Chapter Text
George softly snores on the old broken-down couch of the cabin, his breathing is steady, soft and calm. It gives Dream a bit of relief, knowing that the brunet can peacefully rest like this, and it also gives him time to beg the ever-living-hell out of Sapnap to help him with the Cabin.
Sapnap, the noble son of Hephaestus, a guy with the confidence of a thousand men and the craftsmanship of millions.
Fortunately for the both of them, they were born around the same time, however, the black-haired boy was brought up by his grandparents – Zeus and Hera. That didn’t make him any less of a builder though, he followed his father's footsteps, except for living in Olympus.
Sapnap – in a fortunate twist- lived on earth.
“Okay, so let me get this straight,” the ravenette leans on his messy table, pinching his nose bridge. “You found a human- Aphrodite's human, nonetheless, and decided that it was a good idea to tell him that you are the one destined for him?”
Dream smiles awkwardly, “When you put it like that...-”
“You do realize she’s going to fucking kill him, right?”
“Okay- no need for words like that. She’s-” Dream breathes. It’s not the first time he’s made an excuse for a mortal, in fact, you could say he does it all the time with the others. He always gives humans the benefit of the doubt, and he’s sure the goddess of beauty could spare him this once. “She’s not going to kill him. If- if anything I’ll- I’ll just kill her first.”
Sapnap stares at him for a second, “Are you insane?” He shakes his head, sighing so deeply it might as well be his last breath. “Listen- you're batshit crazy, alright? But-" He sighs again, "If you get caught, I had close to nothing to do with this.”
And Sapnap would’ve agreed anyway, even if Dream said he’d tell, he would’ve still agreed. It’s the way Sapnap works, he’s got unbreakable loyalty, and he knows that this matters to the blond.
God don’t usually believe in friendship amongst each other. But they’ve always proved otherwise.
“Does this mean you’ll do it?” Dream beams.
Sapnap sighs, then nods, “Just this once."
The cabin needs a lot of work, or at least, that’s what Sapnap says the moment he sees it. It needs a new roof, new walls, new floors, new everything. Dream considers just bulldozing the whole place and start from the bottom, but the ravenette explains that the foundation of the house itself has kept up quite nice.
So, in order not to wake George while he and the shorter do some renovating, Dream places George in a sound bubble, just in case.
They start with the outside first, being gods, they can just repaint the whole outside in an instant, but replacing the old with the new was still not the best of their abilities, and in order to keep George safe, or more so make sure the house doesn’t collapse on him, they decided replacing each one individually would be the best choice.
Dream wasn’t of much help here, he wasn’t a god of building or wood working, he barely knew how to use a hammer let alone hold it properly. It's not like the dead ever need planks or paint to build houses.
He worked on the inside instead. Making sure the water in the taps ran, the bathroom was working and had both hot and cold temperatures, he made George’s room on the second floor, and he fixed the stairs to the best of his abilities.
Sure, he didn't exactly know what colour the brunet liked, or how soft his bed had to be for him to actually get sleep in it, but he's sure he'll know that soon. He hoped he'd know that soon.
The good thing was that George fell asleep without properly seeing the inside first, which made it a lot easier for him in not having to explain why all of a sudden everything looks new and clean, like it had just been done.
The outside could be brushed of as a sleepy sight, an image created by George’s dizzy state and half-lidded eyes.
“Oh, wow. You really outdid yourself this time.” Dream smiles, he walks backwards away from the house, taking in all the work his friend has done.
Sapnap looks at him, wiping sweat off his face, “Yeah,” He chuckles, “I did it for him mostly, he’s hot.” He laughs as he watches Dream’s brows furrow.
“Yeah, yeah whatever. He’s Aphrodite’s for a reason, right?”
The ravenette bursts into a fit of giggles, "What makes you so interested in him anyway?"
"I don't know, he's- he's just, not like other mortals I've met." Dream shrugs, smiling softly.
Sapnap hums, finishing replacing and painting the last plank of the house, “Well, when you’re done toying with this one, maybe I can have a go, what’d you say?”
“Toying... with... him...?”
The ravenette's face slowly falls, showing a worried expression, yet still trying to smile, “No God ever keeps a human around for long, Dream. I- I expect you’re no different. I’ve had my fair share, and plus, it happens eventually anyway.” Sapnap says as he picks up the last of his tools. "Just- remember that, they don't usually live for long, and Aphrodite might come back looking for him. Keep- keep that in mind, okay?" And with a salute, he disappears into the wind.
Dream can’t help but hate how right he is.
Gods never keep mortals around for long, eventually they get bored and toss them to the side, or worse, kill them. And Dream is nothing more but a god.
‘Just a god’ has always been such a weird statement to him, but in times like these, he gets it. He can’t do much. He’s going to live for as long as time and space exists, and George, he’s going to die. He can die at any moment.
It’s rare that gods get so attached to humans, and even rarer to that they reconsider their entire existence because of them. Mortals don’t have power; they don’t have hands that could break mountains, they don’t have eyes that can kill. But they have something a god never will.
A soul.
Their souls are full of beauty and pain, lust and hatred. It’s a beautiful thing, it lives deep inside, somewhere amongst all that skin. It harmonizes with everything it comes in contact with, it dances to the sounds that it hears, and it paints with the colours that it sees.
It’s something that he has kept safe for years. Every soul has their colour , and their sound. They all ring in different tunes and flow in different ways.
Dream, the son of hades, has kept these souls away from any harm for longer than death has existed. He’s savored life and he’s watched countless stories of theirs – they all have something different to tell.
But gods can rip away those souls. If they’re powerful enough, they can crush them too.
And some souls are unlike others. They’re sweeter than honey and sugar together, they flow with strong energy and give power to whoever consumes it.
But when there’s chaos, there’s harmony. Because gods can give souls too.
Not many, but a few can. Luckily, Dream is one of those gods. He gives souls, because he takes care of them. He creates them from nothing and makes them into something.
A soul given by a god is naturally more powerful, it’s sweeter, has more energy. That’s why monsters eat humans in the first place. To eat their souls, to gain that power. And the sweeter the smell, the more you attract.
George is one of those souls, and every god who steps near him will have an immediate urge to consume, even Dream, even Sapnap.
Though they don’t show it, the instinct lives in them since the Titan era.
Dream has never killed a person for their soul before, he feeds all the dark and evil souls to the others, but he never takes them himself. It’s a promise he made to himself; he takes care of the dead, but he never kills them – that's not his job.
George continues to softly snore on the brand knew couch, the sound bubble slowly deflating. The brunet was a peaceful creature, he didn’t know what the world could do to him, he didn’t know the feeling of sadness or grief. But for every human, It’s just a matter of time. They all face it at some point, whether it be the moment they’re born or on their death bed.
Dream wouldn’t let George be one of those souls though, he’ll make sure if the brunet dies – he dies a proper death, like of old age or a mild disease. That’s a proper death, it’s natural. He won’t let him get killed, betrayed, or consumed by another creature in the universe.
And he promises himself that.
“Dream?” George yawns softly, turning his head to look at the blond. He’s sweaty and tired, yet still smiling.
“Hi, George. How are you feeling?” He asks, reaching out to tuck the brunet's hair behind his ear. He hums softly as his fingers touch the smallers face, it’s soft and warm, beaming with energy.
George smells of sweet cinnamon buns and thyme tea. It’s luring and attracting. He thinks that’s part of why he found him in the first place, by pure instinct to follow any sweet smell he feels.
“I’m... okay.” With that his stomach grumbles. George turns pink, has he ever felt that before?
Dream giggles softly, standing up and looking at the half-finished kitchen. He’s cooked before. He’s cooked for the town's folk, he’s cooked for animals and creatures alike. But what does a person who’s never eaten food before like? What is there to give a person who’s feeling hunger for the first time in their life? Without feeling it, he can’t have an answer.
“What do you eat, George?” He asks, hoping for at least a little clue on what he could attempt to make.
Brown eyes meet with his, and George tilts his head a little, confused on what to answer, “I like apples. That’s all.”
Dream hums, “What about non-sweet things? Do you like meat?”
George’s eyes widen, and he thinks, “Do I?”
The blond looks at him for a moment, thinking about what could possibly be happening. A god’s creation is usually combined with an old soul, so how come George doesn’t know such elementary things?
Even if Aphrodite creates humans merely for beauty, they still have a sense of self, they still know who they are and where they came from. Whether it be from a past life or this one. He's never seen someone be so confused before, but not scared. George wasn't scared, and that made it eerie.
If Dream didn't know himself in that way, he thinks he'd rather die than live for any longer, he'd be terrified of everything that exists or has existed. But not George, he's not afraid, he's confused, that's for sure, but he doesn't feel the fear of not knowing. Maybe that's what makes it so eerie? Maybe that's what makes him so much more different.
He's not a son, not a lover, but a creation, yet he feels so much more than that. He's not like other Aphrodite's crafted humans, he gives off a strong scent, his presence feels godly. Does that make him one? He's not sure.
"Does- does not knowing make you feel any type of way?" He asks, playing with his fingers.
George notices it, and he unconsciously does it too, "Confused. I think- I'm not sure. I guess that's what confusion is though, huh?" He smiles, his pearly whites shining in the light.
"Yeah," Dream walks closer, gently placing a hand on the brunet's chest, “You’re going to feel a little weird for a moment, alright? I’m just making sure you’re okay.”
The brunet nods and with it Dream’s hand sinks into his chest, “Dream- what are you doing-?”
Dream doesn’t answer, instead, he gently pulls out a little rock shaped piece from George’s body.
His soul. As the blond examines it, he notices a small part of it is missing.
That’s George’s purpose. To find that little missing part and put it together, become whole again.