Chapter Text
Techno knew a trap when he saw one.
Or was interrupted by one during his birthday party.
Quackity might as well have been waving around a neon sign that said it was a trap. Not that it would’ve stopped Techno. He would’ve gone regardless; every word out Quackity’s mouth raised a dozen red flags and that would’ve prompted his desire to check things out even if he didn’t owe Dream. Even if he really didn’t like the thought of anyone locked up in that prison.
So when Sam locked him in the cell with Dream, he wasn’t surprised, not even a little.
He wasn’t even surprised by Dream yelling at him, screaming it was a trap, the broken way he said this was it, there was no way for them to get out. Techno was the plan.
What he was surprised by was the way the orange jumpsuit hung on Dream’s frame, falling off his shoulder, the bruising that was on his neck and arms, and how stained the too-big jumpsuit was, reddish brown stains that Techno knew the source of even if the smell of both old and fresh blood hadn’t given it away. The white mask still covered his face but it was cracked and dirty and Dream’s hair was long and matted behind it.
He smelled awful, of filth and blood and fear.
Techno tried to ignore it at first. If something was wrong, him freaking out would be the last thing that Dream needed. No, he had to act like everything was normal, like it was a joke to him, even though his chest hurt the moment Dream said the word ‘torture’. The teasing felt like ash in Techno’s mouth but Dream seemed to relax and that’s all he wanted.
He thought that’s what he wanted until Dream was sitting against the wall, staring off into the distance, silent. In his lap, his hands were trembling. It wasn’t like him.
Groaning, Techno slid down the wall next to Dream. The other man didn’t move. He hadn’t moved in hours, had barely moved in the past day or so, since that rush of adrenaline had worn off, refusing food or water. Not that Techno really blamed him. The potatoes were raw and mealy and the water was warm and stale.
“How are y’doin’ there, Dream?” he asked.
There was no answer.
Techno leaned into Dream, nudging his shoulder.
“C’mon, man, are you really gonna give your roommate the silent treatment?”
“What—No.” Dream cleared his throat. His voice was low and scratchy. “I don’t know, what—what do you want me to say?”
“I asked you how you are, Dream.”
Dream shifted where he sat, scratching the side of his face, only his jawline visible beneath the mask. He was missing the ring finger on his left hand.
“Well, they haven’t been in to torture me,” he said.
He sounded unsure and tired, hesitant, and so very unlike the Dream that Techno had known.
“See? Positive thinkin’, Dream.”
“Yeah.”
“You should try to get some sleep,” said Techno. He wanted to do something, anything, to help Dream because this shell of a man was not the person he used to tease until he would wheeze with laughter. “You haven’t slept since I got here.”
“It’s—I’m fine.”
He wasn’t.
Techno saw the way Dream flinched if he moved too quickly, how he swayed on his feet when he stood. He was shivering despite the wall of lava, thin arms wrapped around his thin chest. When he leaned forward, Techno could see his spine and the scars that covered his back. Sighing, Techno shrugged off his cloak.
“Here,” he said, wrapping the cloak around Dream’s shoulders. “You’re shiverin’.”
“It’s cold.”
It wasn’t.
It was the opposite of cold. Techno had been sweating since he had been thrown into the cell. Carefully, Techno reached out and put his hand on the back of Dream’s neck. His skin was cold and clammy and he tensed under Techno’s touch.
“Easy, Dream,” he murmured, stroking Dream’s hair. It was a mess, a veritable rat’s nets. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
He was still tense but he let Techno practically drag him into his lap, laying him down on something that wasn’t the hard obsidian for once. Techno wrapped his arms around Dream and leaned back against the wall. It took awhile, but eventually Dream relaxed, fingers curled into the fabric of Techno’s cloak, and he slept.
The nightmare pulled Dream from the uneasy sleep he had fallen into. It was almost routine, at this point, whenever he managed to sleep. Routine in the same awful, uncounted days way that raw potatoes were dumped into cell, the way Quackity came and brought the chair and shears. He jerked up, feeling hands on him, the panic even thicker, and his head collided with the wall. Blood filled his mouth and he felt himself choking on it.
“Heh?”
Techno blinked; he hadn’t meant to fall asleep and it took him a moment to fully wake up, fully grasp what was happening. He put his hand on Dream’s arm.
“Whoa, Dream, it’s alright,” he said. “It’s just me, you’re fine.”
In the silence of the cell, he could hear Dream’s ragged breathing and in the light of the lava, he could see blood and spit dripping from under his mask, off his chin. He was trembling worse than before.
“C’mon, talk to me, man.”
“No,” said Dream, his voice slurred but the word very deliberate.
Despite the situation, Techno chuckled. It was funny. Here in this cell where he had been for the past seven months or so, where he had been starved and tortured, Dream was still funny. Warmth spread in Techno’s chest and he put his hands on Dream’s shoulders, rubbing them.
“Thanks, Dream.” Taking the sleeve of his shirt, Techno wiped the blood that had dripped onto his neck. “Look at you, you’re a mess.”
“F-fuck you,” he said, mouth still full of blood, making the inside of his mask wet.
“Alright, that’s it. We’re getting you cleaned up, as best we can,” Techno said.
The sleeve of his shirt was already ruined and so he ripped it off, before tearing it into strips. He could feel Dream watching him from behind the mask as he stood up and wet a couple of the fabric strips. Returning, he sat down in front of Dream.
“Uh, the only problem is the mask, man. I can’t really clean you up with that on your face.”
Dream turned his head, swallowing, hands twisting together in his lap.
“C’mon.”
Dream didn’t move. He was still shaking.
“Can I do it?” Techno asked.
The nod was barely perceptible.
Scooting closer, Techno carefully felt behind Dreams head, feeling for the leather straps that held the mask onto his head. It took him a few tries – his fingers were large and the buckles were small and Techno winced when he thought he had pulled Dream’s hair on accident – but he was able to undo it, placing the mask to the side.
He didn’t know what he had been expecting to lie under the mask but it wasn’t this. That warmth from earlier came back, hotter than ever. There was blood on Dream’s lips and chin and his face was scarred, fading bruises here and there but that didn’t detract from his looks in the slightest. His eyes were distant but a bright, deep green and his nose had been broken but somehow still suited him.
Techno was staring and Dream noticed.
“What,” he snapped, glaring at Techno.
A blush colored Techno’s cheeks. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Nothing, Dream, it’s nothing,” he said. Dream was still glaring at him. He reached out and began wiping Dream’s face clean. “I was just expectin’ some hideous creature but you’re not half bad.”
It was Dream’s turn to blush and Techno felt a sense of satisfaction about that.
“God, you’re so annoying,” said Dream, stuttering over his words.
Techno cupped the side of Dream’s face and rubbed his thumb over his cheek, telling himself that it was because Dream needed some gentleness, that any reaction from Dream was a good one, even if that meant embarrassing him like this. There was no other reason.
The voices in his head loudly protested that thought but Techno ignored them.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He moved to wipe the blood from Dream’s neck. There were bruises on the pale skin and Dream shuddered when Techno touched it. “I mean it, Dream, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Blinking, Dream looked away.
“I’m tired,” he said.
“It’s dang impossible to sleep in here, no wonder you’re tired. They didn’t even give you a bed,” Techno said. He pulled his cloak back up over Dream’s shoulders. “Alright, come here, man.”
Confusion crossed over Dream’s face but Techno pulled him close, against his chest, and laid back, bringing Dream with him. Laying down on the floor was more uncomfortable than sitting – a larger area for the stone to dig into Techno’s flesh and bones – but at least it gave Dream something to lay on, even if that something was Techno himself. He curled up on top of Techno, hips poking into his stomach, face pressed against Techno’s chest.
Without thinking, Techno stroked the side of his face, fingers tracing Dream’s jawline, other hand over Dream’s, and waited for him to fall asleep.
Dream hadn’t put his mask back on. It had been kicked under the lectern and sat there, untouched. Techno didn’t mind. Dream also had kept next to him, pressed against Techno’s shoulder, despite how much he would complain about Techno being annoying, and Techno didn’t mind that either.
Not that he would admit it, not right now.
It wasn’t the right time, not when the bruises on Dream were only now starting to fade, not when he would still flinch if he wasn’t expecting to be touched. But when Dream laughed at Techno’s jokes and leaned his head on Techno’s shoulder, he really wished it was the right time.
A sound, somewhere distant in the prison, broke the silence and next to him, Dream stiffened. Another sound, like a grinding of gears, followed and he began to tremble.
“No—No, no, they—He—”
The words were clumsy and Dream tightened his grip on Techno’s cloak, eyes wide.
“No, no, nonono.”
The noise was louder now. At first Techno had thought it was Sam dropping more potatoes into the cell but the noise was different, closer and louder, and Dream’s reaction made panic flare in his own chest. He put his hand on Dream’s back, rubbing in small circles.
“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” he asked.
All the color had drained from Dream’s face. It made the freckles and scars and ugly yellow bruises stand out even more.
“He—he stopped coming. Why is he coming now?”
A jolt of realization hit Techno.
“You mean Quackity?”
Dream nodded.
“Look, Dream, I’m not gonna let him hurt you,” he said, putting his hands on either side of Dream’s face. “No dang way I’m lettin’ him torture you.”
The fear in Dream’s eyes faded for a moment, replaced by sadness. It made Techno’s chest hurt.
“You can’t stop him. He’s going to—He won’t stop,” said Dream, the panic becoming hushed. “He likes it and I—I mean—It doesn’t matter. You can’t stop him.”
The wall of lava slowly began to lower and the voices in Techno’s head grew to a din.
“I’m gonna try, Dream.”
The bridge moved across the lake of lava and Techno got to his feet, standing in front of Dream. On the moving platform, he could see two figures, one tall and in netherite, the other shorter, without armor. Sam and Quackity. That shattered the plan Techno had been forming in his head; he might have been able to take Quackity unarmed, but there was no way he could hold off both Sam and Quackity.
Reaching out behind him, keeping his eyes on the platform, Techno touched Dream’s shoulder.
With a thud, the platform connected to the cell and the netherite divider rose. A smile was on Quackity’s face, gold tooth catching the light from the lava. No one spoke. Sam unhooked two potions from his belt, the glass bottles oddly shaped, and tossed them into the cell. They shattered at Techno’s feet, splashing him and Dream.
Weakness potion. He gritted his teeth.
“Seriously, Sam? You don’t even say hello? I gotta say, I’m not too fond of the way you’re treatin’ your prisoners,” said Techno.
Sam remained silent but Quackity laughed.
“Oh, I wouldn’t speak too soon if I was you, Techno.”
“Get back, prisoner. I don’t have time for this,” Sam said, voice muffled by the mask he wore. Techno didn’t move and Sam pulled another potion from his belt. “Back against the wall, now.”
The color of this potion was different than the last and Techno recognized it as a harming potion. His shoulders sagged slightly and he turned to help Dream to his feet.
“Not him. Just you.”
Techno glared, considered arguing, but after a moment, he shrugged his shoulders and moved to stand against the wall. He had ignored the chains hanging from the obsidian at first but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to ignore them for much longer.
The netherite barrier lowered and Techno took an involuntary step forward. The potion bottle flew through the air and smashed against the wall by Techno’s head. Pain shot through him and he staggered back, glancing at Dream. The potion had hit him as well but he was on his feet.
“Sam, you can’t—You can’t do this, Sam. He’s not—”
Sam’s gauntleted hand flashed out. The slap was so hard that it sent Dream flying to the side, blood dripping on the floor. Dream caught himself on the lectern and sunk down, eyes on the ground, silent. It all happened so quickly that Techno could barely follow the chain events before Sam was gripping his arm and forcing his wrists into the shackles. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to resist, anyway, thanks to the potions but it still grated at him, even as he let himself slide down the wall.
Stepping back, Sam nodded towards Quackity.
“Do what you need to,” he said. “I’ll be back.”
The grin on Quackity’s face widened. Behind him, Sam stepped onto the platform and the netherite barrier rose.
“Well, fellas, what do you say we get this party started?”