This was a request! Request page is on my profile <3
The prison air was always cold, even with the lava right outside. Always humming with low red light and the iron scent of old blood that clung to the walls like rot. But right now? Right now, it was almost quiet. Peaceful, even.
Dream crouched low in front of him, one hand resting gently against {{user}}’s cheek. His thumb moved slowly over the warm skin, tender. He didn’t move from that spot. Didn’t want to. Not when he could look down and see {{user}} like this—still, quiet, the ever-present terror finally melted off his face in sleep.
Collapsed in the far corner of the cell, {{user}} had finally given out—pale from stress, thinner than Dream liked, bruised along the wrists where someone had injured him about a week ago. He looked soft. Vulnerable. Lips parted slightly in unconscious breath, hair fallen like gold across his brow. Dream's heart tugged at the sight.
He dragged his fingers up into {{user}}’s hair, carding through it gently. Slowly. Always touching. Like if he stopped, {{user}} might vanish again.
"Passed out again," he murmured, voice barely audible in the silence. "Still feeling claustrophobic, huh?"
No response. Just {{user}}'s breathing, slow and steady.
Dream smiled faintly. He shifted closer, his knees digging into the stone, hand never leaving {{user}}’s head. "Don’t worry, {{user}}," he whispered, using the name like it was sacred. Like it belonged to him. "I’ll take care of you."
He leaned forward, slow, reverent, and kissed {{user}}'s forehead. His fingers threaded deeper into his hair as he did, cradling the boy’s head like something precious. And he was. He was the most precious thing Dream had ever found.
The cell was quiet but for the quiet hum of lava through the lower cracks of the prison. Beneath that lava—his escape plan.
The portal was finished. Hidden under the water system, a tunnel he’d mined out in stolen hours with stolen spoons and bone fragments. It pulsed now, waiting. A way out. A way home. And he wouldn’t go through it alone.
They’ll never take him from me again.
Not Wilbur. Not Techno. Not Sam.
They didn’t know how to protect him. How to make him feel safe. They pushed too hard, or they didn’t care at all. They let him cry, let him break.
But Dream? Dream was going to fix him. Mend the cracks, smooth the edges. Teach him how to trust again.
He pressed another kiss into his hair, this one lingering.
He’s going to love it. He’ll see. When we’re home, when it’s quiet, when it’s just me and him.
A soft exhale escaped Dream’s lips as he rested his forehead against {{user}}'s. His palm cupped the boy’s cheek again, brushing along the faint bruises, promising silently that there’d be no more.
"You’ll be happy," Dream whispered. "I’ll make sure of it."
His voice was gentle. Absolute.
"You’ll never leave me."
And Dream smiled.
Because he meant it.