safeguard - dream and technoblade

𝙤𝙣𝙚

DREAM'S POV
The same, familiar, sickeningly pristine, white walls surrounded me as I sat nervously in my seat. My knees bobbed subconsciously, my feet tapping on the hard floor, the passing nurses and patients staring at me pitifully at my clenching and unclenching fists and terrible state.

My fingers trembled as my breathing becomes shallow, although not shallow enough to have raised too much concern. Why?

I was anticipating the moment that I was let in, the doctor's head down in shame and Mom already in a sobbing mess . I've already known what would happen when we got that email from the doctors. I already knew about my deteriorating condition. I wasn't so dumb and ignorant to ignore the already  known.

Of course that didn't stop anybody from hoping but to be realistic and maybe slightly pessimistic, the doctors had originally thought that I would die at childhood at best.

Of course, I had proved them wrong, living until 16 with no tremendously major issues. I was the captain of the ice hockey team for a year, the captain of the football team another and for the most part, if you didn't know, you didn't notice.

In fact, I looked like I was getting better. My fatigue was noticeably less prominent and my life seemed to be going uphill until last week; I'd rather not to mention that to be honest. My eventual demise is inevitable anyway.

Weirdly though, that moment never came. I'm never called in, I never get to see my mom cry, I never get to see the ashamed look on the doctor's face. Instead, I'm brought outside by Bad, a nurse who was definitely used to my frequent visits, and escorted into a shiny, black car.

It doesn't look unfriendly but on second note, maybe a little shady and untrustworthy. I turned to Bad for maybe a look of reassurance or an indication of said-so but he only smiled at me before giving me a gentle push into the car. He muttered me a quiet, bittersweet goodbye before waving me off.

The car ride was long and insufferable, the silence extremely overbearing. I find myself trying to catch a glimpse of the ever-so-mysterious driver. In the end, I didn't but instead I found other ways to occupy myself.

I counted the ticking seconds as they turned into minutes and soon, clocking at a half an hour. We arrived at my house but it had taken a strangely long amount of time and the winding roads were unfamiliar even though I had practically memorized the shortest way from home to hospital. The driver turned to me, his face anonymous underneath a pair of shades?

He gave me the slightest of whispers, ushering me to go back and to finally leave him alone. His tone was annoyed with a mix of exhaustion but wasn't mocking nor noticeably mean. I obliged without any resistance as there's no reason to, but I found myself stupidly tired and drowsy by the time I reached the front door.

I gave a weak knock on the door, my knees, left first, then followed by the right, beginning to fail me as I lean against the doorframe for support- the lights were off in the corridor and no signs of anyone in the house yet.

I glance back to where the black car should have been, to find a missing space. I didn't have the keys and my phone battery just happened to die a few hours earlier.

'A lovely coincidence, am I right?' I whisper-grumbled to myself as I got myself as comfortable as I could on concrete steps. I took off my jacket, placing it over my shivering knees as I tried to rest.

My eyes are getting progressively more tired and almost shut, encouraged by a serene, lulling voice far off into the distance. My eyes are shut, darkness finally enveloping me in the chilly night.

TECHNO'S POV
Did I just see what I thought I saw?

I was walking across the streets, taking my sister home from a monthly doctors visit when somewhat far into the distance, I see Dream? He's sitting on the steps of a house, practically shivering underneath his thin jacket.

On closer inspection, he's actually sleeping. I glanced quickly at my little sister, Ava, who was still holding my hand. She stared at the sleeping man, blurting out the most unexpected thing,

"Oh, it's that guy you really really hate and fight with all the time!"

"Not quite..."

I mean, we fought and had some friendly rivalry (I think) but I didn't ever think it was extreme enough to the point of 'hate.' It was a malicious word but focusing onto the main issue, both why Ava knew that, and what to do with Dream.

I could just technically leave him here but that would be heartless and probably a horrible influence on my sister but it's not like I could kidnap and take this guy to my house. I frowned at the thought and the small hand within mine holds on tighter, looking to me with a concerned, sympathetic expression.

I gave myself a compromise; I take off my jacket (varsity if you have to know), layering it on top of his, noticing his pale, sickly skin in the moonlight.

Our house was maybe 5 minutes away if jogging, 3 if we were running (at a pace that Ava could catch up), the shortest time I'd be able to get Ava home and come back would be at the minimum 6 minutes.

I crouched down to eye level to Ava, excitement and energy practically radiating off of her, her previous pity gone without a trace.

"Let's race."

So we raced back. She had definitely gotten quicker than the last time and had a lot of energy considering she'd just come back from the doctors. We arrived shortly in a few minutes, the lights are (obviously) out and as I fumbled around for my keys in my trouser pocket, Ava looked up to me, brimming with curiosity.

"Do you platonically like him? As a friend I mean."

Of course 'him' was directed at Dream but where on the earth had she learnt the word platonic? She was still fairly young and I don't think they taught vocabulary like that at her age. Does she know what platonic means?

"Uh yeah I guess. I don't hate him?"

She gave me a mischievous smile before dashing in, as soon as I managed to open the door. She gave me a wave as she climbed up the stairs, probably into her room.

"Go grab something if you're hungry and don't let strangers in!" I shouted, hopefully loud enough as I closed the door, locking it as I did so.

Then I realised something pretty important, social anxiety still exists. Wouldn't it be weird if he woke up or something?

I'm reminded of Ava and her constant bravery.

The wind in my hair feels nice.

[1170 words]