«☆Dream angst oneshots☆» (Slow Updates)

✧☆Broken Promises☆✧

Summary:
Dream wants to help and keep his promises, but it's a difficult feat if you're being tortured 24/7 and no one else believes you.

Notes:
TW: minor character death, repetitive dying, heavy torture, animal abuse/death, dissociation, DPDR, amnesia

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Chapter Text:

“You’re a fucking bitch, you know that?” Dream looked up at Tommy, the glow from the lava reflecting off of the boy’s face. The warmth was contrasted by his ice cold eyes that pierced through Dream’s soul, making the older man cringe. Tommy had been stuck with him for a couple of days now after there was an incident during the last time Tommy was supposed to be visiting him, supposedly. And Dream didn’t even know what it was himself, he was just talking to Tommy when the sound of explosions came out of nowhere. But Tommy was convinced that Dream was somehow behind everything and he took out his frustrations on the prisoner for it.

“Tommy…” Dream muttered, tired of the teen’s constant insulting, which Tommy had been doing ever since he got trapped in the prison.

“What?!”

“I…” Dream paused.

“If you’re not going to say anything other than ‘I’m sorry’ then I don’t want to hear it.” Tommy huffed, crossing his arms and ignoring Dream, who was opening his mouth to speak again. “Like, man, are you even worth keeping around anymore? Because Wilbur doesn’t want to be revived anymore…” Dream’s eyes widened, which Tommy took notice of.

“What?”

“Yeah, his voice just showed up one day, telling us all to not revive him, no matter the cost. It was weird, but...I mean...if that’s what he wants.” Dream was confused, why would Wilbur not want to be revived? Wasn’t he supposed to come back, just like Dream promised he would do? He was only alive because they wanted the revival book, but now the only person who they wanted to revive didn’t want to?

Dream let out an exasperated sigh, he just couldn’t understand why Wilbur said to not be revived, choosing instead to watch Tommy pace around the cell, yelling out profanities.

Tommy was still swearing, even now and Dream was getting tired of it. It had been a week since Tommy first arrived and was trapped with him. It was a week of endless swearing, teasing, mocking that left no room for Dream to even think about making a rebuttal. So he didn’t, Dream just sat in the corner, taking every word Tommy threw at him. Some of them hurt, reminding Dream of his broken friendships and the pain he had caused everyone. Dream didn’t need Tommy to tell him what he did wrong, he already knew about all his fuck ups.

And Dream did try to apologize, he already tried on multiple occasions, but each time they were never enough. The apologies weren’t “sincere” enough to Tommy’s liking and Dream had no idea how to make them better. He apologized, admitted to his wrongs, but Tommy just thought that he was lying and trying to gain his sympathy. But Dream just let it be, he let the younger blonde scream at him at the top of his lungs. Dream knew what he did to everyone, especially Tommy, he regretted his heinous actions committed against Tommy during his exile. He hated himself for it and if Tommy wanted any relief by yelling at him, Dream would gladly let him.

But Dream could tell that his spirit was slowly breaking even though he tried his very best to ignore every hurtful comment Tommy spat at him. If Tommy could survive through all the shit he put the teen through, he should be able to take a few words...right? That’s what Dream thought at the beginning, but eventually the remarks got crueler, more targeted at Dream’s weaknesses. Dream had to hold back tears every time Tommy told him that no one ever loved him and that his so-called “friends” were happy that he was locked away. And Dream knew that he had no right to call Tommy out for his words, because how could he when he had already caused the boy so much pain? He couldn’t, he didn’t have the right to and didn’t deserve forgiveness after what he had done. Tommy had every right to do whatever he wanted with Dream, to get back at him, but he couldn’t help the self-pity that seemed to grow with each word. He couldn’t control it and he hated that he felt sorry for himself.