Chapter Text
Half an hour passes more slowly than any time in George’s life. All he can think is that each second is another one Dream has to himself. Another second where Dream could take the next step, the one that’s impossible to come back from.
Suddenly Bad stops talking.
“Bad?” George ventures after another few seconds of silence. Fear works its way down his spine. It never really left.
“I think Sapnap is calling me,” Bad breathes. “I’m gonna merge the call, hold on.”
“Hello?” George hears Sapnap’s voice ask a moment later.
“We’re both here, Sapnap,” Bad says. “Did you…”
“George?” Sapnap asks, not answering the implied question.
George swallows. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“You have to call him back. Call him back, okay?” Sapnap orders. George’s brow furrows. Confusion cuts through despair. He opens his mouth to ask but Sapnap is still saying, “Just keep him talking for— how far away are you now, Bad, an hour?”
“Half an hour.”
“Okay, half an hour. You just have to keep him talking that long,” Sapnap addresses George again.
George shakes his head, though he knows Sapnap can’t see it.
He doesn’t understand what this is going to accomplish. Obviously they’re not enough for Dream to stay. If neither of them had changed his mind the first time, then what would be different now?
Dream was so many things but he wasn’t dumb. He would know if they were stalling.
George mutters, “He’s not going to pick up. He hung up on me before—”
“He will, he will,” Sapnap insists fervently. “He was really upset, trust me. He wasn’t… He was like, distraught that he left you like that and he’s not gonna call you but I promise he’s gonna pick up if you call him.”
George wants to crush the budding hope growing near his sternum. He can’t take this anymore, being jerked back and forth like this.
“Sapnap, he hung up on me—”
Sapnap interrupts him. “He thinks you’re mad at him and I know this is terrible but you have to stay mad, okay?”
“I’m not mad—”
“George, just— listen to me for a second,” Sapnap implores. His words finally come out slower, more deliberate. “He’s going to ask you to say you love him. He wants to hear you say it.”
“I already did,” George huffs, frustrated that he can’t make sense of anything Sapnap’s saying.
“No, you didn’t,” Sapnap asserts. “He said it— you didn’t actually say it, the whole thing, but—”
George bristles. He knows everything about this situation is bad. None of them know how to handle this. But it feels like Sapnap is accusing him of doing something wrong on a call where he was just struggling to breathe.
Of course he didn’t know what to say. Of course he fucked up somehow.
He’s trying to be less defensive though. If Sapnap thinks he should call Dream back and fix his mistake, then George will. He’ll do whatever it takes.
“Okay, I’ll tell him th—”
“No!” Sapnap yells. George freezes at its intensity.
“No?”
“Sorry, but you can’t— okay, you can’t tell him that.” Sapnap sounds panicked now. George’s hands start to shake again. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“No,” George spits out. “Why can’t I—”
“As soon as you say it, he’s going to feel ready to commit. He wants to hear you mean it before he dies, right? He doesn’t want to leave with things being bad between you two so you—” Sapnap takes a deep breath. His voice drops low. “So you have to keep it not good, okay? Do you get it?”
And it does make a sick sort of sense.
Dream doesn’t want their last words to each other to be forfeited confessions and half truths. He doesn't want their last call to be one without laughter, only with sobs and shaky breaths. He wants to feel loved before he dies. (As if George doesn’t always love him, no matter what happens, no matter what they go through, unconditionally.)
Dream wants to hear George say he loves him one last time.
And Sapnap wants George to hold that against him.
George swallows. The words scrape out of his dry throat.
“That’s so fucked. I can’t—”
Sapnap doesn’t let him finish.
“You have to.”
“Sap, come on.”
“George, I’m dead serious. You’re wasting time. You have to call him back.” There’s no room for debate in Sapnap’s tone. But George can’t…
He can’t manipulate Dream like that. He doesn’t know if he’s strong enough. He always seems to give into Dream.
And what if it goes the way Sapnap wants? What if he forces Dream to wait long enough for Bad to get there? Would Dream ever forgive him for that?
“I—”
Bad cuts off his protest. “Sapnap, did you get his address?”
“Yeah, it took some convincing but… he told me he didn’t want his mom to find his body.” Sapnap rattles off some numbers and street names. The mood grows cold and dark again as the reality of that statement pushes down on them.
A moment passes while Bad puts it into his phone GPS.
“It’s closer than I thought!” Bad exclaims. “I can be there in 20 minutes! Maybe…” He trails off and doesn’t finish the thought they’re all thinking.
Maybe they’ll be in time.
Maybe they won’t.
“You gotta call him, George,” Sapnap repeats.
God, they’re so close. Could George get Dream to stay with them for just 20 more minutes? Just 20 minutes and then Dream won’t be alone.
Just 20 more minutes and Dream won’t die.
“Okay,” George finally agrees. “I’ll… I’ll talk to you guys later.”
George hangs up his call with Bad and Sapnap. He doesn’t let himself think before dialing Dream’s number.
Dream picks up immediately.
-
“George?”
He knows Dream just got off the call with Sapnap but he can’t help the rush of relief that comes with hearing Dream’s voice, with getting the reassurance he’s still alive.
“Hey.” George’s throat aches. His eyes burn. He’s been crying so much that he’s giving himself a headache. “Are you… okay?”
How is he supposed to walk the line between not giving Dream too much and not pushing him farther off the edge? He doesn’t know. He’s not built for scenarios like this. He can think of so many other people who are better qualified, who always know the right thing to say.
He’s not like that. He’s going to make a mistake.
“I’m fine. Hey, you love me, right? Even as just a friend?” So they’re jumping right into this? It seems like Dream is over any small talk.
“Um,” George sucks a breath in through his teeth. He says instead, probably too cautiously, “I’m— I’m kind of mad at you right now.”
“Don’t be mad,” Dream demands.
“You can’t just say that and make me not mad.” George chokes out, each word unnatural on his lips. He almost wants to laugh at how blatant Dream is being.
I love you, he thinks. I love you I love you I love you.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” Dream whispers. Pleads. Fuck. “You can be mad right now. You can be mad at me after. But… you can’t be mad forever. That doesn’t mean you don’t love me anymore, right? You’re still one of my best friends?” Dream sounds more hesitant now.
George digs his nails into his arm.
He bites,“I don’t know, can you be best friends with a dead person?”
“I— I don’t—” Dream stammers. “I don’t know,” he finally breathes. “I don’t want to… George, do you hate me?” Fuck, fuck— “Are you going to hate me if— when I…”
George latches onto Dream’s slip of the tongue, that one faltering if.
But there's a touch of despair in those words too and it rips into George’s chest. It’s the kind of despondent heartbreak that might push people over the edge, the kind that frays the last threads someone’s holding onto.
Shit, fuck, George can feel the balance tipping on the tightrope and he can’t hold himself back. He can’t let Dream fall.
“I would never hate you.” The words rush out all at once. “I don’t hate you, Dream. I could never.”
“Yeah?” Dream’s voice wavers with hope.
“Yeah,” George affirms, weight pressing down on his shoulders.
And then the balance tilts again.
“So you love me?” Dream persists. George hesitates. The silence stretches in the static receiver. “George?”
“I’m here.”
“Are you going to say anything?” Dream prompts.
“What do you want me to say?”
“You know what I want you to say.” Dream isn’t begging but it’s a close thing.
George hears Sapnap pleading with him. He has to hold the line.
George pushes his head back against his wall and whispers, “Dream… I don’t want you to die.”
“That’s not it.” The disappointment is clear in Dream’s voice.
“But it’s true.”
“I love you, George.” The emotion in Dream’s words brings new tears to George’s eyes. He’s never heard Dream say it like that before.
It has the finality of a goodbye. George tries to look past that.
“I know. You said it before,” George answers.
“Do you…” Dream trails off.
“I think you already know, Dream,” is the closest George lets himself get.
“So say it.”
I love you, I love you, I love you.
George lets the silence fester.
“George, please.”
George presses his face into his knees. His teeth dig into his lip, like he needs to physically stop the words from jumping out of his mouth.
“Come on, really?”
George squeezes his eyes shut.
How long has it been? Surely Bad must almost be there. He has to be close.
“George, can’t you just say it?” Desperation strings through Dream’s words.
“Can’t you just stay alive?” George finally responds.
“No,” Dream says immediately.
“Then no.”
“George, I…” Dream’s voice falls to a devastated whisper. “I don’t want to go without hearing you say it one more time.”
“I know,” George murmurs back. He’s vaguely aware that his cheeks are wet.
“So that’s what this is then?” Dream tries to sound angry but doesn’t quite manage it. There’s too much of a tremble to his words. “You’re just going to dangle it above my head until I promise you that what you want matters more than what I want?”
“It’s not like that. You know it’s not.”
I’m just trying to keep you alive. Please understand.
But this is what George was worried about. He wants Dream alive, of course, but he also doesn’t want Dream to resent him. One of those is more important to him but not by much.
“So say it back to me. I love you, George.”
“I’m going to miss you if you leave,” George answers instead because he will. It’s all he can think about. The after, the postmortem, the shreds Dream’s life will leave behind.
“It’s not going to stop me, you know. It’ll just make me sad when I go. Is that what you want?” Dream exhorts.
George doesn’t want to think about it, stop making him think about it.
“Don’t play that game with me,” George hisses.
“You’re playing with me.”
Now Dream actually is starting to sound angry but George can also hear the tell tale choking of someone whose tears have finally spilled over. Dream would never let it show to the rest of the world but George knows frustration and rage have always made tears spring to his eyes.
Dream continues, “You keep saying you don’t hate me but you won’t actually say you love me even though you’ve said it so many times before. I know this isn’t what you want and that you don’t understand why I’m doing this but it’s not up to you! It shouldn’t be up to you. So it’s not fair of you to hold this over me because obviously I want to hear it, obviously I don’t want to hurt you but…”
Dream sobs. George’s heart breaks.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t— Dream…”
Dream sniffles and doesn’t respond.
“Dream, I…”
George digs his nails into his knee. He hears Dream’s breath catch.
He can’t say it. Dream will hang up and then he’ll be gone. Saying he loves Dream is the same as saying goodbye and he’s never going to be ready to say goodbye.
“I care about you so much, Dream.”
“You know that’s not what I want to hear you say,” Dream rasps.
George closes his eyes. He murmurs, “I know.”
“I wish I could have seen you. In person,” Dream says suddenly.
George wishes that too. More than anything. More than he values his own life right now. To touch Dream, to hold him, he would give anything for the chance. If Dream would just listen to him…
“You can,” George implores. “If you just wait, you could see me. I would come to you if you let me.”
“I want to. I really really want to.” Dream is so quiet that George has to strain to hear him. “But what if I see you and…”
“And?” George prompts, breathless.
“And I don’t want to leave anymore.”
The whispered confession floods through George, scalding hot.
Stay, he wants to beg. Stay, stay, stay.
He has to be careful though. He doesn’t want to scare Dream away. The balance sways between them, fragile and failing.
“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?” George whispers back.
“You don’t understand.” Scorn drips off Dream’s voice but he amends more gently, “I mean, I don’t want you to understand. I don’t want you to ever feel like this.”
“Feel like what?” George breathes.
“I’m… I’m so scared,” Dream admits softly.
“Of dying?”
“No.” Dream gives a short harsh laugh. “That’s the easy part, isn’t it? The easy way out.”
George is so out of his depth here. Dream says it so matter of factly but it's incomprehensible to George. He would never consider death the easy option. Dying has always been one of the things he’s feared most, a manifestation of all the loneliness and darkness he’s experienced before but forever this time. To bring that upon yourself… that hardly sounds easy.
George bites his lip. “I don’t know if I…”
“I’m so scared all the time, George. I’m terrified.” George hears Dream exhale shakily through the receiver.
He imagines Dream curled in the corner of his bed, nestled against the wall, arms clutched against himself like that’s all that’s holding him together. He wishes he could be there to hold him.
“I just think…” Dream continues. “What if these are the best years of my life? What if nothing after this compares? What if I live the rest of my life and remember every day that I used to have so much more? And all that will be ahead of me is just… nothing. Nothing worthwhile. Nothing that will ever make me as happy as I am now.”
“But what if it’s not? What if there is more? You— You don’t know that you won’t be happy again. What if the thing that’s going to make you the happiest is still out there?” George wants to beg Dream to give him a chance but this isn’t about him. This isn’t about them and everything George wishes they were. This is about saving Dream.
“What else is out there though?” The honesty in Dream’s voice makes George cold. “I have everything I ever wanted. I did everything I wanted. I… I could just be done now. I can only lose what I have. It’s only downhill.”
And suddenly it isn’t about this call. It’s not about holding back an I love you for 30 minutes while Bad drives towards Dream.
It’s about years and years of words left unsaid. Years of holding his tongue and thinking that it would be better to wait, that it wasn’t the time, that it would be better left alone.
What else is out there?
Dream is asking for everything George has held back, everything George has kept sequestered away for years. If there was ever a moment, wouldn’t it be now?
“What else is out there? Dream, you can’t be serious. You… You know, right?” George asks, as if Dream can free him from the secret himself.
What else is out there?
A future with someone else. A person to share the rest of your life with. Finding happiness in each other.
Love.
But Dream knows, doesn’t he? It’s been so obvious. It’s been obvious for years. He has to know.
“Know what?”
George’s heart stutters in his chest. The words fall out of him as easy as water down a cliff face, as easy as cheating death just this once.
“Dream, I’m… I’m in love with you.”
A pause, complete silence, then, “What?”
George starts to say again. “I’m—”
“Don’t lie to me. I wasn’t asking you to lie to me.” Dream sounds distraught. George can barely hear it past the overwhelming weight of his confession buzzing in his ears. “If this is just another thing you’re trying to get me to stay, please… please don’t lie to me about this.”
“I wouldn’t. You know I wouldn’t,” George pleads. The walls of his room press in on him.
“So you…” Dream can’t seem to quite finish the thought. George does it for him.
“I’m in love with you. I thought you knew. But you were talking about what else was out there and I… I’ve always wanted a future with you.” George’s voice is barely audible.
Dream protests weakly, “You’ve never even met me.”
“But I know you.” George closes his eyes. He pictures Dream but only in the way he’s seen him before, closed inside a screen. It’s not enough. “And I’m not saying I could be the thing that makes you happy in the future but… I just thought you should know that I want to be, if you’d let me.”
I want to be your everything, if you’d let me.
“Oh.” And Dream’s exhale is so soft and sweet and hesitant. George wants to hold it near his heart forever. But then Dream starts again, “I just… I don’t know if that changes how I— huh?”
There’s shuffling, the click of a lock, a creak, and then, “Dream! Thank god, you’re still—” Bad’s voice rushes through the phone speaker.
“Bad? How did you—” The sound is muffled, like the microphone is pressed against something. George imagines Bad clinging onto Dream, reassuring himself that he made it in time, that Dream’s safe. “Should have known you guys would find me.” Dream sounds rueful, maybe even disappointed, but resigned. And George can tell he’s given up on his plans, at least for the night.
That’s it.
The worst has passed.
George can’t even breathe.
“I’ll be there tomorrow,” George says into his phone. He hangs up.
The emptiness of his room stares back at him.
It all hits him at once. The shock of learning Dream was planning to kill himself, the anxious and endless waiting while Bad drove to there, the stress of trying to talk his closest friend off the edge, the confession he thought would die with him exposed to the light.
He crumples to the ground, sobbing and shuddering. Once the panic attack passes, he books plane tickets.
-
It goes like this:
“Did you mean it?”
Dream’s arms are crossed, fingertips white where they press into his forearms. He looks smaller.
He’s been like a ghost all day. Bad forced him to come to the airport to help pick up George because he wouldn’t leave him alone. It wasn’t exactly the meeting George always envisioned but Dream hugged him and George buried his face in Dream’s shoulder and they stayed like that for a long time before they drew apart.
It’s been less than a day since George arrived. The whole time Dream has been terribly quiet. His gaze drifts to nowhere, despondent until Bad or George or Sapanp, who arrived a few hours after George, pull him back into the present. Sometimes Dream stands up and makes to go somewhere until one of them puts a hand on his wrist and reminds him that he can’t leave their sight, not yet.
George knows they’re smothering him and he also knows they can’t help it.
The moon is out now. George stayed up with Dream after Bad and Sapnap went to bed. He can’t say if he’s imagining it but Dream’s eyes look clearer.
“Did you mean it?” Dream asks again.
George blinks and for the first time since arriving, he sees Dream instead of the shell of him.
“I meant it,” he breathes.
“I… I love you too. I’m in love with you, George.” Dream’s gaze meets his and then flicks away. He curls further into himself. “But I don’t want you to think that this changes everything.”
George takes a step closer, then another. He trails a hand from Dream’s shoulder to his elbow. Dream’s arms loosen and fall to his sides.
“It might. If you let it. Can you just…” George carefully, gently slots his fingers between Dream’s. Dream lets him. “Can you just wait? You don’t have to promise you won’t do it. You don’t have to promise me you won’t think about it. But just wait. Just a little longer. And if you still want to end it in a year, in a few years. In five years. Then you can.”
George doesn’t quite mean it. He wouldn’t give up Dream without a fight. But he hopes he won’t have to fight at all.
He squeezes Dream’s hand. Dream squeezes back.
“Can you give the future a chance?” George asks.
George can see the hesitance in every line of his face. But finally Dream nods.
And George doesn’t let go.