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dtblrsecretsanta · 1 month ago

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Prove to You

(ao3)

@mona-dreams, happy Secret Santa!

Usually, Sapnap found Dream’s voice comforting. Sapnap loved the cadence of when Dream began to tell a joke, only to have the pitch rise along with a wheeze, unable to finish because he found himself so funny. He loved when Dream would whisper on voice call, his voice husky and just the right pitch so that it lulled Sapnap into a drowsiness. He loved when Dream would speak so quickly and so excitedly that Sapnap couldn’t even understand the words spilling from his lips but knew that he cared about that jumble of words all the same. Sapnap loved everything about his best friend’s voice because it reminded him of home, and that feeling was safe and secure.

But the voice Dream was using right now?

No, Sapnap did not love this voice.

“Yeah, man,” Dream said, sounding tired; the kind of tired that spoke of hard times, of restless nights, and endless harassment. There was a tinge of nervousness, as well. Sapnap could already see Dream chewing on his bottom lip, ruining the skin in his anxiety. “I’m getting swatted, like, every day. I know the SWAT team by their names, now. And I’m just scared that … I don’t know. I’ve already been doxed – and then that old photo leaked … it’s all so much.”

“That sucks, man,” is all Sapnap can think to say. “Isn’t there anything you can do to stop it? Like, one person can only be swatted so many times, right? They must realise you’re not actually a threat by now.”

“The FBI have been messaging me, but they told me that they had to investigate every single tip they get, no matter if it’s the same person, or if they suspect it’s a prank call,” Dream explained. His voice was shaky. “I’ve started to have anxiety attacks because of them. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I have to answer the door to another SWAT team tomorrow.”

“What if …” Sapnap said, an idea beginning in his head, like the whisps of his love for his best friend were becoming tangible, “… what if you didn’t have to answer the door?”

It wasn’t feasible to travel to Florida overnight, no matter how much Sapnap wanted to. For one thing, Sapnap would be driving instead of flying. The drive was over thirteen hours – and that was only if Sapnap drove non-stop, without breaks in-between for naps. He would also need to take his car in for a check-up to make sure it was in its best shape before undertaking such a long road trip. And another thing was that Sapnap needed time to pack and ship his things over to Dream’s home. That wasn’t mentioning that Sapnap needed to tell his family about his plans. And when he did, his mother kicked up a big fuss about him staying for Christmas before leaving.

So, Sapnap stayed in Texas for the holidays. Christmas went by in a blur, each day passing with the kind of franticness that could only come from one wanting something so badly that they envisioned it every day, wishing for the time it would finally come true.

Sapnap spent half his time with his family, eating dinner and exchanging gifts with cousins he hadn’t seen in years. He helped his mother in the kitchen, set the table, and chowed down on Christmas staples, including turkey with cranberry sauce straight from the can, stuffing made with Wonder Bread, and gravy from a powder packet. Even despite this, Sapnap wouldn’t slander his mother’s cooking because the warm atmosphere and jolly tones more than made up for it.

The other half of his time was spent on voice call with his best friend. Dream was still tired from the swatting and investigations, but spending time with his family helped him get through the holidays. Over the last few years, he had mended his relationship with his siblings and father, and he recounted his time spent with family to Sapnap over the call.

But – and this was the best thing – Dream was also excited.

Since his YouTube channel had blown up in terms of increasing followers, and since he’d been catching flack for drama and discourse, Dream had … not exactly “lost his spark,” but had withdrawn within himself. Sapnap found that Dream had moments of apathy, where he lost his motivation, and where he was quiet. He didn’t talk as excitedly about ideas. He spent more and more time alone in his home, without social interaction – unless you counted the hours and hours of voice calls and phone calls between Dream, George, and Sapnap (but even that couldn’t replace the feeling of going outside, enjoying the fresh air, and experiencing real, raw human interaction).

Except, now, Dream had gone a whole week without a moment of that depression seeping into his life. He always greeted Sapnap like an excited puppy on the phone, asking about his progress with packing; whether his car was ready from the shop yet; what kinds of snack he wanted stocked before coming to Florida; what he wanted his room to look like.

Sapnap hadn’t seen this excited, happy Dream in a long time.

“Just one more day,” is what he said. “I’ll be there for New Years.”

And Dream made a little happy sound that made Sapnap’s heart clench.

Sapnap left at five in the morning on the thirty-first. He wanted to make the drive in one go, but Dream dissuaded him from doing that. Instead, Sapnap took it in five hours intervals, with stops at motels and in Walmart parking lots for naps and food breaks. He took the interstate highway, stopped for gas several times, and eventually made his way into a neighbourhood in the boondocks. It was a well-paved road, but the houses were spaced apart, and there were many trees isolating and hiding said houses from the road. Dream’s house was far from the road and the only reason Sapnap found it was because of the light that was lit at the end of the driveway. Even in the dark of the night, with the little bit of light, Sapnap could see the green of the house from his car. It was two-stories, with a slanted roof and arch over the driveway, with a cast iron gate partitioning the driveway from the garage. Trees and bushes lined the driveway, looking wild instead of carefully maintained.

Dream, George, and Sapnap had joined a voice call in the beginning, to give Sapnap someone to talk to during the long ride. Ten hours in, when Sapnap took his first nap, George had disconnected. With the time zone differences, and George’s wonky sleep schedule, it wasn’t surprising that he decided to leave the call half-way through the trip. But Dream stayed on call, even during Sapnap’s six-hour nap (could it really be called a nap, after six hours?) They had been on plenty of voice calls while sleeping before, so Sapnap wasn’t bothered. In fact, he found it comforting, having his friend by his side, even in sleep.

When Sapnap hit the road again, they stayed connected, even when Dream eventually had to give into his own need for sleep.

“You better wake me up when you get here,” is what Dream had said, voice sleepy but insistent. “I’m serious, Pandas. I don’t want you driving up to my house and then waiting however many hours just for me to wake up. Don’t be polite. I want to hug you as soon as you arrive.”

Hearing Dream use Sapnap’s childhood nickname made his heart warm.

It also told Sapnap just how tired Dream was, to be stumbling over his words and using old nicknames.

“I will,” he had promised. Then, fondly – voice cracking with the warmth, eyes tight from tiredness, and hands gripping the steering wheel as he navigated the road – he said, “Now go to sleep, you idiot.”

“You have to promise,” Dream whined. “Promise me you’ll hug me.”

“I promise,” Sapnap had said.

It was now the middle of the night, his phone showing that it was almost January first. Just a few more minutes, and the clock would strike midnight.

So, Sapnap drove up to the gate, put his car in park, and stepped out. He didn’t even bother grabbing his bags from the trunk. Sapnap walked right up to the front door and banged on the wood. Holding his phone in one hand, still on call with Dream, he spoke into the speaker: “Dream,” he said, like he would during a manhunt, teasing. “Dreamie, wake up! I’m finally home!”

“Mmhuh?” Dream’s voice crackled through the speaker, deep like it always was when he just woke up. Sapnap heard some rustling, which was probably Dream rolling over in bed. “Wassit?”

“Dream,” Sapnap said. “I’m here.”

And suddenly Dream was wide awake, gasping. Dream said, voice edging into excitedness, “seriously? You’re not joking?”

“No joke,” Sapnap said, serious.

Sapnap heard a loud thud of feet hitting the ground, the scuffle of socks on hardwood floors, and then suddenly the door in front of him was opening. And in front of him was his best friend and brother. The sight wasn’t anything new. Sapnap had seen Dream’s face before. They’d known each other for almost a decade; of course, Sapnap had seen his face. He’d seen Dream grow up through blurry photos taken by first generation touch-screen iPods, and through bad quality Skype calls. He had seen Dream’s hair darken from a wheat blond to copper; he’d watched his best friend’s weight loss journey; and he’d seen what it looked like when Dream’s heart was broken by his first girlfriend.

But seeing the man in front of him, in-person, for the first time? It was a religious experience.

Sapnap knew Dream was tall, but actually standing next to him showed just how big their size difference was. Sapnap’s head just barely reached over Dream’s jaw. Dream had to look down at him, his chartreuse eyes wide and bright. His hair was boy-band long, reaching past his ears in little copper curls that framed a pale face. There was just the hint of a five o’clock shadow on his jaw, and there were faint freckles smattered across his cheeks.

Dream’s lips stretched into a wide smile, and he disconnected from the call, phone still in his hand. Sapnap’s own phone showed that it was midnight. And then, suddenly, Sapnap was encompassed in an embrace, big arms wrapping around him.

Sapnap felt his eyes sting.

“You’re finally here,” Dream murmured. He smoothed his hand over Sapnap’s back and pulled away, just a little, but Sapnap made a noise of protest. Sapnap’s voice cracked, and he felt his face flame as he hid it in Dream’s chest. Dream chuckled wetly. “Are you crying?”

“You are, too,” Sapnap said. “You better be crying, because I cannot be alone in this … this feeling. You feel it, right? This … happiness?”

“Yeah,” Dream said. “I feel it too. Like my other half finally came home.”

“Yeah,” Sapnap whispered. “My other half, my brother.”

The first time Sapnap experienced Dream getting swatted, he started to understand why Dream was so tired all the time. He watched through the window as the SWAT vehicle pulled up, a dozen men jumping out, all dressed in black bullet-proof vests with “POLICE” across the front, tactical gear, bullet-proof helmets, black masks, and each carrying a different type of gun. One of them even had a battering ram. They stormed right up to the front door.

Sapnap had only seen it by chance, having gone to the kitchen to make breakfast. There was no warning otherwise; Dream was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he stumbled into the kitchen.

“Dream –” Sapnap started.

“What – oh, no,” Dream said, eyes blown wide. He had just caught sight of what was outside. “No, no – not again!”

Sapnap watching as Dream looked like he was about to cry. He pulled at his hair in frustration, breaths coming in fast and stilted, right before there was a loud bang from the front door.

“POLICE, OPEN UP!” A loud voice came from outside, “OPEN THE DOOR AND KEEP YOUR HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!”

Dream made an aborted motion to the door, eyes red-rimmed, before he collapsed against the kitchen counter. “I don’t want to do this again,” he said, sounding panicked. “I can’t, not again –”

There was another loud bang from the door.

“Hey, hey!” Sapnap said. “Remember? You don’t have to answer the door anymore.”

Dream looked up from where he leaned against the counter, eyes searching for reassurance. He looked like a sad puppy someone had just kicked, but then was offered a treat directly after; it was like he didn’t know if he could trust Sapnap or not. It made Sapnap’s heart clench. He hated every single anti that dared to call in the SWAT team on Dream, and for what? Because he accidentally cheated in a video game? Because of false rumors and claims against him that couldn’t be proven? Sapnap reached out to Dream, grabbing one of his hands in his, linking their fingers together.

“You’ll never have to answer the door while I’m here – never again.”

And Dream let out a relieved sigh.

Once the SWAT team left – this time, someone called them because apparently Dream had hostages in his basement – they didn’t even have a basement – Sapnap was quick to comfort Dream. He dragged the giant man over to the couch, where he pushed Dream into the cushions and then piled blankets and pillows on top of him. The couch stretched the entirety of the living room, curling around the fireplace and TV. It was large and grey, with little character, but it was comfy as all hell. The carpet underneath Sapnap’s feet was soft and grey, and he dug his toes into the fibres.

He chewed his bottom lip, thinking.

Sapnap remembered Dream telling him that his anxiety attacks made him nauseous and light-headed. Breakfast probably wouldn’t help, but a drink would. Something cold and fresh would alleviate the nausea and light-headedness. So, Sapnap went back to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and some ice chips for Dream to snack on, giving him something to do without making him want to vomit.

Once back in the living room, Sapnap sat down next to his friend, handed him the water and ice, and cuddled into his side. Dream leaned into Sapnap, snacking on his ice chips, and gave a soft smile.

“Thank you for today,” he said. “I … I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“And you’ll never have to find out,” Sapnap said with finality.

He would do anything for his brother.

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