"U/n, you have to move, please," Tommy begged, nudging me lightly. I hadn't moved from where I had collapsed three hours ago. I stared through the glass below me with a blank expression. Wilbur had disappeared quite a while ago, going to who knows where.

I glanced at him and sighed softly, wiping at my dried tears. "Tommy..." I started, "What happened?"

Tommy pursed his lip, a pained look in his eyes.

"I-," he croaked out, "I was angry, and I did a stupid thing. I brought Ghostbur to the prison as bait to get to Dream. We got to him, but I messed up. Sam stopped us and I was brought back.

But Ghostbur was trapped on the other side, with Dream. I argued with Sam to get him back over, but he wouldn't. It got worse, and Sam lowered the lava. He said that if he ever caught me near the prison he would murder me." Tommy said, and he was almost crying.

I set my hands on his shoulders, "Tommy, Tommy stop." I said, shaking him slightly, and he looked up at me, "You're ok now, you're here, not in the prison. You're safe."

Tommy looked confused, "Why aren't you mad at me? I'm the reason Ghostbur is gone, the reason your husband is gone!" he exclaimed, and I just looked at him.

"Tommy," I sighed, "I'm upset right now, of course, I am. I really cared for Ghostbur. But I can wait to grieve, just a little longer. Right now, I have to take care of what's in front of me. Which is you." I said, and Tommy looked shocked.

Then, slowly, but surely, his eyes filled with tears. He hiccuped and reached his arms out. I held him gently as he cried, he was shaking violently. But I stayed. Tommy started talking about his trauma, telling me everything.

I pursed my lip, why had this all happened to him? Wars, being killed, exile, all of it. It was ridiculous. It had all started because one man with an ego the size of a country couldn't let go.

Dream.

Tommy, Tubbo, Purpled, Ranboo, they were all children. But every day, they would have to be on their guards in case something happened to them. Just so they wouldn't be assassinated by someone who held a grudge.

They were all good kids, wonderful even. That included Tommy.

Tommy had stayed through my breakdown, I could stay for his.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pulling away, wiping the tears out of his eyes. I helped him stand up, "You have nothing to apologize for." I said, looking away for a second, glancing at a building that stood in the distance. The black stone and obsidian walls stood out against the blue sky.

"It's not your fault."

I clenched my fists on the tabletop, furrowing my brows. "Secret," I said, and the Enderman appeared by my side. They made a soft chirping noise and handed me a grass block.

Taking it, I placed it into my Enderchest, along with the other blocks Endermen had gifted me. I didn't have to heart to get rid of any. The blocks obviously meant something to them. A gift from an Enderman wasn't meant to be taken lightly.

Getting a gift from an Enderman was basically them giving you their undivided loyalty. A pact that couldn't be broken. I myself had never given anyone a block with that intent. But that didn't mean I never would.

In other words, my Enderchest was filled with sand, grass, and stone blocks. Along with some other sentimental objects. Including the bracelet Tommy had gifted me, and a stick from Michael.

Looking down at my hand, I bit the inside of my cheek. My ring glinted on my finger, and Ghostbur's ring felt warm against my skin. I couldn't bear to take either of them off.

Secret blinked slowly, cooing softly. I shook myself out of my stupor and looked at them. "Do you know where I want to go?" I asked, and Secret nodded, reaching out with a long hand. Whispering to myself, I took their hand.

"Sam's gonna be pissed if he finds me."

Taking hold of Secret's hand, I felt the cold splash of teleportation. Imagine it as having a bucket of cold water poured on you. It's like that, but it only lasts a second.

My feet touched down on hard obsidian, and I looked around me. A chest, a lecturn with a book sitting on it, and a cauldron with water in it. The wall to my left was sealed off by a wall of lava, and in front of me writing at the lecturn, oblivious to my presence, was Dream.

His back was to me, but I could still see a few things. The green hoodie he wore was torn in several places, and his leg bounced as he scribbled in a book with a quill.

He didn't make any acknowledge, or notice, my existence until Secret chirped. Dream's form instantly tensed, one hand going to his face, and his other hand subconsciously went to his hip, usually where a sword would be.

But, unfortunately for him, he didn't have one. And, unfortunately for him, again, I did. Of course, not that he could see it. But I did have one.

Then he turned around.

The mask on his face was askew, probably from being pulled down hastily. It wasn't on correctly, revealing the bottom half of his face. His mouth was fixed in a confused frown, freckles speckled over his nose. Dream noticed my staring and quickly fixed his mask.

"What do you want?" He asked, "Who are you?"

I laughed softly, reaching for the back of my head. My fingers quickly undid the clasp keeping my mask to my head. As the clips came undone, I slid it away from my face. Popping my jaw, I sighed in relief.

"Finally. As much as I love that thing, it feels good to get if off. And the name's U/n, by the way," I said, and Dream's posture changed.

He became more rigid.

And for good reason. Usually, when someone who constantly wore a mask revealed their face to you, it was because of one of two things.

1. They trusted you.

And 2... You weren't going to live to tell anyone.

"Oh please," I said, brushing my hair out of my eyes, "I'm not going to hurt you. Unless you try to hurt me or course. I'm here to talk."

Dream didn't stop tensing up, and I sighed.

"Or if you prefer...

We could make a deal..."