The first thing Dream saw when he opened his eyes was grey. The second thing he realised was that the gray was a tile ceiling and light was coming from somewhere out of his field of vision, dotted with black and blurry. The third was that his head was killing him and barely any thought could form due to the insistence of the headache. He could vaguely sense that he wasn't alone in the... room, he was in a room. Turning his head to the side, careful not to bump his curled horn on the soft bef he was lying on, he spied a white folding divider. The light he had noticed earlier was coming from somewhere beyond it.

Wait... He was in a bed... The material beneath his back was soft like a mattress, and when he spread his fingers, he fisted thin, cold fabric. The air smelled like vinegar and alcohol; vaguely like vodka. He could recognise that smell anywhere, though there was a tinge of metal mixed with it.

The young man's eyes fluttered, clearing the blur and washing away the black stains. The grey tiles of the ceiling had a pattern of white dots and it looked smooth. The strange smell invaded his senses; it was too familiar. It was blood. Why was there blood? They- They had escaped. There was no way they were found.

He pulled his body up, wincing as pins and needles teased his stomach. He looked around but he had moved so fast that his vision swam, his ears rang and he keeled over. Something- Someone caught him by the shoulder, just in time to save him from an ugly fall to the floor. His hands immediately grasped onto the person, clawing and pushing, trying to get away from the complete stranger; the threat.

"Woah, the'a!" came a surprised, feminine voice and the grip on his shoulder became firmer as the woman tried to steady him. "You're a'right, luv. No one is goin' to hurt you..."

A windchime of crystals rang. A calm river washed over him. He felt like he was on the highest of mountains, in the most serene of sceneries, in the most peaceful world. Everything was right for a few seconds. His arms dropped, dragging on a white coat before hitting the soft bedding. A hand carded through his hair gently as if he were made of glass.

"There you go. See? There is nothin' bad around."

When he found the courage to look- to see the face of the woman who was treating him like a fragile leaf, the hand capped his cheek, and then moved to his forehead. The most pleasant of faces looked at him with care, a soft smile reassured him of those spoken words promising safety. Big, round eyes of rich chocolate were attentive and warm, framed by hair of treebark and a halo of pink and purple flowers crowned her head.

"Hm... You have a bit o' a fever, so you'll stay in bed fo' anotha day. It's a good thing that you woke up, though! You need to get some food in that belly o' yours." she said as she guided him to rest on the bed once more. His back hit the mattress and he felt like it swallowed him whole. After days of running and sleeping on trash bags and hard concrete with his little brother under his arm, that mattress was heaven.

"...Where am I?" he asked and immediately cringed at how his voice sounded from disuse. His throat felt dry. "Who are you?"

The woman folded the divider, allowing the light from beyond to blind him. A whole room was hidden behind it, consisting of another bed, a countertop and a fridge. It looked like a kitchen stripped of its furniture. Dream noted the plastic white coat she wore and deduced she was a doctor. "You are in the clinic of the Sewer Cats and I'm the heala' o' the shelter. My name is Stress Monster but you can call me Stress."

"So you're a doctor?"

The woman shrugged with a bright laugh of rainbows.

"I'm no doctor but I know how to nurse you back to health!" she said, retreating towards the counter and retrieving a glass. She opened the fridge and picked up a bottle of water and poured some into the glass. "We're goin' to take advantage of you bein' awake and get some food in you. You're all skin 'n' bones!"

Dream looked to the side, abashed. Heat rised the his cheeks, though he blamed it on the fever. His eyes fell on the other bed, which was made and unoccupied.

"Where is Tubbo?"

Stress returned to his bedside, pulling a stool from below the bed frame and setting the glass of water on it. "Oh, that's your brother, yeah?" She asked as she grabbed him with gentle hands and adjusted the pillows to support his back so he could sit upright. Then, she passed him the glass and made sure it wouldn't drop from his hands.

"Yeah, where is he?" he persisted, holding the glass in his hands, which he realised were covered in clean bandages. His torso, too, was covered in clean gauze and his hoodie was missing.

"He only had a few ripped stitches and bruises, so I patched 'im up and sent 'im on his way. He should be with Tommy right now, that human kid who brought you 'ere."

"That's... That's good." he muttered and finally raised the glass to his chapped lips and drank like a man in a desert.

"I'll get you somethin' to eat and then you can sleep, alright?"

Dream barely heard her, too busy savoring the last drops of water at the bottom. Stress refilled the glass after giving him a warm bowl of soup. It tasted bland but he scarfed it down all the same. He was asleep for two days, Stress told him. She chatted with him whilst he ate as there were no patients in the makeshift clinic that needed her attention. The emptied bowl was refilled too, though Dream was reluctant in taking it.

"You'll need the energy to heal those bullet 'oles." she assured him. Dream took the spoon in hand and showed the soup no mercy.

Within two days, Tommy had made friends with everyone. It wasn't easy, and it certainly felt weird at first, but with the school indirectly forcing contact and being aqcauintances with Tubbo made things flow naturally. A friend circle formed, though Tommy found himself hanging out with Tubbo the most. He didn't think they'd click but fate had its way to make the impossible possible.

An example of that would be the relationship between Cleo and Tubbo. It turned out that Cleo had taught at his school for a few years before she quit for unknown reasons.

"We heard rumours that she became a director at "Zombie Inc."."

"You mean that big R&D organisation that designs prosthetics for crippled hybrids?"

Zombie Inc was founded recently with the goal to help those who were crippled by their own traits. Like Zombies, whose limbs were prone to rotting completely, or for Creepers, who accidentally blew themselves up in a moment of terror. Their cause was good and Tommy could say that he felt more respect for the aforementioned Zombie ex-teacher, then director.

"Yup!"

"That's so cool, man! I've seen some people with those custom-made, functional arms- they look like really cool cyborgs!"

"I know right?! And it's made with redstone of all things! It must be so tedious to compact the dust into such a small space like an arm or an eye or an ear..."

Tommy blinked, brain blank as Tubbo rambled on and on about redstone machinery and said words that Tommy didn't know the meaning of.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Big T, but sure."

"Miss Cleo taught us how to make nukes too."

Tommy blinked again, though that time it was out of pure surprise.

"Your teacher taught you what."

Tubbo waved him off, like that wasn't the most insane thing he'd done.

"I almost got expelled because I actually made one and brought it to 'show 'n' tell. Thankfully, my dad pulled some strings and..."

"Tommy! Tubbo!"

The both stopped dead in their tracks when their names were called. Ren was running towards them, waving his hand to get their attention. Tommy grew curious and slightly nervous. The last time Ren had come for him, he had to retell his story to a group of adults. Said adults were nothing short of supportive and nice to him through the whole thing, and they tried to not make it seem more of an interrogation than it already did.

They were worried about their friend, of course, they had to ask. Grian was one of the founders, the first one from what Scar later told him. He was the one to recruit the rest and who led the residents into stealing whole planes from the air to shove into a sewage pipe. And then he was nowhere to be found. Apparently, he had told no one about his family but everyone had to come from somewhere, as much as some like Grian would love to hide it.

So, Tommy had told them about Phil and Techno and Wil. He'd told them that his brothers were out of the city but on that terrible day when the hybrid purge had begun, he had been flying with Grian and therefore he couldn't know whether his father was dead or alive, looking for him after the smoke had cleared.

What could Ren possibly want now? Tommy didn't know.

"Hi, Ren!" Tubbo greeted the man with a big smile and a handshake. The man's tail swished happily as he grinned, showing off his sharp fangs. They seemed to be on friendly terms -not that Tommy wasn't on friendly terms with the man! He liked Ren but the guy was usually on the surface running errands and rescuing hybrids from the street to talk much.

"What's up, man?" Tommy said, putting his hands in his pockets.

"How are you boys doin'? Have you settled in?" the man asked, reaching out and ruffling both of the boys' hair. Tommy almost screeched as he tried to get out of range and Tubbo almost headbutted him. Ren laughed goodnaturedly. "I'll take that as a yes! Anyway, I came here to tell Tubbo something."

"What is it?" Tubbo asked as he fixed his hair. Tommy was doing the same, when his friend gasped and his hands flew outwards and Tommy him in the stomach. The wind was knocked out of him and he doubled over, though it wasn't as bad of a hit as he made it look. Ren, the poor guy, tried to approach him out of concern but Tubbo wouldn't let him.

"Is it about Dream? Tell me!"

Glancing at Tommy's melodrama one last time, Ren turned his attention to the worried lamb in front of him. In retaliation, Tommy theatrically fell to his side but then he remembered that tetanus existed and he swiftly picked himself up.

"Your brother woke up a few hours ago." the man confirmed Tubbo's suspicions. "Stress is taking care of him but-"

"Why is he stressed?" Tommy questioned.

The two looked at him owlishly. Ren barked a laugh. "Stress is the name of our healer, Toms!"

"Oh." Tommy managed. And then he laughed at how surreal that name was.

"Anyway, Dream is up to have visitors so if you'd like to see hi-"

Ren couldn't finish his sentence before Tubbo was running for one of the stolen building that housed the clinic.