𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍 ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ˢᵐᵖ ʷᵃʳ

ELEVEN: UNRECOGNIZED HOMESICKNESS

You're being taken away again, and a part of Tommy wished you had gone with a fight. He would have much preferred to see brutal resistance, nails clawing at frail skin, hands snapping the bow that had been used to injure him. But instead you turn away almost as if you were trying to hide your tears and let the despair settle over you.

"It's time to go, (first name)," Dream's voice calls out. His voice sounds like nails against blackboard. You remove yourself from Wilbur's space and brace yourself, closing your face to remain steely and unmoving even under the soft spots of amber of fireflies. You're not willing to fight, and that makes you smarter than the rest of them. You know they're bigger and more merciful than you are, but because of your frailty you're more prone to lethality than men who just want peace. "Now, Tommy, I'm expecting the other half to be given to me. And, as soon as it is, we will cease fire, and revoke—"

"Wait, no Dream, no—" The blond pulls himself out of the water, coughing and sodden, and you want so desperately to tug him up, wipe away the water, and pin Dream down into death. "Can we have a private meeting. Just a millisecond. Please. For the L'manberg."

Dream's grip on your wrist is like an iron shackle. He maneuvers you to George and Sapnap, who are far gentler to you; at least the former was. The latter didn't quite appreciate the cruelty you had bestowed on him during your escape.

You watch the two men walk away into a secret meeting.

"Why'd you do it?"

You don't turn your head to the voice. Sapnap narrows his eyes at your unfazed composure. You stay still, in the darkness, waiting until your eyes feel remote and distant from your body because you're afraid that any unprepared words might bring tears down your cheeks.

"Because I wanted to leave," You say. "You wouldn't have let me."

"And what did you meant by that, that you believe in creation?"

You don't elaborate for a while. Despite your silence he knows you have your guard up, poised, alert, the corners of your mouth stiff and unmoving like the head of a coin. Sapnap wonders if his eyes are gleaming like yours, like some animal's, in the soothing amber dusk.

"We are the Gods now," You finally reply. And now you feel open, like a door unhinged, prepared for the wrath of religions blurring together like the whirl of trees from the inside of a carriage. "What we choose is what we are. I chose to escape. Because I am now free."

"...That fucking hurt," Sapnap says. George stifles a laugh when you don't seem fazed at all at his response. "When you knocked me out."

"Hopefully it leaves a scar, then." You snap.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Sapnap deadpans, and he pokes his sword tip at George's flank when he unapologetically burst out laughing.

Meanwhile, Dream was stunned into silence at Tommy's offer.

"Both Cat and Mellohi."

"That is...a very, very, very interesting deal. That is very selfless of you, Tommy. Those are your discs."

"For..." His thoughts flicker to Wilbur's face, before it dissolved away into weight on his shoulder, the same warm weight that had befallen his shoulder when you had gently consoled but reprimanded him. Maybe he was offering these for guilt, a way to say I'm sorry for using you as something to get what I want without outright saying it to you. "For the L'manberg. For everyone—not for Eret! But two discs. We get independence, and we get (first name) back."

He shakes his head. His blond hair falls over his mask when he loosens it. "I don't understand, Tommy. The discs over some woman you don't even know well and technical independence?"