LOSING GAME ➳ dreamwastaken

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞

Technoblade was even more guarded than usual in the coming days. Although he would never admit it aloud, Reverie knew that Ghostbur's words had stung him. She could see it in his steely blue eyes—the pain, the anguish. His own brother had no good memories of him. His own brother had forgotten him.

On the fourth day of absolutely no human interaction, Reverie was beginning to fold in on herself. The only things she had for company were a brown horse and her own pulverising thoughts. As she endured many sleepless nights, staring at the beamed ceiling above, Schlatt's final words played on repeat in her head.

"It's coming."

What was it? Why had it taken Lamia, Reverie and Tubbo's mother? Why now, after all these years, was it returning? And why was it coming for Reverie?

Reverie was also plagued with horrifying thoughts of what Tommy may be experiencing in exile. Techno had gone to check up on him once, but he remained hidden from view, shadowed by the surrounding trees. He told Reverie exactly where he had found Tommy and the directions that she would need to follow to find him, but she had never actually gone to pay him a visit.

She wondered if Tommy received any visitors in exile, or if he was simply alone, the forgotten hero exiled by his people and doomed to die alone on a deserted island.

His story was almost a perfect mirror imagine of that of Theseus.

Reverie left early one morning, a quiver of arrows strapped to her back, her rusty iron sword attached to her waist, Wilbur's hat pulled tightly over her ears and the green piece of Dream's hoodie wrapped around her wrist rather than tied into her hair.

Tommy's new home was surprisingly not too far from Technoblade's cabin. Reverie wandered upon it within a few short hours, and the sight that unfolded before her made her heart ache.

Two tents were perched near the seaside, connected by a freshly dug dirt path. Flaming pillars acted as lampposts, against one of which Tommy was slumped. He held his knees close to his chest as sobs racked his body. His red and white shirt and beige jeans were frayed, torn and splattered with dirt. Various scratches and nicks bestrewed his arms and his hair was filled with clumps of dirt.

Reverie steadily approached, being careful not to frighten Tommy. She could feel her heart shattering in her chest. As she grew closer, she could hear the shameless gasps and the sobs that Tommy allowed to escape him.

"Tommy?" Reverie said gently.

Tommy was on his feet in a matter of milliseconds, his enlarged eyes darting in all directions, hastening to find the source of the voice. Panting, he scrambled backwards and stumbled as his heels collided with stray rocks that protruded from his dirt path.

"Dream?" he called, panicking. "Dream, I—I swear I don't have anything. I'm sorry, I—"

Horror built in Reverie's chest and crawled into her throat. Her veins pulsing rapidly, she hurried forwards and seized Tommy by the shoulders, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"Tommy, Tommy, it's me," she told him reassuringly but firmly. "It's Reverie."

As Reverie's words washed over him, Tommy's breathing slowly but surely came to rest at a more steady pace. He stopped resisting Reverie's grip and a large portion of the terror that swirled in his eyes began to alleviate.

"Rev—Reverie?" he asked timidly.

"Yeah, Tommy, it's me."

"What are you doing here?" Tommy asked breathlessly, then his eyes fully focused on the girl before him and an expression of firm bitterness settled on his face. With little to no warning, he aggressively shoved Reverie away and growled, "What are you doing here?"