━━ THERE WASN'T A REASON.

There never really was a reason for any of this. At least, one that people could actually understand. Now perhaps, their minds aren't able to comprehend something bigger than them all.

Or perhaps, there simply wasn't a reason.

Reasoning was always subjective, is it not? One person may kill out of revenge, one for money, and one in self-defense. Or for the fun of it.

So does anyone really need a reason for anything?

Besides, the reason for something never seems to be quite enough for somebody. They always seem to question it further, as if there's another point to it.

Even people in court, it was a scramble for something that pleased the people.

It's all a bit pointless.

Regardless, Tommy still wants to know Dream's reason.

The prison looms before him, a place that had been meant for him. If things had turned out any different, he might've been the one locked up. A shiver runs down his spine. It had only been a day since death had knocked on his door.

He was happy to say he slammed the door back in its face and screamed: 'fuck you prick! I'll live another day if I want to!'

Things haven't been quiet since, but they were peaceful. He remembers talking to his brother, then catching fish in the river with Tubbo until finally crashing at 7am. He woke up this morning.

There was just something different in the air.

And for some reason, Tommy decided he was going to visit Dream.

Maybe he's still a bit sleep-deprived.

He walks into the Blackstone building in front of the prison, a red and white carpet bringing him to an unlit nether portal. To the right, there's a buzzer.

Tommy takes a few seconds to glance around the room. There are redstone lamps in the ceiling, giving it an ominous glow and sharp quartz corners.

He musters up the rest of his courage and presses the button.

"Sam?"

A beat later, a voice comes through. "Tommy?"

"Hi, Sam."

"Hello."

"I'm outside the prison, or well, I'm inside this building. And you've got this unlit nether portal here and—,"

"Are you ready to come in?" Sam cuts him off.

"Yes."

"Give me a moment."

The line goes dead, and Tommy stands back. He watches as the nether portal lights itself, and Sam's voice comes through again.

"You can enter."

"Okay," Tommy steps through, his stomach twisting into knots as the purple clouds his vision. When he reaches the other side, Sam instructs him to go through again. When Tommy does, his lips part.

"Welcome to the prison."

Tommy blinks. He wants to go home now.

There's something that's just downright unsettling about the place. Maybe it's the obsidian walls, or the mining fatigue weighing on Tommy's bones, or even just the way Sam is looking at Tommy. He was no longer the friendly creeper-hybrid, but rather, a stone-cold emotionless... thing.

"Thanks," Tommy mumbles.

"Before you do anything, I'll need you to read and sign these documents." Sam points to a stack of paper in front of his desk, and Tommy steps up to inspect them. It was a waiver. Tommy reads it aloud to Sam and grabs a pen, signing his name at the bottom. Sam then leads him over to the locker room and gives him a key to put in his enderchest.

"Everything?" Tommy gulps, clutching his compass necklace.

"Everything."

With a shuddering breath, Tommy drops the compass into his chest. He drops the key into the enderchest on his left and turns around.

Sam stands there, trident in hand, and leads him through a door.

"I'm going to have to do a manual search," He said. "Stand still."

It was like that the rest of the way. Every so often, there was another checkpoint, and Tommy would be padded down. The prison was far more complex than he had imagined. On top of all the searches, there were lava walls, winding corridors, and giant steel doors. It felt inescapable — it was inescapable.

Tommy passes through another door, down a hallway lined with cells, does one more search before being lead up some stairs. There's a three-lock system on the door that takes Sam's retina scan, fingerprint, and six-digit code before opening.

When it slams behind him, Tommy jumps. The room before him is dark and hot. Tommy looks straight ahead to find the sunset colors of lava flowing down. Sam's on the other side of the room, and he flips a switch.

"There's another form of waivers over there you need to sign," He said.

Tommy crosses the room to read them. He skims through before signing. Sam wouldn't let him die in prison, and Dream wasn't escaping anytime soon.

"Stand here." Sam points to a place marked in front of the lava with his trident.

Tommy does as he's told. He's not sure how long he waits, but it feels like an eternity. The lava slows to nothing, and Tommy can see a box in the center of it. Giant pillars surround it, lava still spiraling down them. There's a bar preventing the prisoner from getting out, and Tommy sees the faintest glimpse of a smiley face.

"Step with the platform," Sam instructs. "Yell when you're ready."

The stone beneath his feet begins to move, and Tommy almost trips. The heat from the room settles on him like a cloud, and he stares straight forward. He didn't want to look at the lava below him. Tommy passes by the massive pillars and stops in front of the bar. There's some space for him to maneuver onto it, and once he does, his ticket out departs. Once it's halfway across, the bar separating him from Dream drops into the floor. Then the heat thickens as mounds of lava begin to flow, and Tommy watches as Sam disappears from his view.

"Enjoy your visit, Tommy."

He turns to look at Dream. The masked man wears an orange jumpsuit and the same porcelain mask; numerous scars covered his tan skin, probably from the other day. It was weird seeing him like this.

"You must feel so embarrassed," Tommy said, glancing around the room. It's poorly lit with a glowstone lamp in the corner. There's a cot under it, a sink, and a chest. To the far right, there's a toilet.

There's also a clock.

Dream remains sat on his bed, cross-legged. "I've been going crazy in here."

Tommy looks him over, notices the shake in his voice. "Yeah, you sure sound it."

"Well, because there's like — just you are the first person to visit me. But I've been alone in here, there's just lava, there's—"

"Did you miss me?" Tommy asked though he didn't care for the answer. It's only been a day.

Dream shrugs. "Not really, but..."

"Really?" Tommy mocked fake disappointment, pouting. He then glances to the chest. "What have you been up to?"

"I've been writing — well, not yet, but I'm going to..." Dream trails off. He points towards the clock.

"I like watching the clock."

"Are you gonna write a biography?" Tommy asked.

"I don't know. I feel like I'll write something. I have a lot of books. I can write whatever I want."

Tommy hums, pacing around the room, but still maintaining a safe distance from Dream. He could still hurt him; he doesn't doubt it. Dream was more than the weapons he carried and the plans he executed. He was pure evil.

"Um, so, what's been going on? How are you?" Dream asked. He fiddles with his hands, staring at them.

Tommy looks at Dream. He really looks at him. And he scoffs. "You fucked up, you know? Everyone hates you now. You're like a dick now. Everyone goes: 'Dream the dick.'"

Dream looks up from his hands. He shrugs and puts them behind his back, resting on them. "Well, I'm in prison now, so there is no reason for them to hate me anyway. Right?"

"No one really likes you, bruv," Tommy said. His gaze shifts to the clock hanging on the wall. He grabs the side of it and begins to spin it. "Hey, look at that clock spin, look at that, hey!"

"That is pretty cool," Dream said, standing up and grabbing the side of the clock. Tommy's never heard such... nothing from his voice. It's void. "That's a new game."

"Excuse me," Tommy said, shouldering past Dream to grab the clock. Some part of him still didn't believe prison was enough for Dream. Some part of him wanted to take away everything, including the clock.

"Tommy," Dream drawls. It's that same tone he used in exile. "Give me my clock."

"Or what? You're gonna kill me?" Tommy jabbed. "It won't be fun anymore. You said it yourself. Turns out I've actually had the power of you all along. I just didn't know it."

Dream stares at Tommy blankly. After a minute of silence, Tommy's shoulders fall.

He puts the clock back. "You can have your clock back. I mean, you are gonna be here for a long ass time."

"That's true. I kinda need it."

"Everyone is gonna feel bad, I mean," Tommy sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I did feel bad for you, but you were actually going to kill my best friend and hold me in here—"

Dream nods. "I was."

Tommy scrunches up his nose in disgust at that. "You would have put me in here!"

"Well, to be fair, you are in here right now. But you know."

"This is really a sad sight."

"Well, I mean, it's not too bad, right? I can write, I can read, they bring me food to eat."

Tommy shakes his head, stepping back. "Deserved. You deserve it."

"They just bring me raw potatoes, though."

"This is a really—"

"And I can swim," Dream said. He gestures towards the lava holding them inside. It's only then that Tommy notices the raw skin on Dream's neck.

"Hey, Dream, are you getting all sad?"

"No," Dream said, but it sounds more like a question.

"Hey, Dream, watch this!" Tommy exclaimed. "I am your best friend, Dream. I am your friend, and I will come and visit you every day. By the way, throw this in this hole I've made. Does this remind you of anything, prick?" Tommy spat, venom on his tongue.

Dream just tilts his head. "I'd like it if you visit me."

"You're so... Oh my god!" Tommy said, backing away. "I'm laughing at you right now."

"Just please visit me. Just visit me..." Dream reaches a hand towards Tommy, who, in return, steps back. So far back, he can feel the heat of the lava on his kin.

"I'm not — why would — I don't want to visit you every day!" He backtracks. "It took like an hour to get in here! And it's just sad. You've been exiled, bitch! You've been imprisoned!"

"Maybe I'll be better, and then you let me out."

"No."

"Really? What if it's like a long time and I've behaved, and I'm better?"

Tommy doesn't think about it, but he pretends to. Just to humor Dream. He looks him up and down, taking in his dirty jumpsuit, matted hair, and burned skin. "You look like shit."

It's only been what? A day? A heavy silence rests in the room and Tommy turns to stare at the lava. He's not sure what else to say.

"Tommy, I'm sorry."

Tommy blinks, raising his eyebrows. "Really?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Ehh," Dream shrugs. "For everything, I did to you."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Tommy narrows his eyes. "How do I know you're not lying?"

"I have no reason to lie." Dream returns to his place on the cot.

"Yeah, but you could have said that last," Tommy sighs. Dream didn't mean it. He'd never be sorry. "You've really fucked with us, you know? Like—"

"That wasn't necessarily the pan."

"You've really fucked with all of us, Dream. And everyone thinks that you're really bad. But I think if you could prove it to me, by writing, maybe I'd start to kinda forgive you for every single terrible thing you did to me," Tommy said. Every bad thing. That was quite a lot of things. Would Tommy really forgive that easily?

"Cause I'm not out here to just push you around, you know? I'm not out here to umm... to manipulate you, Dream. Cause you've manipulated me, and you've manipulated so many people, and you were actually the reason why this place was shit, for quite a long time. And even though it's got a long way to go, it's about to start being just about okay."

Tommy thinks about how nice everything has been since Dream was imprisoned. Sure, it had only been a day, but it just felt better. The birds sang in the morning, people walked around without their swords. They smiled and laughed. And the only thing that had changed was Dream going away. "But the person who needs to fix themselves the most, Dream, is you. And you could do that... by writing why."

Tommy wants to know. Scratch that; he needs to know. It didn't make sense. Dream couldn't just be pure evil. There had to be something that made him snap, and Tommy wants to know what it is.

He didn't want to end up like him. But for some reason, as they both stand in this cell, Tommy's never felt so much like Dream.

"I can't do that."

"Why not?" Tommy questions.

"It's a lot of... unresolved feelings."

Tommy puffs his chest out. "I can therapize you. I can be a little therapist if you'd like. Tell me, how are you feeling?"

"Um," Dream pauses for a long time. He stares at his socks. "Sad."

"Why?"

"Cause I've lost my friends..."

Tommy furrows his brows at that. Dream has caused that himself. He can't be sad about something he did. "But they - you didn't—"

"And all my stuff, And my land, and you."

Tommy backs further away at that. He coughs. "I think I've diagnosed you already. How do you feel about losing your stuff?"

"Bad."

"Who do you miss the most?" Tommy asked.

A long silence hangs in the air before Dream finally speaks. "I think you should go, Tommy."

Tommy smirks. "Who do you miss the most?"

"I think you should go, Tommy," Dream repeats.

"No, tell me who you miss the most!" Tommy demands.

Dream hits a button next to his cot. "Guard! Guard!"

"No, no, no!" Tommy protests, laughing nervously.

"What," Sam's voice came through.

"Tommy wants to leave."

"Okay."

"No!" Tommy shouts. "No, I don't!"

"Get out," Dream seethed.

"Tommy," Sam said flatly.

Tommy's body feels weird. It's all tingly. Must've been the device Sam put on him earlier. The transporter, as he called it. He can feel bits of himself being pulled away, back to where Sam was. This was it.

"Who do you miss the most, Dream!" Tommy screams as he disappears.

There's only one person in Dream's mind, (Y/N).

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
wc; 2.5K
Song inspo: frozen pines by lord huron
Originally published: August 9th, 2021 8:00pm

a/n: IM BACK BITCHES!! I also had my first day back at school... I hate everyone <3 high school is hell ANYWHO I'm back!! here is it :D the sequel

I hope you're all just as excited as I am for this! and thank you so much for reading <3 I'm so happy I get to write this for you guys !