BLIND | DreamSMP

XXVIII - Perpetual Night

Dream had spent nearly a week looking for Tommy.

First he had combed through the forest surrounding the campsite, scouring the dense landscape until he happened upon that childish bouquet of flowers. When he returned the next day, this time with a tracking dog and a few ripped pieces of Tommy's clothing, he was surprised to discover that the hound led him straight into the cold hills, following the boy's scent with its large black nose buried in the snow. The trail faded a mile or so in, but Dream was already sure he knew where Tommy was. He should've guessed earlier; of course the kid would've gone to Techno for help. 

Sure enough, when he made a stealthy visit to the cottage that evening, he could see small footprints surrounding the house and hear Tommy's whining pitch as he complained to Phil and Techno about a card game they were playing. 

It was tantalizing, being so mouthwateringly close to what he wanted, what he needed for his plan to succeed. Watching the dark shapes move behind the gauzy curtains, he had an urge to wait until they fell asleep and snatch the boy away then. 

But Dream would need much more tact than that when his target was guarded by a warrior with skills that trumped his own tenfold. No, he'd have to be clever if he was to triumph. 

Instead he waited and he listened, and very soon an opportunity arose.

----------

Quackity had a problem. 

It was about five-foot-six and blonde, and was currently causing quite a bit of logistical trouble when it came to the whole business of executing a federal criminal, because what on earth was Quackity going to do with him after Techno was dead? The boy could live with his father, sure, but the man was also in trouble with the government, and rumor had it that he would be exiled shortly after the execution. It would be so much easier to just give Tommy to Dream, let the whole affair be done with.

The door to Quackity's office was slightly ajar, opening with a creak that made the man look up from behind the large oak desk at which he sat. Dream recognized it as previously belonging to Schlatt, but instead of being littered with stray papers and empty bottles, it was now bare, a black and gold fountain pen that Quackity tapped erratically against the stained wood the only sign that someone inhabited the drear room.

"What do you want?" Quackity said as he reclined in his chair. 

Dream supposed it made him feel powerful to be behind that desk. There was something about offices with bookshelves that had never been touched and furniture with the visage of a corpse that made people feel big. Strong. Untouchable. He wanted to shatter that image for Quackity, show him just how weak and pathetic he was compared to Dream, bring him to his knees and make him grovel; but that could come later.

"I heard you got your hands on Techno. Impressive."

Quackity puffed his chest, smirking in a self-satisfied way that made him grind his teeth.

"You heard right. What about it?"

"Techno wasn't the only person you captured."

There was a pause.

"You mean Tommy?"

"Yes."

Quackity twirled the pen in his fingers.

"Let me guess. You want me to hand him over to you?"

Dream didn't respond. The question might as well have been rhetorical for how obvious the answer was.