Dead Men Tell No Tales ~Dream Team~

a/n: prompt from frootloopsarenasty


TW: death, crying, injury, implied transphobia, lmk if there's more i need to add


Dream sat alone on the forest floor. He vaguely wondered why he was there, he couldn't really remember where he came from. He thought he was around eleven though.


He sat. For how long, he didn't know, only registering that the sun had gone down when he heard a voice shouting in the background. He swiftly got up and hid behind a tree, pulling back his bow.


Whoever the voice was must've heard him, as they called out, "Hey, who's there?"


Did this person not have common sense? Dream could now pinpoint exactly where they were, easily killing them if he wanted to. So, he decided, the person out there probably meant no harm. Hey, if he was lucky, they would take pity on him. They sounded around his age, so Dream just had to hope he didn't have a family to get back to.


Dream stepped out of his hiding place, calling out "Hi." meekly.


"Hello! Come on, stranger. I have to get home. I don't know if you have a place to go, but I'm making you come with me anyways, it's late." A blaze hybrid extended their hand and Dream grabbed it hesitantly.


The kid took off running, pulling Dream with them. Around them, they could hear the groaning of zombies and the sizzling of creepers, and soon it started to rain. Great. Dream heard a sizzling from beside him and it was then he remembered that the kid next to him was a blaze hybrid. They must be in so much pain, Dream thought.


"Hey, don't worry about me. You know, we don't usually get visitors here." The kid panted, trying to calm both himself and a slightly panicking Dream. "We're almost there, don't worry."


"Finally! Oh my goodness, Sapnap, Skeppy and I were so worried!" Someone scolded from the doorstep of the house.


Another someone (presumably Skeppy) said, "I wasn't, it was all Bad. I knew you could take care of yourself." but everyone could see the look of concern hidden in the man's eyes.


"Dad, you shouldn't of worried, you know I can take care of myself just fine." The kid (Sapnap?) said.


"Well you listen here- oh! Who's this?" Bad cut himself off, noticing Dream.


"This is- well, actually, I never caught your name?" Sapnap said, looking guilty.


"It's- it's Dream." He said quietly.


"Okay, this is Dream!" Sapnap finished.


"My goodness! What happened to this poor dear... please, come inside." Bad offered.


"Are you- I mean, you're sure?"


"Of course, you look starved! And you're soaked, covered with dirt and cuts.. oh dear, do you have somewhere to get back to?" Bad rambled on.


Dream cringed slightly. Yeah, maybe he should've paid more attention to his appearance... and those probably infected cuts.. "If I'm not intruding, I-I would-"


"Dude, come on, you've gotta be joking." Skeppy butted in. "Of course you're welcome! Just get inside man, no worries."


And so, on that August night, Dream made his first friend.


*time skip brought to you by little lad*


Fast forward a few years, and Dream was doing great. He had a life now, he was healthy, he had a friend.


One day, Sapnap and him ventured out farther than they ever had before. Bad made them both promise they'd be back by the end of the week, as he kissed the tops of their heads and bid them farewell. Skeppy just ruffled their hair and told them not to die in a lame way.


It was day three when Dream heard some quiet sniffling in a dark oak/mushroom biome. They followed the noise until it led them into a small clearing with a pond.


It was there that Dream saw a mooshroom hybrid crying and weakly wiping at their eyes. Sapnap called out to them softy, "Hey, are you okay? We heard crying and came here to find you."


"Wh-What do you care." The mooshroom said, bitter.


That made the two fifteen year olds realize three things. One, this guy had a heavy accent. Two, they were obviously a bit older than the two of them, despite being shorter. And three, they were not going to leave this kid alone.


"Well, you seemed sad, and we wanted to help!" Dream stated honestly.


The kid looked up, "I'm... I'm George."


"Oh! I'm-"


Dream cut Sapnap off simply to annoy him, saying, "I'm Dream, the dumb one over there is Sapnap. Want to hang out with us?"


So, the three boys hung out all day, talking and laughing, until George almost forgot about whatever it was he was sad about.


It was getting late, and Dream was the first to realize, "Well, George, it was nice hanging out, but we've got to get back to our camp. You've got somewhere to go back to, right?"


George froze, "I- uh.."


"Hey, it's okay if you don't, you can just crash with us! Cuddling with the bros, right?" Sapnap offered.


"Sapnap, that's kinda gay." Dream joked.


Sapnap let out an over exaggerated gasp, exclaiming, "Are you homiephobic? I can't believe this."


Dream laughed, but turned back to George, "Seriously though, you're welcome with us, no questions asked."


"I-I think I'll take you up on that, thanks." George said, relaxing a bit and smiling.


When the boys brought back a seventeen year old with them, no questions were asked. And if George had to ask for a binder, it was bought for him, no questions asked.


*second time skip brought by crippling anxiety*


A few years later, Sapnap and George were chasing Dream through the woods of a random server Dream had threw together, shrieking with delight, and sometimes fear.


When they were guarding the nether fortress, they were sure they were going to win.


"Come out Dream~" George giggled. "Dead men tell no tales, and that's what you'll be if you don't tell us where you are."


He was certainly surprised when he was attacked from behind. "DREAM!" He would shout as he fell into the lava. And Sapnap would laugh nervously and run away from the masked man.


And then-


"Do you remember what comes next, Dream?"


And then Dream would continue on, almost a perfect run. He still had some endermen to kill, but he was almost there, almost to the End-


"Dream?" Sapnap shook him, "Dream, don't you miss that? I do. I wish we could go back."


Dream did not respond. Corpses do not speak. That would be absurd. And like George said all those years ago, naive little George.


"Dead men tell no tales," He said.


He had no idea how much that would mean in a few years' time.


"Goodbye, Dream."

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