Chapter Text
It’s hard for Dream to imagine what a place that both is and isn’t his own server could be like. Weirder still to imagine being in the same physical space as the people he's thus far only talked to over coms. It may have only been two weeks since Day and Theo--his dad and brother, now--left his own world, but it feels like an eternity has passed.
He had spent the last few days being such an anxious wreck that George, Sapnap, Bad, and Ant had alternated between finding ways to distract him (to various degrees of success) and repeating reassurances that it seemed like Day and Theo did genuinely enjoy the three extra days they'd spent with him before they went back.
"But what if they changed their minds--what if the rest of them hate me, what if--" his catastrophizing would be cut off by one of his friends telling him that it was their loss, then.
A part of him kept expecting it to be canceled or pushed back, kept expecting some sort of mean remark or something from one of his new brothers. The closest had been light teasing about how Atlas wasn't the youngest now.
Day is the only one to come to get him, which he was sure was some sort of sign .
At least, until Day sees his expression and says, "There's not much point us both coming over here if we're going right back. Theo argued over being the one to come get you, actually. I had to remind him he has all the social grace of a wild dog and pull the dad card. He was still visibly sulking about it when I left." Dream does feel a little better, even if he sort of doubts that. Day shrugs like he can sense his doubts. "You'll see. They’re all very excited, just...be aware they're chaotic." Then Day lifts a hand in greeting towards the small cluster of friends that have come to see Dream off.
"Remind him that if it’s too much, he can tell me. I can shoo the others away, he can come back, or we can find another solution for what he wants. I'll keep an eye on it from my end, but my other sons are four feral little demons who might stumble into something that gets under his skin. I know what Dreams are like, how we're convinced we need to suffer in silence." Dream startles a little at the wording, and remembers all over again that Day has been through a lot of the same things he has. That, and tries not to show how much the gentle reminder that Dream is already considered one of his sons soothes his frazzled nerves.
Sapnap gives Dream an 'I told you you were being an idiot' look, which just makes him roll his eyes a little. "We will," the blaze hybrid says, "just remember you can’t have him forever!” Day laughs, guessing his underlying concerns easily enough. “Of course not. All of you are his friends and he cares about you. Hell, depending on how this one goes, we can arrange for a longer trip for all of you to come over with him.” He can see their surprise at that and smiles again. "You're his family by choice. I'd be a fool to not try and make all of you happy, too. Or, worse, try to cut you out of his life."
Then he looks down at Dream, and tilts his head towards the portal. “You have to go through first. It doesn’t feel any different from a nether portal.”
Dream takes a deep breath and with one last glance at his friends–all of whom are making various ‘get going already’ gestures at him–he steps into the silvery magic.
His anxiety spikes as he blinks his eyes open to the sight of four familiar-but-not faces.
He squeaks softly in alarm as he feels someone pop up behind him; he whirls just in time to see Day appear and the portal silently close after him. Day smiles reassuringly at him, and then he’s being pulled into a hug by Theo. “The others n’ I,” he says grandly, “had to do rock-paper-scissors over who you’re staying with.” “And you cheated ,” Atlas protests, shooting his eldest brother a glare. “Nah,” Theo tells him, “you just can’t read my tells. Also you’re the worst option, ‘cause you do work at bullshit hours–” “Oh please, like Dee is any better!” Atlas’ further objection is met by said brother narrowing his eyes at him and saying, “My forge isn’t close enough to fucking hear from the bedrooms, Atlas , unlike someone who used to keep everyone up–”
“None of you would have won that,” Day tells them, cutting into the argument. “It was always going to be with me. First of all, neither of the other houses have enough room. Second of all, you’re all unhinged enough that I debated kicking Theo out for the week–” there’s a squawk of offense from the eldest and several loud laughs of derision from the others, “--but decided he gets to prove he won’t do something too stupid first. You also all forgot to actually greet him, which really only proves my point.”
The way they all turn sheepish is almost funny, actually. “Sorry,” Orph says, and then Dream is being hugged by first him, then Dee, then Atlas. Orph grins at him. “It’s nice to meet you in person. We’ve got things planned.” “ Sibling acceptance rituals ,” Atlas agrees gravely, and Dream is sort of unsure how seriously that should be taken until Day just sighs.
“Try not to overwhelm him with–so, this might be a good time to admit that we have a lot of…things we do. Nothing bad, just sort of…bonding? We started doing them one at a time, and they’ve piled up. You get to speedrun them, which might be a bit…much,” he says, and Dream is suddenly a lot more concerned about what exactly that means.
Day gestures at his braids. “Like these–everyone does one in everyone else’s hair. It's one of the ways we display our ties to each other. Yours isn’t long enough to do big ones, but we can do small ones. Then there’s things like jewelry and stones–” “I have to at least start your armor and weapons,” Dee interrupts, making Dream raise a hand slightly. “Uh. I have…those already…?”
He’s pretty sure he messed up somehow by the look in Dee’s eye and the way he opens his mouth, but Day reaches over to bap his head. “No unhinged rants. Keep it helpful.” Dee glares at him, but reluctantly rewords himself. “...Crafted armor and weapons are shit . The equipment I make is tailored to suit the unique needs of each person. For instance, my armor is very lightweight because I’m focused on speed and movement. Too much bulk gets in the way of me being an effective fighter. Meanwhile, Theo uses pretty heavy duty stuff because when he fights, he’s in the thick of things. Crafted armor doesn’t really take things like that into account–it’s just a flat style across the board. Weapons are better, sure, but still not great . They should be weighted, balanced, and shaped on an individual basis to cater to different fighting styles. It’s easier to show than explain–Attie, Theo; swords?”
They both do so, and Dream can’t help but notice that they’re a lot nicer than he expected. That, and clearly built for different fighting styles. “You made these?” Dream’s eyes are wide, especially as Theo hands him the weapon. He takes it and feels the difference in weight from the swords he's familiar with immediately. “Yeah,” Dee tells him, wings ruffling proudly. “And Attie did the ornamental bits. He’s better with creative stuff like that. I do better with technical things. I can forge armor or build something to automatically do farming shit, but ask me to make something that looks nice and I'll just tell you to fuck off."
Dream is still marveling over the sword, tracing the details with a single finger. He doesn't think he's even seen anything as finely made as this before, let alone held it.
He hands the sword back to Theo, who grins at him. "Dee might be an asshole sometimes, but damn if he isn’t a fuckin’ master at forging shit. Orph can carve bows n’ crossbows--" "And instruments," said brother adds just a touch haughtily. "--Yeah, those too. Attie does jewelry, Dad does...Dad has a lot of shit he fuckin does. Cooking s' the biggest one we all benefit from, then there's his shit with magic n’ enchanting, knitting, crochet, gardening, translating books for funsies...list goes on n fuckin on."
Day grins a little at his eldest. "And you , Theo, can...hmm. Gosh, your brothers all have such creative, productive hobbies, and you…" Theo glares at him, his sword going back into his inventory. "I fought and won multiple fuckin wars with you, and I fuckin’ save your sorry hide all the time--"
Atlas cuts in. "Theo excels in being a massive headache for everyone around him. It's a real skill and it’s why we have a no murder at the table rule."
There’s a pause as Dream waits for the punchline. When he doesn’t come he says doubtfully, “...That can’t possibly be an actual rule.” The entire family makes various noises of disagreement. “It very much is,” Day tells him, “and it’s very much there because Theo needles his brothers into lunging across the table to stab and/or strangle him. They sometimes instigate it too, but…it’s mostly Theo being a chaotic asshole.”
“I,” Theo says cheerfully and a little smugly, “Like to cause problems on fuckin’ purpose .” “At least you’re aware of it,” Orph mutters, rolling his eyes.
Day’s smile is both exasperated and fond as he cuts off the light bickering before it can progress any further. “I’ll show you the room you’ll be using when you're over here. It’s downstairs with Theo, in the…basement isn’t quite the right word, but close. You’ll see.” They head towards the house that’s easily the largest of the buildings. It’s downright huge , perched on and in the highest hill of the biome. It’s mostly made of oak planks and cobblestone, though not entirely. Massive windows–if they can even be called that, it doesn’t seem like there’s glass in them–show large chunks of the building even as they walk up to it.
Day sees his wide-eyed look and can’t help but grin. “Nice, isn’t it?” “It’s so big ,” Dream breathes, trying to wrap his head around having that much space. “Why don’t you all live there, if it’s so…?”
“Well,” Day starts, glancing back at his kids as they trail along after them, “It’s better for everyone to have their own space. Yes, we love each other, and yes, we enjoy spending time together, but cram us all into too small of a space and we start to get too snappy and mean about petty things. With three houses, I can dedicate mine and Theo’s to being the place we all gather. Theo and I are used to dealing with each other in close quarters over long periods. Even still, I made sure he was on the other end of the house.”
“Uh…because he snores, or…?” Dream’s question is hesitant, unsure if it’s alright for him to ask that sort of thing. “No,” Day says, tone amused, “It’s because he needles his brothers until they try to murder him in his sleep. I can still hear when they do it, but I think my brain has just learned the difference between normal fratricide screaming and there-is-an-active-threat screaming.”
Dream stares at him, brow furrowing. “...Is…that really that common…?” Dee calls over, “Yes! But you’re excluded from stabbing and/or murder attempts. At least…for now. You have to get acclimated to the rest of our bullshit before we toss you into the deep end. Theo, because he’s a fucking asshole, will piss you off enough that you attempt to strangle him eventually. It’s just inevitable!”
Theo elbows his younger brother harshly–or, at least, he tries to. Dee dodges it with surprising ease. “Don’t be fuckin’ ominous about shit like that,” Theo hisses, earning loud laughs from the other winged brothers. “It’s a warning; Theo is just like that . It’s part of who he is,” Orph tells Dream.
Day rolls his eyes at the bickering, but doesn’t intervene. They’re not wrong , is the thing–Theo, for all that he was able to strike terror into the hearts of those who crossed him, was able and very willing to channel his chaos towards tormenting his brothers. Thankfully for Day’s peace of mind, if not his general sanity, his brothers were equally willing to turn their own inherent feral energy back on him. Or each other, as the case sometimes was.
The general attitude that Day had taken towards their anarchy was most generously phrased as ‘some battles aren’t worth fighting’. Less generously it was put as him being the one they had learned that sort of thing from in the first place–or at least how best to direct it into relatively benign mischief.
Better that than explosives; those are better aimed at enemies .
They step into what seems like the bottommost level to the main house, passing through an archway and directly into the house proper.
Dream frowns when he realizes how open it all is. He can look down the hall and see directly out to the deck on the other side. "So...isn’t rain an issue…? Or animals wandering in? Or mobs ?" Dee shakes his head slightly. "There are shutters that get automatically deployed for rain. Everything is lit to hell and back, but I'm working on a system that detects hostile mob noises and closes nearby openings that they could get into. I also have turrets I've been working on for around the edges of the claimed bits, but, well…"
Dee grimaces a bit, which Atlas takes as his cue to chime in. "It keeps spinning wildly while firing all its arrows. It's driving him crazy." There's a beat before he amends, "Well. Crazier ."
The second eldest glares at his formerly youngest brother for just a moment, then looks back over to Dream. "The point is, we've thought about that. It's just that we feel safer like this--harder to be boxed in when there’s a ton of ways to escape."
Dream frowns. "...I thought this server was safe?" Day is quick to reassure him, "It is. No wars, infinite lives, everyone goes to therapy or else . It's...mainly a trauma response and gives us peace of mind. A few of us have been boxed in before and it can...well. You probably have your own trauma with feeling trapped. It's why I decided this floor, the 'basement', was better for you than the top floor; easier to get outside if you start feeling claustrophobic."
He's really not sure what to say to that. It feels weird to have his needs anticipated like that, but a good kind of weird. "...Oh. Thanks, then."
Theo, as though sensing the unsurity, gestures at the archway they're beside. The view of most of the room is blocked off by a wall in the middle of it, though it's open on both sides. There are tons of little trinkets and knick knacks visible even from the hallway. "This one s' my room. It’s very pog. Full tour can come later, though; we should really get you settled first--"
Day cuts him off, eyes narrowing slightly. "Theseus." Theo’s wings ruffle a little and he's not quite meeting his dad’s gaze. "Yup. S' me, Theseus Was-Taken. Vengeance personified, host to the Fates, n' poggest person ever." "...You didn't clean your room, did you."
"Weeeeeeell…" Theo draws the word out, chuckling nervously. "I didn't... not clean it--" " Theo ." Day’s tone is exasperated, and then he sees the slightly guilty looks the rest of them have. “Seriously?! None of you?!”
Atlas argues, “Cleaning our rooms implies it’s a bigger deal than it is. Dream coming over will be normal , actually–” “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t make a good first impression!” Day’s point is immediately refuted by Orpheus with, “It also puts more pressure for it to be something special, so actually this is objectively the right option–” “Very bold words for someone who I can still ground,” Day interrupts.
This is met with a pause and then Orph saying slowly, “...I help run the server, Dad. You can’t just ground me.” “Again; bold words. Care to test that theory?” Day and Orpheus stare at each other for several moments, before Orph visibly wilts and relents. “...No.”
Dream finally cracks, breaking into wheezing laughter that he has to lean against the oak plank wall behind him to keep upright from. “Their faces ,” he manages to gasp out before he dissolves into laughter again.
“You laugh,” Dee warns, though he’s grinning a bit himself, “but you’re a part of this too, now.” The laughter fades a little, though honestly…Dream will take all the threats of grounding in the world if it means having this sense of warmth stay with him.
“Speaking of which,” Theo says, definitely not trying to pivot the conversation, “we have to figure out a nickname for you. Kinda got a few Dreams running around, y’know? Plus they’re oaths we made to each other. A bit dramatic, looking back, but if you boil ‘em fuckin’ down? They mean we’re there for each other, no matter what. Yours’ll probably be closer to an oath to all your loved ones. Would be kinda fucked up if we demand to be the only or even just most important people in your fuckin’ life, yeah?”
The reassurances that they understand and accept that his friends are an important part of his life do a lot to soothe the parts of him that have been gripped by fear that he's just dooming himself to the same kind of pain as before. He could see how different Day and Theo were, though, even from when he first met them. He's also seen the warmth behind the bickering they all do, even over coms. He knows he's sometimes a little irrational--hell, just look at what he had done to end up in the Vault. Yes, it may have been two years since then, but...still. He doesn’t trust himself a lot of the time.
Instead of voicing any of that, though, Dream just perks up at the reminder about names. “The Greek myth names, right? I think I know already. Perseus .” His smile falters at the surprised look they all share. “...Damn, that’s colder than I expected,” the eldest says, and then shrugs a little. “But yeah, sure. S’ your name; as long you’re happy with it.” He pauses at the look on Dream’s face. “...D’you… not know the myth? Where'd you even hear about it, then?”
That…sort of wasn’t a question that Dream had been prepared to answer. “Uh…places, you know how it is!” His laugh sounds nervous even to himself. He really doesn’t want to admit that he’s naming–nicknaming?--himself after the main character of the Percy Jackson series.
…So sue him, he can be a fan of things.
Dream clears his throat and presses on, “So, uh, what’s the myth? Why is it ‘cold’?” Theo, though clearly the least convinced by the redirection, still accepts it with no more than a raise of his eyebrows. He explains, “...Long story short, dude was fuckin’ prophesied to kill his granddad before he was even conceived. Said granddad freaked out n’ banished him n’ his mom when whoops magic god baby happened. Perseus went on to be a hero, n’ then winds up killing his granddad anyway. Sometimes it’s on purpose, usually an accident; retellings fuckin’ differ on that bit.”
Ah, well. That…explains it.
But, well, he’s kind of attached to the name already. And…it’s not like he actually killed his mom–she’s still alive, she’s just banned from his server by the three lives glitch.
So after a moment of consideration, he says slowly, “Yeah, it’s kind of cold, but I…it appeals to me.” There’s a soft huff of laughter as he adds a little bitterly, “I already changed my name once to get away from her, I’m not letting her stop me from picking one that I like.”
Atlas reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder. His smile is kind and terribly understanding . “I get it. My original name… all of our original names–we changed them to cut our ties to Darkza. You have a life in your own server, you have things you like about yourself–we get that. But make this a chance to change. Anything you do want to leave behind–names, habits, your look, hell–even your birthday…? Do it. Leave it in the dust. If it hurts to have it, don’t keep it.”
Dream’s– Perseus' –expression must show how much of a revelation that is, because he’s pulled into a hug by Atlas. It takes only a few seconds before the rest of them join in; Day wraps his wings around them all, and it forms a cocoon of warmth and affection that almost burns with how unfamiliar it is.
It’s not that he’s not used to hugs, even group ones. His friends like to show they care with hugs and shoves and arms slung over shoulders; it’s entirely normal. It’s more that he’s being embraced by people who understand on a level that none of his friends do. It’s that he’s being accepted and told that he doesn’t have to hold on to things that hurt. The idea that the things that he’s always considered as just part of who is can be left behind is almost like an epiphany .
The wings encasing them pull away after a few moments, letting Perseus see the slightly sad smile Day has. His tone is gentle as he says, “Whatever you want to keep or discard, we’ll support that. Tell us if we mess up, okay? We’re not perfect–we can’t be perfect. We’ll ask the same of you. It’s okay if you stumble or slip up. Just try your best.”
It’s all he can do to nod a few times, because he can barely breathe around the lump in his throat. The rest of the family pulls away to give him some space, though Dee immediately puts an arm over his shoulder. The unspoken reminder that he’s there–that they all are–makes him smile.
“Yeah. I think…I think I want to leave a lot of it behind. As much of the…links to her as I can get away with. The first time I changed out of fear. I want to do it for myself this time,” Perseus tells the rest of them. Theo grins widely at him and asks, “So, baby brother…how do you feel about Perce as your nickname?”
It feels just right, like something that was made for him.
Perce grins back at him. “Yeah. I like that–I like that a lot.”