced. That perfect awareness, that unshakable confidence in the order of the world, was shattered. Gone like it had never been there.
I can’t see, I can’t feel- Dream couldn’t breathe, whirling his head around to see where anything was. He forgot what it was like to think about the world rather than know its place.
“He’s here,” Khione said, releasing the cop, a forgotten bargaining chip. Her eyes widened, dizzyingly wide. “He’s here.”
“Who’s here?” Dream asked. “Khione, who’s here?”
“The Morning Star.”
“Who the fuck-” Dream’s words failed him. He blinked, feeling as though he should stutter, but not knowing if he was speaking in the first place. “What did I…?” Dream glanced around him. Everyone around him was equally confused, with glazed over looks in their eyes. Dream knew that look. He knew it well.
“Shit.”
“D- er- Exdee!” Someone shouted from the crowd. Dream whipped his head around to face the voice, his eyes meeting the gaze of the one and only Tommyinnit. “Let’s get the fuck-” The puddles of water from Khione’s melted ice reformed into walls and spears, separating Dream and the rest of the world from only two people, her, and Tommy.
“Perfect timing,” She remarked, rushing to his side in an instant and grabbing his shoulder.
“Don’t you touch-” Tommy cried out in pain as Khione’s knee met his groin, the boy half screaming in agony. Most of the crowd and cops seemed to have gotten their heads back together, watching in horror as Khione dragged Tommy to his knees right next to the statue. Dream wasn’t sure whether to scream or vomit.
“Let him go,” Dream demanded, still half dazed. The words felt weak to him, summoned without any of the firepower to back it up.
“Or what?” Khione asked. “Hm?” She tilted her head to the side. “Do you understand what you’re up against now? We’ll burn this whole city to the ground if we have to.”
“For what?” Dream cried.
“The greater good.”
“You’re a bitch.” Tommy decided, glaring up at the woman above him. “You’re a dumbass and your parents are disappointed in you.”
“My parents are very proud of me-” Dream took quick steps toward her, some broken anger in him bubbling to the surface and demanding retribution. “What now? Are you gonna give up, or-”
Dream’s fist struck across her exposed cheek with no hesitation, without pulling back. The crowd gasped and winced. Tommy pulled away from her weakened grasp. Dream’s fist already began to ache, surprised at his own strength. Khione looked back up, her head snapping back into place. Dream held his chin up high, grabbing Tommy’s arm and pulling the boy behind him.
“You-”
“Me,” Dream agreed. He pushed Tommy back toward the crowd, one of the cops avoiding the ice to grab Tommy.
The two were only a few steps away from one another. Dream still couldn’t feel the world around him, half deaf, powerless. Khione glared at Dream, turned her head, and spit blood at the ground. She straightened her posture. Dream crouched, pulling up two clenched fists.
“Come on then,” Khione goaded, water from the fountain freezing over once again and sharpening into spears. “See how that goes.” Dream took a deep breath.
The tension broke, sudden and swift, as a ball of fire came careening down from the heavens.
“Knock knock!” Sapnap shouted, tossing another fireball directly at Khione’s chest, knocking her to the ground. Phil carried Sapnap, or Fireborn, in his arms like an unruly toddler, flapping his massive wings at a much faster pace than usual. He looked half ready to pass out. Sapnap, on the other hand, looked like he probably could kill someone.
“Go,” Dream said, turning to Tommy. Neither of them had much a choice anyway, with the cops all fading back into the crowd, trying to maintain any sort of control. More fireballs rained down from above.
Phil flew close to the ground, dropping Sapnap close enough that he could’ve just landed on his feet, yet the hero decided to roll like he was on a goddamn parkour show. Sapnap sprung to his feet, both hands alight.
“Your power kinda sucks balls, dude.” He said, tossing a fireball at Khione, an ice wall erupting in front of them. Half of it shattered with the sheer force of it, the rest quickly melting away.
“This isn’t your fight, Sapnap.” Sapnap hesitated a moment to stare at Dream, a face of what the fuck is she talking about? Dream shrugged.
“You gonna help me out here?” Sapnap asked, melting an icicle into water vapor as it shot out toward him.
“I can’t,” Dream said. “I- just focus on you, I’m gonna try and get people out of here.”
“Good luck- shit!” Sapnap shouted, an icicle flying past his face. Dream turned from them, heading to the edge of the circle and grabbing the first cop he saw. Literally.
“Hey-”
“Shut up.” Dream said, pulling him away by the back of his body armor shit. “You see that guy? Fireborn? He’s gonna light everything on fucking fire. Get people out of here or I swear to god I’ll make every seed you’ve ever swallowed grow out of your stomach and burst from your chest like the creature from Alien. Are we clear?”
“Who are you to-” Dream stopped listening, a hum building in the back of his head. The beating of hearts, the slam of fireballs and broken ice, every step everyone took, every sound and view rushing back to him all at once. The knowledge of every placement of every object and person, there once again. It’s back. He’s real again.
“Actually, I don’t need your help. Fuck you.” Dream reached for the fallen over hedge walls, building them back up to what they were. One vine reached out from the masses, grabbing the cop Dream had just spoken to and dragging him screaming back over to the other side. The mass amounts of fire and ice caused smoke and mist to clash in the air, slowly making it harder to breathe. And to see.
Khione’s movements became more frantic, using up more ice than she needed to. Panicking. Dream watched, waiting from the sidelines, waiting for his moment. She turned from the wall, thrusting out her hand to shoot at Sapnap. Just a bit too much, a bit too far. A vine shot out from Dream’s wall, wrapping around her ankle, and sweeping her off her feet. She didn’t quite scream, but she did gasp, a hand immediately reaching to hold her mask in place.
“Well that was stupid.” Dream said, gently brushing small shards of ice and frozen pieces off his tank top.
“Okay fine!” Khione shouted. “You win! I give up! You were right!” Dream blinked.
“Sweet,” Sapnap said. “I thought she’d put up more of a fight.”
“Honestly, me too-” Khione dropped, the vine holding her shriveling up and dying, with the rest of the Dream’s plants. The hum disappeared, the fire faded, and all of a sudden they were back at square one. Dread rose up in Dream’s stomach. Khione got to her feet and ran, breaking into a sprint down the street. A pair of cops chased her, only to slip on ice. She turned a corner, and was gone.
“Phil will get her, right?” Dream asked.
“What the fuck just happened?” Sapnap demanded, pulling out his lighter and clicking it on. Fire came out, yet refused to grow. “What the fuck?”
“We have a lot to talk about,” Dream said. And again, as though some god turned back on a switch, the plants around them grew, and the singed embers roared back to life. The world, once again back at their fingertips.
“Did- did that just-”
“Yep.” Dream nodded slowly. “We can worry about that in a second, but right now-” The plants, this time at Dream’s command, grew smaller, shrinking in on themselves, their mutation no longer needed. After only a few seconds, they were left with normal, blackberry bushes. They would probably bear fruit if given enough time.
And then, something wholly unexpected happened.
Someone in the crowd began to clap, then a few people, and then there was a roaring applause. Bystanders began to tuck away their phones, opting to clap. And clap, and clap. Until Dream thought it would never end.
He wanted to hate it. God he wanted to hate it. To shout at them all that they almost died because they refused to move, that Dream’s life being on the line was just a spectacle to them. That they didn’t care about who got hurt, who did get hurt. What they started. And yet, something in Dream swelled with pride. Not quite pride, something else, something closer to his heart. Dream glanced at Sapnap. Is this it? Is this what you almost let me die for all those months ago?
It got stupider the longer it went on. For every picture taken and video recorded, it got stupider. Nonsensical. It made him want to retch, to discard the mask all together. To vomit. To show everyone who he was.
“We should go,” Dream mumbled to Sapnap, the crowd still fucking clapping. Sapnap nodded just enough for Dream to see. He summoned the wind, flying over the crowds and trying his best to ignore every flash of a phone camera. And he left, left all the way back to where he started. Back home.