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Dream is a god.
He knows this, but the others don't, so to prove it, he makes a point out of his favorite victim.
Yet, when he revives Tommy, something's amiss.
For one, he's quiet. Cold silence freezes the room, warmed only by the gentle bubbling of hot magma. Dream's used to the hush of his cell, but he knows Tommy isn't.
Tommy doesn't say a word.
For two, Tommy only sleeps when Dream's sleeping, too. At least, that's the conclusion Dream's reached, because Dream hasn't caught Tommy asleep. Dream hasn't even caught Tommy close to sleeping, hasn't spotted telltale signs of exhaustion, hasn't seen tired blinks or poorly hidden yawns. When Dream goes to sleep, Tommy's wide awake, and when Dream wakes up, Tommy's the same way.
Tommy doesn't seem to sleep a lot anymore.
For three, the time that Dream spends awake with Tommy, is would be unsettling, if Dream wasn't as untouchable as he is. Dream had been locked in a staring contest for the first few hours post Tommy's revival, when Dream was still getting used to the absence of curses and yells that typically poured from Tommy's mouth like water from a faucet. Dream had gotten bored of it quickly, but Tommy hadn't, and still didn't, keeping his eyes trained on Dream at all times.
Whenever he'd stare back, Dream notices a glint in Tommy's eyes, a certain look in the dark shade of blue. Dream can't pinpoint what it means, can't decide what Tommy's thinking, and it's frustrating, irritating in a way that Dream hasn't experienced in a while, a loss of control that he wouldn't ever have expected to lose. The normal Tommyinnit is like an open book, every thought he'd ever had reflecting onto his eyes and every feeling he'd ever experienced twisting his expression, all for Dream to look at and pick apart.
But this is not the normal Tommyinnit, Dream's beginning to realize, and he's not quite sure what happened. He'd asked Tommy about death, about what he'd witnessed when looking into the beyond, wondering what it was that he'd seen that had changed his behavior so much.
But Tommy hadn't answered, and Dream had figured, then, that he eventually would, but the seconds are ticking by and turning into minutes and then into hours and Dream's not so sure of that anymore.
There's something in Tommy's eyes that Dream doesn't like.
Eventually, Tommy starts talking again.
It's as annoying as Dream remembers, but it's nothing he can't handle. Sure, his temper's rising a little, but he can keep calm.
"Are you lonely, Dream?
I bet you are."
"Did all of your friends abandon you?
Did you even have friends in the first place?"
"Nobody even talks about you anymore, Dream.
Your name is like a curse to them.
Not even George or Sapnap talk about you.
They've moved on from you.”
He can't.
He can't keep calm.
One second, he's leaning against the obsidian wall opposite of Tommy. The next, he's sprung forward, hands reached out to grab at Tommy's neck and-
Searing pain tears through his throat.
Tommy's grinning at him, gruesome red staining his teeth.
Dream stumbles to the floor, pain pulsating slowly from his throat, obsidian unforgivingly hard and cold as he slumps over. He can feel warm blood spilling down his neck and soaking into his orange prison uniform.
Through his hazy vision, he can see Tommy crouching beside him, the same grin painted over his face.
Tommy opens his jaws and bites.
A strangled shriek tears from his lungs, hands reaching up to push Tommy's face away. But he's too weak, and Tommy's undeterred, horrific chewing noises poisoning the air, making Dream's head spin with nausea and panic.
He's eating me.
He screams himself hoarse at the realization.
Death's mercy comes late.
When Dream returns, all he can think about is the feeling of Tommy's sharp too sharp, toosharptoosharp teeth impaling his neck, the feeling of the flesh from his throat ripping apart when Tommy took bites out of him.
It's not happening, not right now, it's not repeating, it's not, yet Dream can still feel the phantom pains of white fangs tearing into him, can still feel the pure and electric horror that sings in his blood.
He ate me.
It's a horrible, mind-numbingly appalling thing to think. But it's what happened, it's what happened, Tommy ate him, ate him alive-
And Dream is hyperventilating, vision blurring with tears, but he can still see Tommy through the veil of them, still as a statue but with pointed sapphires for eyes, staring.
Dream thought he was a god.