Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"You're new here," the cab driver comments.

George doesn't like it when drivers talk to him. They always insist on starting up a conversation, but he always sees car rides as something of peace and quiet rather than speaking.

"I am, yes," George responds, making a split-second decision to entertain the cabbie. His eyes and mind are elsewhere, though, primarily focused on the trees rolling by outside of the window.

Despite having lived so close to it (and by close, I mean to say that he was two states away from it with the ability to drive wherever he chose but chose not to), George had only seen the Pacific Ocean on three separate occasions.

One he does not remember, since he was a baby at the time.

The second happened when he was 11 and his parents had flown the family to Japan while his father went on a business trip (the flight back, he counts as part of the second time).

The third occurred when he was 17 and had stolen the keys to the private jet, taking a joyride with his friends in the middle of the night and somehow ending up soaring over the ocean, enjoying the crashes of the waves below the aircraft.

He was now 23 and thinks it's nothing special, just a big body of water that looks too cold when it appears around a corner in front of them.

"Where are you driving in from, then?" The cabbie asks.

George hesitates with his response. Technically, he had been in Los Angeles prior to landing in Medford, but his parents' primary home was in Nevada. "Las Vegas, actually."

"Why in the world would you come to Nethermire, then?"

A shrug came from George this time as a response since he didn't quite know himself. He answers it vaguely. "Just needed a breath of fresh air, I guess."

As the cabbie starts a rant about nothing of interest, George turns his complete attention back to the forest.

It looks much darker than other forests he's seen, and a lot wetter. George finds it strange to see all of the ferns and moss everywhere, littering the trees and the forest floor, but he likes them.

Another turn brings the view of Nethermire to George's vision when he glances out the windshield. The ocean stretches out to their left, seemingly endless and a color of blue that George doesn't find very interesting.

"Where exactly will I be dropping you, sir?" The cabbie asks, shaking George out of his observations.

"Ummmm..." George realizes that he doesn't know who he needs to talk to. His new house is down by the water, but he's got no idea how to get there.

"There's a city hall?" The cabbie suggests.

"Yeah, yeah, that'll work."

A gentle rain starts as soon as the cab gets closer to the small town, making George shiver. His mind wanders to the warmth of Las Vegas as he watches gas stations, bookstores, motels, and restaurants.

"Here we are," the cabbie says as he pulls in front of a big white building with a wind-blown exterior and a sign that says "City Hall". "I'll help you with your luggage."

"Thanks?" George replies.

Two minutes later, the cab is gone and George is left alone and confused in the rain, a suitcase in each hand and a backpack on his back.

City Hall is nothing too special in George's opinion. It's damp and a little drafty, lit up by the light coming in through the windows. It does have a warm feeling to it, especially from the carpeted floor and the desk of the receptionist, but George is still shivering.

"You look lost," the receptionist says. He looks too young to be in this position, but his brown hair is neatly combed and his shirt has no wrinkles in it, so George trusts him to do his job.

"I am a little lost. I just moved here." George steps up to the counter and drops his suitcases on the carpet (why he's not rolling them, he doesn't know). They each make a gentle 'thunk' when they hit the floor.

"I heard that we were getting a new person! My dad was the one who sold you the house." The receptionist smiles, a giddy sort of smile, and holds out his hand. "I'm Tubbo."

"Nice to meet you, Tubbo." They shake hands. George is still cold, despite the warmth of the air around him. "Do you by chance know how I can get to my new house?"

"Oh, absolutely!" Tubbo says excitedly. "But you've got to meet someone first. Bad demands he knows everyone in town."

"Who's Bad?" George asks.

"The mayor! He runs things around here. He's really nice, don't worry." Tubbo pushes a button on his desk phone (an ancient-looking piece of equipment), though it makes no sound.

A moment later, a man that looks around George's age steps through a door behind Tubbo. He's dressed in a suit that's so blue it's almost black. The color of the fabric complements his brown eyes and dark hair; he's attractive but in no way George's type. The air around him oozes confidence.

"You must be George!" The man says upon seeing the confused man in the lobby. His voice doesn't fit his vibes.

George expects a handshake but the man drags him into a hug. They're both thin enough that it's not a warm hug, but the man grabs him so tightly that it's like they're friends embracing rather than strangers.

"I am, yes," George says upon pulling back.

"Great to meet you! Welcome to Nethermire. I'm not the mayor, my husband is but he's not available right now so I'm greeting you instead."

"So you're not Bad?"

"Nope! My name is Skeppy." He has a grin on his face wider than Tubbo's, which is a little off-putting to George. "Bad's right-hand man, if you will."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Skeppy," George says. "I just moved here."

"I know! Bad knows all the goings-on of this town, and as his husband, I know as well. Have you been to your new house yet?"

"No, I just-"

At that moment, someone comes through the door behind them, and when George turns to see the source of the interruption, he sees a man who is quite attractive and surprisingly tall.

"Dream!" Skeppy says upon seeing the man. "What are you doing here?"

'Dream' holds up the folder he has in his hand to show Skeppy as he slips off the hood of his forest-green rain jacket. "Had to bring something to Bad."

"You can give it to me, Bad's unavailable right now," Tubbo says.

Dream makes no indication to show he sees George when he brushes past him, but once the folder is in Tubbo's hand, he turns and gives George a large smile. "Hi!"

"Hi?" George doesn't quite understand how this man can look so happy while he's sopping wet from the rain outside. He looks cold: his cheeks and nose are tinged pink and some of the long strands of his hair are sticking to his wet forehead.

"George, this is Dream," Skeppy says, taking the initiative to introduce the two. "He owns a bookstore down the street."

"Nice to meet you," George says, shaking Dream's hand and noting how soft his grip is.

"Nice to meet you! Tubbo's dad mentioned selling that house down by the water, and I was excited to meet whoever was moving in there!"

"So you know where my new house is?" George asks, all thoughts of "stranger danger" going out the window as he stares at Dream.

"I do! I can drive you there if you like," Dream says with a warm smile.

"Sure, yeah, that'll work." George smiles back, the action heating up his body so he finally stops shivering.

"Woah, woah, not yet. You need a couple of things before I let you go." Skeppy grabs a small stack of papers off the counter in front of Tubbo and hands them to George. "Those are essentially tourist pamphlets but they have the locations of all the major stores and the best restaurants in town, so I think you'll find them helpful."

"Thank you," George says. He sees that the pamphlet on top is titled "Nethermire: The Hidden Gem of the Oregon Coast".

"I'll get your bags for you. My car is right outside so we won't have to walk too much in the rain." Dream picks up both of the suitcases so George is only left with his backpack. "Bye Skeppy! Bye Tubbo!" He says upon turning around and walking towards the doors once again.

"Good luck!" Skeppy says as he waves goodbye to the pair. "There's a Town Safety guide in there, and I recommend you read it!"

"Thanks?"

"It's important stuff! Bye!"

"Bye guys!" Tubbo waves as well, that giant smile still on his face.

Dream is waiting patiently under the awning for George. The rain has really started up now, beating down on the wood above them. The suitcases are missing, but Dream motions to a slate-colored Subaru in front of them. "Your chariot awaits, sir."

"You don't have to call me 'sir'," George says as he climbs into the passenger's seat, placing his backpack between his legs.

"Based on your sweater, I probably should. Self-made millionaire or heir to a fortune?" Dream asks as he starts the car and begins their drive.

"Heir." George glances down at his sweater as Dream turns west off the main road and down a smaller street. It's not a very expensive sweater, but it's probably too nice to be wearing out in the rain.

"I'm surprised that you've come to Nethermire, then. It's not a very exciting place." Dream's eyes stay focused on the road in front of them. The smooth thumps of the windshield wipers mingle with their conversation.

"I wanted to be somewhere quiet for a while, I suppose," George says, and it's the truth. Before he goes to actual college, before he has to be a responsible adult, he wants to take a gap year (despite the fact he's already 23) and spend some time in a quiet town, away from the chaos of his life.

"People always come to this town looking for quiet," Dream muses. "You seem like a nice addition to Nethermire, though."

George doesn't particularly know how to respond to that, so he doesn't, just looks at the buildings outside. They're all covered in wind-blown peeling paint in dull colors, just like any small seaside town.

"Welcome home," Dream says upon pulling into the driveway of a small house.

It's a cute little building with dull yellow paint and a porch wrapping around it and jutting off in one spot to form a deck. There are plants everywhere, mostly in pots, and a big blue umbrella over three chairs on the deck. It's surrounded by similar houses and its back wall faces the ocean, which is visible from where they're standing.

"How big is this thing?" Dream asks, looking at the house as he pulls George's suitcases out of the trunk.

"402 square feet," George responds, finding the keys in his pocket (Tubbo's dad had sent them to him via mail). "I like it."

"I would've expected something bigger for someone of your status."

The five wooden stairs creak as George and Dream walk up them. George uses the blue key (he has three keys: orange, blue, and green; he doesn't really know what the other two are for) to unlock the white door.

A rush of heat hits the two men in the face as the door swings inward, revealing a cozy living room with a bright pink couch. The kitchen is connected directly, and there's a closed door to their left that George assumes is the bedroom.

"I'm getting a new couch," George comments, taking in the cramped but comfortable setting of his new living quarters.

"That might be a good idea. It looks like there's an old woman living here."

"Yeah... I can take those." George motions to the suitcases, which Dream sets down gently on the porch. "Thanks for giving me a ride."

"You're welcome," Dream says with a small smile.

"I don't think I need any more of your help anymore."

"Right! Sorry." Dream scratches the back of his neck (he didn't put his hood up again so his hair is still sticking to his face). "If you, uh, want a guide around town, I can give you my number?"

"That works, yeah. I'm sure there's a pen and paper somewhere..."

And there is, sitting on the table next to a small basket of fruit and a note that says "Welcome home, George".

Dream scrawls his phone number down in messy writing and hands the pad back to George. "It was really nice to meet you."

"It was nice to meet you, too." George smiles, realizing he's enjoying this so far.

After they've said their goodbyes, George watches Dream's car back out of the driveway and head back towards the main part of town. He almost wishes Dream would've stayed, but he knows he can't just ask random people to be his companion during his first night in a new house.

As George lays in the blue sheets of the bed he'll soon become familiar with, he's able to do something he's never done before: fall asleep to the sound of the rain hitting his roof.

First night in Nethermire. Many more to go.

Chapter Text

Never has George been in a place where the rain is so constant.

Growing up mostly in a mansion in the arid desert of Nevada, he's never experienced the level of humidity that Nethermire presents on the daily.

He's also never been this consistently cold in his life, even when his family stayed in Alaska for a month while his dad was on a business trip.

His dad was always on a business trip.

Despite the cold and the wet, George slowly began to love Nethermire. He did not expect to enjoy something like the waves crashing or the calls of the Oystercatchers or even the rustling of the wind through the oak tree in his yard, but he enjoyed them nonetheless.

Dream quickly becomes a friend rather than an acquaintance, which George enjoys. Most of their interactions occur when Dream leads George around town, showing him all the best places to eat dinner or buy groceries.

It's not a very big town (9,456 people, according to the sign at the edge of town), but there's plenty of places to see. George hasn't had much interaction with small, family-owned restaurants after growing up in a city with rich parents, but it's a pleasant change.

On the fourth morning George is in town, Dream texts him and says he's busy so George is left on his own. It's a Monday morning, so George supposes that maybe Dream will be busy at his bookstore during the week.

George walks down his (yeah, it's completely his) short path down to the beach, a light black jacket slung over his shoulders. He still hasn't gotten used to the strength of the wind on the beach, but he likes it.

He sheds his tennis shoes as soon as he hits the beach, digging his toes into the damp sand and loving the coolness of the feeling. Since it's been raining, the sand doesn't blow up at all, just sticks to the earth and creates a dull brown landscape that contrasts with the deep blue of the ocean.

George finds a large piece of driftwood and sits down on it, setting his shoes next to him on the log and taking a deep breath. He lets his mind wander to whatever it needs to wander to: his family, his new experiences, the clam chowder he had for dinner last night, Dream...

Dream has been helpful so far. He cracks jokes and is able to hold long conversations with his new friend, which comforted George beyond what he can comprehend.

Because this is the first time George has lived by himself. Because he's hundreds of miles away from any semblance of familiarity, but Dream is slowly becoming something familiar.

To calm himself even more, George lets all his thoughts out of his mind. He always imagines that there's a little door that he can open and all his thoughts just run out like water from a cup until his mind is blank. Simply being able to stare at the ocean is enough for him, so he just takes it in, not interacting with anything else in the world.

When he gets tired of sitting in the cold and wind, George finds himself back in the warmth of his home, washing his feet off in the warm water of the bathtub.

The house is really small, but in the ways it's cramped, it makes up for in coziness. There's a water heater that heats the whole place up that George likes to sit on top of, and a coffee machine that also steams milk how he likes it, and a giant window in his bedroom that looks out over the ocean.

A cat with lime green eyes is asleep on George's porch when he glances out there after his feet are clean and dry. Its fur is a gray, mottled color, and it has white paws. He tries to open the front door so he can step out and pet it, but it skitters off the wooden deck and across the street to the brown house whose residents George has yet to meet.

George chooses a small diner called "Pacific Dinner" for breakfast, which Dream introduced him to ("Best bacon in town, hands down"). He walks to it and finds a table by the window, draping his blue rain jacket over the back of his hair.

"You're George, aren't you?" A man says, sitting down in the chair across from him while he's still scanning the menu.

Messy black hair. Shining blue eyes. Slit cut in one eyebrow. Black jacket over a white hoodie with a fire emblem on it. Dark blue jeans. White sneakers.

"Who's asking?" George asks hesitantly, knowing full well that his words are an admission to his identity but wanting to know who the hell is sitting across from him, interrupting his thoughts.

"One of Dream's friends. Don't worry, I come in peace." The man puts his hands up jokingly as if to show his innocence. "I'm Sapnap."

"Dream did mention you..." George scans Sapnap's face, trying to figure the man out but failing.

Observations: he smells like campfire smoke and looks younger than George.

"Cool! He mentioned you, too, really seems to like you so far. We don't get a lot of new residents in Nethermire, so it's always fun to shake things up a little." Sapnap chuckles, a nice little sound that George wouldn't be opposed to hearing more of.

"That makes sense. It seems pretty quiet here."

"Depends on where you look." Sapnap picks up a fork and starts twirling it over his knuckles. "I think it's only quiet for the people who accept the quietness."

"How profound," George jokes, looking back down at his menu, then up at Sapnap. "Would you like to join me for breakfast?"

Because, screw it, one of his goals for living in a new place is to make friends, and Sapnap doesn't seem like such a bad person yet.

"Sure?"

"I'd pay."

"Oh, uhh, thanks for that." Sapnap grins; his nose wrinkles a little when he smiles. "Dream did tell me you were rich."

"Oh? And what else?"

"That you're pretty chill for being from a pretentious background."

"Now that sounds like a bit of an insult."

"It wasn't, trust me." Sapnap hasn't even so much as glanced at one of the menus, but George assumes he probably knows this restaurant pretty well. "So, where you from?"

"Las Vegas, technically."

"Cool! I'm from Houston, but my parents moved up here six years ago and now I'm going to the college here."

"What are you studying?" George decides on chocolate chip pancakes and hot cocoa.

"Computer science with a minor in graphic design."

"What can I get for you two?" A waitress comes over to their table. Her nametag reads "Lizzie" and her pastel pink hair is tied into a bun.

"Chocolate chip pancakes and hot cocoa, please," George says, handing her his menu.

"The Rancher with scrambled eggs and an English muffin," Sapnap says.

"I'll get those started for you!" Lizzie says, taking their menus as she heads back to the door that George assumes leads to the kitchen.

"So, have you been up to the trail off Seattle Street?" Sapnap asks, the fork still twirling over his knuckles expertly.

"No, not yet. Dream's been mostly dragging me to all the candy shops around town."

"Do you want to go there after we're done eating? It's not too long."

"We just met and we're already going on a hike together?"

"You're buying me breakfast, George, I think that's technically passed the first-date stage."

The trail is within a mile from the diner, so they walk there once they're finished with breakfast. Sapnap is two inches taller than George and walks a fraction faster, which leaves George feeling already tired once they're at the trail head.

"I've never seen a grosbeak before," George comments as he reads the sign at the front of the trail head.

"We probably won't see any grosbeaks, it's not really the season for them. I bet there's gonna be lots of Steller's Jays and probably some sparrows. Despite the fact that the sign says there's a whole bunch of birds, I've never seen any proof for it. There's a waterfall at one point, though, which makes the whole hike worth it."

George is thankful he's wearing a pair of boots rather than the tennis shoes he was planning on, because the trail, despite being sprinkled with gravel and needles from the surrounding trees, is muddy and squishy enough that he sinks with each step.

"So, George," Sapnap says when they're a few hundred feet down the trail. "Tell me a little bit about yourself."

"Ummmmm," George starts, mind immediately blanking on any part of himself that might be of any interest to his new friend. "I'm 24, I just moved to Nethermire from Las Vegas, and my favorite color is blue."

"That is the most boring thing I've heard all day. I already knew one of those things and the 'favorite color' one is basic as hell. I am surprised you're 24, though, you look younger than that."

"A lot of people still mistake me for a teenager," George says, eternally glad that his voice didn't match his boyish features so he was always called 'sir' on phone calls with strangers. "One of my friends passed me off as a 16 year old just to see if we could get into an event for free."

"A 16 year old could get into an event for free?" Sapnap raises his eyebrow.

"Yeah, it was a..." George trails off, realizing something.

The forest around them has gone quiet and deathly still.

"It was a what?" Sapnap asks, obviously confused.

"Weren't there bird sounds a second ago?"

"We're probably just deep enough in the trees that there aren't any birds here." Sapnap shrugs, taking a few more steps forward before realizing George isn't following him and instead turning back to his companion.

But no, it couldn't be that. George knows that forests shouldn't be this deafeningly quiet.

"No, no, something's off." George scans the trees around them but is only met with fallen logs and lush vegetation. "Where's the sound?"

"Dude, seriously, it's fine. This just sometimes happens."

"What do you mean, 'sometimes happens'?" George hisses, desperately searching for some semblance of an answer.

"Sometimes the forest just goes quiet. It's normal. Ask one of the other townspeople, they'll tell you the same thing. People have searched out here for an answer as to why, but nothing's been found out yet."

"That's not normal, Sapnap, this doesn't happen other places."

"Welcome to Nethermire, then, George. Things happen here that don't happen in other places."

Almost like a switch is flipped, the sounds of the forest resume. There's the distant rumble of the ocean, the twittering of birds in the trees, the wind blowing across wet branches, and it terrifies George.

"We can go back if you want to-" Sapnap starts, but George cuts him off.

"No, no, I'm fine." In truth, George is a little terrified, but he wants to continue hanging out with Sapnap. Besides, he trusts his new friend so far, and if Sapnap says it's okay, then it's probably okay.

"Good, 'cause I'm not done talking to you." They finally start walking again, Sapnap half a step ahead of George. "Now tell me something else about yourself and make it actually interesting."

Chapter Text

It's been nine days since George moved to Nethermire.

Dream has been M.I.A. since three days ago. He had texted George that he would busy and unavailable again, so George had been spending time with Sapnap instead. He had grown to like the man, glad that he was as easy to talk to as Dream and ten times more funny.

"Have you ever been tide-pooling?"

"Can't say that I have, no."

A week into their friendship, Sapnap and George are comfortable enough with each other that they're both sprawled onto George's couch, staring at their phones. A comfortable silence has been enveloping them until Sapnap's question.

"Well," Sapnap says, shifting into a more comfortable position, "there's a good spot for it half a mile up the beach and we're at the perfect time for it. If you wanted to come with, that is."

"Do I need special gear for it or..."

"No, no, nothing like that." Sapnap giggles, which George has realized is a sound that is common but far from unwelcome. "You just have to be ready to get your feet wet a little bit. I always wear sandals, then take them off halfway through."

"Won't it be cold?"

George has only been brave enough to dip his feet into the water once, and he immediately decided that he'd rather stick to swimming pools and hot tubs.

Sapnap shrugs. "I never get cold, so it doesn't bug me. Eret says their feet go numb after a while so it doesn't really matter."

"Eret?"

"Right, you haven't met them yet! They're one of Dream and I's friends. We should all get together at some point, honestly, so you can meet everyone."

"Yeah, that would be fun." George smiles at the idea of meeting more people in town.

"Cool! We're gonna have to go early in the morning, though, to hit low tide at the right time."

"Don't you have classes tomorrow?"

"Nah, no class on Tuesdays."

George makes a split-second decision. "You could crash on the couch if you wanted, if we're getting up so early."

"Awww, Georgie, I can stay?"

"Yeah, yeah." George frowns at the nickname. "There's extra blankets in the closet, I think."

"I can't just come into your bed and cuddle with you?" Sapnap winks.

"Don't push your luck." George slips his phone into his pocket and puts his AirPods back into their case. "We've only known each other for a week."

"Hey man, I've gone way farther with attractive people when I've only known them for a few hours."

"Sapnap, if you want to confess something to me, then go ahead, but I'm really tired right now and don't want to do anything besides eat mac n' cheese and catch up on Jessica Jones episodes."

"The flirting is a joke, don't worry." Sapnap licks his lips jokingly. "Unless you don't want it to be..."

George gives him a look that's sharp enough to shut him up before going to the kitchen and making the Kraft macaroni and cheese (just because he's rich doesn't mean he doesn't have good taste).

They eat while watching an episode of Jessica Jones, and by the end of the episode, the rain has started up outside and both of them are completely exhausted.

"What time am I setting the alarm for?" George asks as he digs through the closet for some adequate bedding for Sapnap.

"6:30, good sir," Sapnap replies, laying out the blankets and pillow George has already produced.

"That early? Really?"

"Yes, really."

There's a lime green frog on George's windowsill as he attempts to fall asleep. It's the same color as the eyes of the cat that was on his porch a few days ago.

There shouldn't be frogs out right now.

The next morning, George (and, subsequently, Sapnap due to the size of the house), was woken up at 6:30 a.m. sharp and rolled out of bed.

Upon arriving at the beach, George sees something he hasn't seen before: rocks sticking out of the ocean, forming the tide pools Sapnap looks so excited to see.

"Come on, George, take off your shoes and follow me," Sapnap instructs. If they were closer, he would grab George's wrist and drag him along, but they're not quite at that stage yet.

"It smells horrible out here," George comments when the pair gets closer to the exposed rocks.

"Yeah, that's all the dead seaweed."

So it is. There are rubbery brown leaves and long strips of green seagrass and the floaters for bull kelp spread out along the sand in a wavy line, marking where the ocean made its peak mere hours before their arrival. In a way, George likes being able to see the remnants of past waves, but at the same time, the smell of rotting seaweed makes him want to gag.

"You know, if you just dip your feet in the water right now, the bandaid will be ripped off and you won't really care about getting them wet anymore." Sapnap lets the waves lap at his toes, seemingly unaffected by the cold of the Pacific. He makes it look so easy, so effortless.

When George stands next to Sapnap and the water hits his feet, he shrieks and jumps back at the icy sting on his skin. Upon seeing Sapnap's face, though, completely serene and watching his friend, he decides to just say 'screw it' and accept the pain.

As Sapnap leads George around the rocks, George's feet go numb and he gets distracted by all the things in the tidepools to care much about them. After all, he was not fully aware that a "sea anemone" existed, much less that he would have the privilege to touch one.

"George, look," Sapnap says, balancing on rough rock and crouching down to get a good look at the underside of a larger rock in front of them. George crouches down next to him, looking where he's pointing. "Those are Ochre stars right there, those purple and orange things just above the tide."

"Starfish?" George asks, almost mesmerized by the sheer diversity of the area around them.

"Yeah."

"Cool." The back of George's mind tells him to tell Sapnap that he's colorblind, that he can't see the colors of the starfish properly, but the awe he's feeling drowns out all efforts to cease the moment. Instead, he just scans the whole giant rock, seeing the anemones hanging down, the thick fields of mussels and barnacles, and the grass growing on top of the rock.

Sapnap knows a lot about the marine life of the area, apparently, because he tells George about everything they encounter. He shows him limpets and Turban Snails and the little sand fleas that jump over their feet when they walk on the sand. He also talks about things they won't find in the tidepools: seals and puffins and rockfish and Dungeness crab.

Once George gets enough information from Sapnap to begin understanding everything on his own a bit, they separate, close enough to yell if they find anything cool but far enough away that they're experiencing different things.

George's favorite pools are the deepest ones, the ones that you could swim in. They're closer to the ocean itself, just a few feet away from the actual deep water, and they feel like mini oceans themselves. Each one is filled with a broad range of creatures and colors (George knew it had to be very colorful based on the numerous shades his own eyes allowed him to pick up), and it amazes the man how they seem to be individual worlds.

One in particular catches his eye. It looks to be so deep that his head would be covered if he stood in it, but he's not completely sure. There are two sea stars in it, along with a plethora of anemones, snails, limpets, and kelp.

There's also a pair of eyes.

For lack of a better word, they're ocean-blue eyes, staring back at George. He knows it's not his reflection since these ones are youthful and blue and his own are tired and brown.

They blink at him.

George jumps back in panic, letting out a yelp.

"You good?" Sapnap calls, not too far away.

"There's something in the water!" George yells back, still staring at the eyes. They stare right back, wide and curious.

Sapnap fights the urge to say "obviously there's something in the water, idiot, it's a tidepool" before making his way to George. "That's called a sculpin, George. They're a kind of fish."

Now that Sapnap is next to him, the eyes are gone. He does see the sculpin, which nearly blends into a rock before darting to hide under a leaf of floating kelp.

"When is Dream gonna be here again?" George asks, trying to shake the image of the eyes out of his head.

"I don't know. He's just- unavailable some days. We just have to wait until he resurfaces again."

Yet another weird thing about this town. George really needs to start writing all of them down.

1. the forest going quiet

2. the eyes in the water

3. Dream disappearing for days for no reason

4. the "town safety" guide which he hasn't read over

5. the frog outside his window (though that might now count)

6. Sapnap saying nothing is weird

George happens to glance down the beach then and sees a familiar figure.

"Dream!" Sapnap yells upon seeing the man, running down the beach and tackling him in a hug. George follows behind at a walk, sand grains painful on the bottoms of his feet.

"Hi!" Dream says, pulling Sapnap off him and giving a warm smile to George. "Thought I would find you two down here."

"Where have you been?" George asks, crossing his arms.

"At the book store all week? I've been waiting for you to call me." Dream shrugs. "I'm here now, though. I'm guessing you guys are tide pooling?"

"Yes!" Sapnap giggles, grabbing Dream's hand and pulling him back towards the rocks. "Come on, Georgie, we might see more shore crabs!"

George is utterly confused.

Dream had texted him at the beginning of the week to say he was busy.

Sapnap said he hadn't heard from Dream since Saturday.

What in the world is going on?

Chapter Text

Dream vehemently denies that he was ever gone for an extended period of time, and Sapnap backs him up, which annoys George greatly.

Upon having the realization that they have all actually become a small group of friends, George feels remarkably at home in Nethermire. It still terrifies him, especially because every other day seems to be a Thursday and he still hasn't been able to explain the eyes he saw in the tide pools.

A little more than two weeks into his residence, George sifts through the items on his dining table and comes across the stack of pamphlets that Skeppy handed him when they met at City Hall.

Maybe he should read these. They might provide information that Dream and Sapnap haven't given him yet, though that doesn't seem particularly likely; his two new friends have been talking his ear off with facts about the ocean, every restaurant in town, and every bit of Nethermire's history from its founding to its current government officials.

The first pamphlet in the stack is just a map of the town, which is useless to him since there's a copy of the map hanging aesthetically on the eastern wall of the kitchen.

The second is full of advertisements for local restaurants, all colorful and portraying pictures of mouth-watering burgers, pancakes, and seafood. Most of them, Dream and Sapnap have already reviewed for him or dragged him to.

The third is a list of local places to sight-see. The library, Dream's bookstore, the chocolate shops, the trails around town, the beach where you can collect agates, the best places to go tide pooling. George has seen the majority of them already.

The fourth one is the Town Safety Guide. George supposes he should probably read it finally, especially since Skeppy said it was important.

Nethermire: The Hidden Gem of the Oregon Coast

Hello! If you are reading this, it is likely you are new to Nethermire and unaccustomed to the policies in this town.

Enacted by Mayor Alex Miner upon the town's founding in 1963, the Town Ordinances have kept the residents of Nethermire safe from many dangers since then. Many new residents may scoff, but these rules save lives and protect the town.

1. Tsunamis are more persistent than you are.

2. Never use the blue key on Tuesdays.

3. Walk slowly when you feel the eyes in the woods.

4. The bones on the ground did nothing wrong.

5. Respect the forest.

6. Do not search for the waterfalls.

7. No bonfires on days ending in 2.

8. Don't take pictures of the ocean.

9. Maps don't list the town. Do not ask why.

10. Stay out of the snow.

11. Shops close at 8:46 pm.

12. Screams in the forest should be ignored.

13. Eyes in the tide pools should be ignored.

14. Stay away from the whales in the bay.

15. Respect the water.

Residents who do not adhere to these ordinances will suffer the consequences fate chooses.

For more information on the ordinances, contact Mayor Bad or Assistant Mayor Skeppy.

Enjoy your residency in Nethermire.

Jesus Christ, that's not what George was expecting.

He calls Dream immediately when he's done with it.

"Town Safety Guide?" Is all he can say when Dream picks up.

"What about it?" Dream sounds so nonchalant and calm, quite the opposite of what George feels.

"What the hell did I just read?"

"I'm unsure what you want from me here, George. Is there something you don't understand about it?"

"No, I just- what the hell was that?"

"Normal for Nethermire, that's what it was." There's extra sound from Dream's end like he's performing some type of task. "Pretty creepy, huh?"

"Absolutely terrifying."

"Yeah... hey, why don't you come over to the bookstore? It's slow today and I could use some company."

It's a rainy Tuesday afternoon and George has nothing to do. "Sure, what time?"

"I was thinking right now?" There's a loud thump from Dream's end. "I'm almost done rearranging some shelves so you won't have to do any heavy lifting, don't worry."

"What if I wanted to do some heavy lifting?" George jokes.

"Then you'll be rather disappointed."

"I'll be there in ten."

George walks (of course he does, he still hasn't gotten himself a car). The hood of his blue raincoat droops under the weight of the raindrops, but he doesn't mind too much. He's slowly growing fond of the rain.

Dream's bookstore is warm and smells like cinnamon and old paper. Dream himself is sitting atop the checkout counter, drinking something from a mug and reading a book George doesn't recognize. He decides to join him up there.

Their legs are touching. George thinks about moving away, but Dream seems fine with it and he's warm.

"If you want something else scary to read," Dream says, not looking up from the book, "I have a whole shelf of horror stuff."

"I don't like scary things." George scans the page, reading some of the words that Dream is. "What's that?"

"The Maze Runner."

"I've never read it."

"Or watched the movies?"

"Or watched the movies."

"I'm sure Phil would enjoy starting a book club."

"Phil?"

Dream raises an eyebrow for a moment, looking at George before realizing. "Oh, I forget you don't know everyone yet. Phil owns the museum across the street. We talk a lot."

"Oh." George bites his lip. "Dream, why are there those rules?"

"To keep people in Nethermire safe, I suppose." Dream goes back to his book. "Pretty unsettling, huh?"

"Are they- are they real?"

"Not quite sure. Everyone just always follows them."

"Nethermire's kinda creepy."

Dream just nods. "That's what I like about it though."

"Have you always lived here? All your life, I mean."

"Ummmm," Dream sets the book on his thigh, "No. I lived in Florida for a while, and then my mom got a job in Germany and we lived there, and now I've been for six years."

"Well, have you- have you noticed weird things around here?"

"Is Sapnap saying weird things don't happen around here? Cause he's full of crap."

"O-oh?" George is surprised, to say the least.

"He calls himself a "non-believer", despite the fact that I've seen him get scared of the forest before." Dream shrugs. "Nethermire is weird, and he's too stubborn to accept that."

"Oh." George has a sudden desire to grab Dream's hand (for the emotional support) but he doesn't. "Are there other weird things? Ones that aren't in the rules?"

"Oh, definitely. The Silence isn't mentioned in there at all, and it's dangerous to go on hikes on Wednesdays."

"The Silence?"

"When the forest goes completely quiet for a minute."

"That happened the other day during our hike... Sapnap just brushed it off..."

"He finds it funny to live in a creepy town and not believe it's creepy."

"Good to hear that I'm not just crazy."

"Yeah." Dream grabs George's hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Now come on, let's go meet Phil."

The blush on George's cheeks is strong and makes the man nervous.

Dream plays it off like it's nothing, just letting his hand go and jumping off the counter with his book in hand. "George?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you good?"

George realizes that he's just been watching Dream for the past twenty seconds in complete silence with a red face. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good."

"Okay..." Making his way behind the counter while George slides off it, Dream sets his book down and grabs his keys. "Do you not want to go see Phil?"

"No, no, I do," George quickly says, willing the blush to go away with no success.

"Oh god, should I not have grabbed your hand?" Dream's eyes widen and now he's the one to blush. George didn't expect he would ever see the confident man turn red, but here he is. "George, I'm so sorry, I was just-"

"Dream, don't worry!" George lets out a gentle laugh. "I liked it, it's okay."

"Oh." Dream takes a breath. "Let's go across the street then."

"Shouldn't you close up the store?"

"Patches can hold down the fort."

George raised an eyebrow at him questioningly when right on cue, a cat sauntered in front of him and jumped onto the counter where Dream had been previously.

Thankful for their jackets protecting them against the rain, George follows Dream across the street and to a small art museum. The rush of warm air when the door opens is comforting.

"Dream!" A man who George assumes is Phil says as soon as Dream has closed the door behind them.

"Afternoon, Phil," Dream says, moving forward to shake Phil's hand. "This is George."

"I've heard about you!" Phil says, taking George's hand in his own. His grip is warm and strong. "Tubbo wouldn't shut up about you on the first day you were here."

"Didn't realize I was that memorable," George jokes, causing a smile to form on Phil's face.

"We don't get a lot of new people in town, and Tubbo seemed to really like you. Wouldn't stop talking about you at dinner that Friday, Wilbur looked about ready to kill him."

Despite the fact that he'd love to know who Wilbur is and why the hell Phil was having dinner with Tubbo, George stays quiet and just listens to Phil talk.

"Do you two want to hang out around the museum for a while?" Phil asks.

Dream is blushing again, but nods. "Yeah, that would be fun."

"Cool! Tuesdays are usually slow, so you two have the whole place to yourselves."

Dream and George spend the next hour looking at all the art in the museum. Most is made by locals, but some is from places George has never heard of. Dream points out his favorites, talking about history if he knows it.

"One of my friends painted that one, actually," Dream says, motioning to a messy, chaotic painting with multiple different shades of colors George can't see properly.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Her name's Niki and she paints sometimes. Everyone in town loves her stuff and she's got a piece in the mayor's office, actually."

"I wanna commission something from her, then." George would just buy something, but he wants to be able to see an art piece properly. "It's good."

"I'm sure she'll be pretty happy about that."

They've been standing next to each other, a healthy distance apart, for the majority of their time, but Dream takes a step closer and drops his hand next to George's in a silent question. George hesitates for a moment as their fingers brush, but clasps Dream's hand as blushes spread across their cheeks.

George thinks this might count as a date, though it's probably unofficial if it is.

Dream's hand is comforting and warm, and for the first time since he read them, the rules don't sit in George's mind.

Chapter Text

George is pretty sure that the museum thing was a date.

He hasn't really thought about Dream like that since the first time he saw him (see "a man who's quite attractive and surprisingly tall"), but he isn't completely opposed to the idea of holding hands with him again.

Sapnap remains as stubborn as ever, not giving George any information about a) the creepy things happening in Nethermire, and b) whether or not Dream likes him back.

One of the original objectives George made for himself before leaving Las Vegas is to write a novel, which he starts on a cloudy Wednesday (although all days are cloudy, it seems). The pull of creating a memoir of his time in Nethermire is strong, but he already decided on a realistic dystopian piece instead.

The day after he starts the novel, he travels to the local animal shelter with Dream.

"Hello, sweetheart, what can I do for you?" The volunteer that greets them is a kind older woman, though George cringes at the pet name. Her vibes are strange, and immediately, pretty much as soon as she speaks, George gets nervous.

"George here needs a fluffy companion for his new house," Dream says, dropping a comforting hand to George's shoulder. George leans into the touch, waiting for Dream to pull away, but he doesn't.

"What kind of companion, dear?" The woman is terrifyingly sweet. George doesn't like it.

"A cat," George says.

"Let me grab my keys and then you can go see all of them," she says.

"If you want to leave and do this some other day..." Dream says quietly so only George hears. Obviously, his body language is displaying the fact that he doesn't trust this woman.

"No, no, it's fine..." George takes a deep breath. "It's cool."

"If she's making you uncomfortable-"

"Dream, it's fine," George snaps, donning a faux smile when the lady comes back with a set of keys.

"Follow me, boys." Her smile is just as fake as George's.

She leads them through a door and into a room set up like a daycare. All the cats are sitting on the cat trees, lounging in the small spots of sun coming in through the window, or playing with toys on the floor. They're all different colors and sizes, and George suddenly realizes he has no idea what he's looking for.

"We can take it from here," Dream says, hand still on George's shoulder, his grip strong and comfortable.

"Just come and get me when you find a fuzzball you like." She leaves out the same door, and George relaxes as soon as she's gone.

"I don't trust her, Dream."

"We'll make this quick, then. Now, look at the cats."

There's a rocking chair with no feline in it, and George sits down in that, looking around the room. A calico with a little pink color meets his gaze, but she immediately looks away and George decides she's not the one he wants.

Dream crashes onto the floor, immediately scooping a tuxedo cat into his arms and holding it like a baby. "This one's name is Merry."

Merry falls asleep in Dream's arms immediately, purring so loudly that George can hear her from across the room.

George hears a gentle "brr?" and a second later, a pale gray kitten with darker gray stripes jumps onto his lap, thankfully grabbing his jeans with its claws rather than his skin.

"Awww, that one's name is Alfred!" Dream says, having not seen the new cat on George's lap and rather pointing to a grumpy looking orange cat who definitely fits his name.

"What's your name?" George asks the kitten on his lap, flipping the nametag over.

"Oh, that one's cute!" Dream says, finally seeing the kitten on George's lap. "Why are your cheeks red?"

"The cat's name is George."

Dream laughs, a wheeze that George can't get tired of. "His name is George! That's the one you need!"

Despite the disturbing nature of their mutual name, the kitten looks up at George innocently with its big, copper-colored eyes before rubbing up against his hand.

George knows he's fallen in love when the kitten starts purring as it rubs against him.

"You have to get that one," Dream wheezes, way too joyful about the new development.

He really doesn't want Dream to get the satisfaction, but George really wants this cat. "Fine, but you can't tell Sapnap."

"I already did." Dream holds up his phone and waves it around happily.

"That's-" George wants to say something sarcastic, maybe even choose a different cat, but he knows he needs this one. "That's great."

"It is, you're correct." Merry is still asleep in Dream's arms. "I'm bringing home this one, Patches is gonna love her."

"You're also adopting a cat?" George raises his eyebrow, scratching the kitten under its chin.

"I've been meaning to for a while. Patches and I need a new friend!" Dream pets Merry, the cat's purring still loud and euphoric sounding.

George has never made spontaneous decisions about things that will heavily affect him in the long run (he was a spoiled rich kid and makes spontaneous decisions about short term stuff, not long term), and it amuses him that Dream decides to adopt a cat so quickly.

Human George does not particularly like it when Sapnap calls him "human George" and the cat "George", which is why he calls off their hike on Monday.

Dream, once again, has gone missing. Sapnap once again explains that he sometimes just "drops off the map, human George, we don't have to worry about him", but George worries nonetheless.

He does go on that hike by himself, though, because sitting at his desk writing for hours gives him the strong desire to go and stretch his legs.

Monday afternoon is foggy, making the trees lining the trail have a skirt of mist around their trunks. George hasn't seen anything like it in person before, but he likes it anyway.

He throws in his AirPods as he strolls along the rough trail, listening to an auto-generated playlist on Spotify and enjoying it.

Six minutes and half a mile into his walk, George gets the sudden feeling that something's watching him.

His mind scrolls through the list of Town Ordinances, but he finds no help there. Then he thinks of all the predators in the woods: black bears, cougars, even a particularly pissed off elk could seriously hurt him.

Shit.

George slides his earbuds back into their case, trying not to think about the gaze he can feel burning into his back. He just tries to focus on the vibrancy of the flora around him, but his ears are taking in every noise that's out of the ordinary.

He hears footsteps behind him, but when he turns around, there's nothing there.

Then he turns back around, and there's something there.

George can't really describe it, honestly. Or them?

It's tall, it's pale, it's so thin...

It has no face.

It's so tall, and there's red streaks down its face? Or where a face would be.

It has paws, why does it have paws?

It's so tall and pale and terrifying.

The two beings stand there, staring at each other. George is glued to his spot by fear and confusion, and the thing just watches him.

And then it just walks into the forest.

It's not a particularly dense forest, and George has the horrifying realization that the creature walks behind one of the trees and just disappears.

"What the hell?" George says it quietly, his brain trying to comprehend what he just saw.

His hands are shaking now.

Goddammit, he should not have come here.

What was that?

Why didn't it hurt him?

What?

Chapter Text

"I'm not leaving this house."

"I'm sure it wasn't actually that scary."

"No." George turns to look at the man on his couch, arms crossed. "No way."

"Human George, it was not that bad. I'm sure it was just a bear or something."

"One, stop calling me Human George, and two, it was not just a bear. It was- it was white and leathery."

"And you said it has paws? Sounds like a shaved Polar Bear standing on its back paws."

George just growls, glaring at Sapnap. "It wasn't a bear. It was like a human but worse."

"A human but worse?" Sapnap shakes his head. "I completely and truly don't believe you. You could be talking about Bigfoot, who also doesn't exist, and I would believe you more."

"Fine. If you don't believe me, I can go talk to the police."

"I don't think that's particularly necessary-"

"If it was just a bear, then they'll wave me off and tell me to have a nice day."

"The police don't do that around here, Human George. I know of two officers who will charge you in some way if you waste their time."

George decides not to react to his nickname this time, just continues with their conversation. "Is there someone else I could go to?"

"The only other person is probably Wilbur, but I'm sure he's going to be absolutely no help."

"Wilbur?"

"He's a sort of private investigator. I know he's working on a couple of Missing Persons cases right now, but I think you should go see him."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Does he have an address?"

"No, Human George, he lives in the middle of the ocean. Yes, he has an address. It's that little brown building with the Soot Investigations sign on the front of it next to Sharky's."

"And where is Sharky's?"

"It's the little sandwich place that Dream dragged you to last week."

"And where is that?"

Sapnap rolls his eyes, glancing down at his watch. "I'm gonna have to send you the address, cause I have to get going."

"What, do you have a date?"

"I do, yeah, which I'm going to be late for if I don't get going." Sapnap lifts George the cat off his lap and sets her down on the throw pillow next to him. She does nothing, just curls up more and mews gently when he stands.

"You're leaving me alone after I was almost killed so you can go on a date?"

"I can't stay here all night, Human George. You encountered the bear four hours ago and more than 20 miles away, so you're gonna be just fine. Just eat food and get some sleep." Sapnap pats George on the shoulder before letting himself out the door, letting a momentary burst of cold air in before the door is closed and he's gone.

"It wasn't a bear," George says, half to himself and half to the cat, sitting down in Sapnap's spot. It's unnaturally warm on the cushions but comforting in a way that he doesn't feel often.

After a cup of black tea and being wrapped in a blanket, George's mind finally calms down and stops thinking about that thing in the forest. George the cat, who George has affectionately started calling 'Georgie' because he got tired of saying his own name, curls up onto his hip since he's laying on his side and comforts him.

The next morning, it's foggy once again, and George doesn't particularly want to walk anywhere, so he texts Sapnap.

George

hi i dont want to walk anywhere, could you drive me up to soot investigations

snapmap >:(

youre really scared of going outside

its not even a mile from your house

George

please, i can pay you for it

snapmap >:(

fine, but i've still got my date here and im not leaving him, so hes coming with us

new person for you to meet

George

great sounds good im ready when you are

Sapnap's beat-up silver sedan pulls into George's driveway ten minutes later, an extra person in the passenger seat. George climbs into the back, smiling at the guy next to Sapnap.

"This is Karl, Human George," Sapnap says as he pulls the car out of the driveway and starts driving up the hill towards town.

"Nice to meet you," George says, shaking Karl's hand. "How was your date last night?"

"Good! He took me to dinner and then we went to the movies." Karl's giggle is unique and contagious, causing a smile to flash across George's face. "How's it going with Dream?"

"What?" George chokes, cheeks heating.

"You can't tell me that you two had a date and not expect me to tell Karl," Sapnap says.

"I- I'm not even sure it was a date."

"It definitely was. Only people who like each other hold hands in museums. For example, I would definitely hold Karl's hand."

"I'll have to talk to Dream about it," George says, cheeks still very hot.

"You get to talk to Wilbur first, though, cause we're here." Sapnap pulls into a parking spot in front of a small, brown building. A sign reading Soot Investigations sits above the door on the bare wall, and the Sharky's sign blares blue a few feet away.

"Thanks for the ride, Sapnap," George says, climbing out of the car and into the drizzle of rain that started sometime during their drive. "Nice to meet you, Karl."

"Bye, George!" Karl waves and gives him a smile through the closed window as George slams the door and watches Sapnap pull back and drive away.

The sign on the door of Soot Investigations reads

Soot Investigations

Walk-ins accepted but looked down upon

Open alternating weekdays, not Wednesdays, and always different during different weeks

6:00AM-10:00PM

Despite being way out of his element and still thoroughly freaked out by the incident yesterday, George opens the door.

A bell dings with the movement as George steps into a waiting room, two brown couches on opposing walls. A blond man sits at a small desk, thumbing through some type of magazine and not paying attention to the new arrival. Two doors sit behind the blond man and another sits behind the left couch.

George wipes his shoes on the rough black carpet beneath his feet and walks over to the desk. "Hello."

"Hello." The blond man raises an eyebrow, scanning George up and down. His accent is British, which throws George off a little. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to talk to Wilbur."

"Big W's busy right now." George frowns at the name but continues listening. "What's your name?"

"George. Sapnap sent me?"

"Are you new here, George?"

"Yeah, I moved here a month ago-"

"Have you been causing trouble, George?"

"No, I just saw something in the woods-"

"Tommy!" A voice barks, male and British as well, from behind George. The man turns around and is met with a figure in a long brown coat. The newcomer's eyes are tired and his fluffy brown hair is sticking up at strange angles. "What are you doing?"

"Just trying to help, Wilbur, don't worry!" The man, Tommy, (teenager? He's got braces and George swears he can hear a voice crack) laughs nervously, standing up as Wilbur walks towards the desk.

"What do you want?" Wilbur turns to face George, towering over him. Their height difference could probably be a foot, George estimates, and it's intimidating.

"I just- I saw something in the woods yesterday afternoon and was wondering if I could get some help with it." The words practically fly out of George's mouth, which surprises him.

"What kind of something?" It feels like Wilbur knows exactly what George is thinking.

"I'm not quite sure. It was- it was tall and white and it- it had no face."

"My office is through that door." Wilbur points to the left door behind Tommy's desk. "After you."

George leads the way into Wilbur's office, a moderately sized room with one large window showing a picturesque view of the town outside (George doesn't think it should be showing that view, it should be facing the side of Sharky's, but he doesn't say anything), a bookshelf stacked high with both books and loose papers, and a modest desk.

Wilbur crashes into the swivel chair behind the desk, pouring amber liquid from a glass bottle into a crystal glass, and George takes the chair on the other side, settling his hands in his lap.

"What's your name?" Wilbur asks, taking a drink of the liquid. George is pretty sure it's alcohol of some sort.

"George."

"And your business?"

"I moved here a month ago and creepy stuff keeps happening, but this thing was different. I was on a hike in the woods yesterday around 4:00 and this thing came out of the woods. It was pale and tall and it had long arms and no face and it just stared at me for a while before disappearing behind a tree."

"Was there blood on it?"

George is almost surprised Wilbur is actually listening to him, which is something he wasn't entirely ready for, but he takes it anyway. "Yeah, there was blood where its mouth would be."

"Fantastic, George, fantastic." His voice is so animated but his body language is so calm that George worries Wilbur's being sarcastic. "This is exactly what we need."

"What?" George asks, a little confused.

"This is what we need!" Wilbur says. "You're going to help me solve this case!"

"What case?"

"George, oh, George. Welcome to Nethermire, but you might not be here for long. People have been going missing over the last three months and I think you might have just seen the culprit."

"Going missing?"

"Yes!" Wilbur seems a little too excited to be talking about a missing persons case but George doesn't say anything. "Out in the woods! They go in and they never come out, and now we have the first lead."

"You keep on saying we..."

"I mean me, really, but if it didn't attack you, there's something different about you..."

"That makes it sound like you want to use me as bait."

"No, no, not bait, just- well, I don't have a good word for it, but I would need your help."

"Oh." George doesn't really have another word to say as a reaction. "I just- I just met you, Wilbur, and now you want to work together?"

"Yes!" There's an excitement in Wilbur's eyes that George isn't quite sure he likes. From what George has picked up, though, it seems like this is a difficult case and it'll probably good for Wilbur to solve it. "Yes, working together and finishing this!"

"Can I- can I think about it first?"

"Oh, absolutely! Tommy's got business cards up front, you can take one of those and call me when you want to!" Wilbur's body language is still completely neutral, but his voice is as animated as anything. "Thank you so much for coming, George, this is really good for the case."

They shake hands and move back out to the main area. Wilbur hands George a shiny gold business card with Soot Investigations embossed on the front and a number on the back.

When George is back on the sidewalk after saying his goodbyes, it's thankfully not raining anymore. The sun is actually almost peeking out from behind the clouds, a slightly brighter spot in the sky.

"George?"

And oh, how good it is to hear a familiar voice.

"Dream!" George turns to see his friend walking down the sidewalk towards him, wearing a black jacket and swinging a paper bag in his left hand. "Goodness, it's nice to see you."

"Okay?" Dream raises an eyebrow. "You look pretty stressed, are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. I just had a bizarre afternoon yesterday and now Wilbur is asking if we could team up on figuring out what that thing in the woods was but other than that I'm doing great."

"Cool." Dream seems to process everything George said and push it aside, instead just smiling at him. "Do you wanna hang out with me for a while? I just gotta go to the butcher before I go home, but I could use the company."

"Um, yeah, sure." The back of George's mind is still nervous of going anywhere by himself, and besides, hanging out with Dream will be nice. "Is it far?"

"No, not at all." Dream carefully slips his hand into George's, and George leans in a little to the touch. "Just a block this way."

"Awesome."

"So," Dream says as they start walking in the correct direction. "You said 'thing in the woods'?"

"Yeah, I was on a hike yesterday and saw this big thing. It was kinda humanoid and super pale and really terrifying, and so I went to go talk to Wilbur about maybe finding out what it was, but then he says I can help him with one of his cases."

"I'm sure it was nothing bad that you saw in the woods, George. Probably just Bigfoot or something."

"That's what Sapnap said." George frowns. "Where have you been?"

"What do you mean? I was at the bookstore all yesterday, and this morning I stopped at the shoe store to pick up a new pair of tennis shoes and now I'm on my way to pick up some fresh hamburger with one of my friends."

"Are you making anything interesting with that hamburger?" George pushes the fact that Dream didn't really understand his question out of his mind.

"Well, I was actually gonna invite you and some other friends over for a little barbecue thing." Dream grins at the idea, and George has to as well.

"I'm guessing it was supposed to be a surprise?"

"Yeah, but not that much of one." Dream suddenly stops. "We're here."

The pair enter a small building with large windows, and George immediately recognizes the smell of a butcher shop.

"Just a minute," a deep voice calls from a back room, and wow, is it deep.

"This is the best place to get good meat in town," Dream says, scanning the cases in front of them. There's rows of sausage, fish, shelled mussels, crabs, shrimp, hamburger meat, steaks, and things George can't name.

"What can I do- hey!" A man with pink hair strolls out from a door behind the counter, wiping his hands on his apron. He's the owner of the deep voice, and when he talks, the sound rumbles against George's ears. "Dream, long time no see!"

"Blade!" Dream's face breaks into a wide smile and he gives a fist bump to the man behind the counter.

"What can I get for you, sweetheart?" Blade asks.

"Same as usual, love, same as usual," Dream answers, flashing Blade a look that George recognizes.

George's heart falls to the ground.

Oh.

Chapter Text

George feels remarkably embarrassed as he makes a quick excuse to leave the butcher shop and walks down Main Street.

There's only three thoughts in his mind as he walks.

1. Dream has a boyfriend.

2. Their museum thing was not a date.

3. George actually really wanted it to be a date.

The sun is peeking out from behind the clouds, gently warming George's face as he walks. How ironic, that something kinda bad happened and now is when the sun makes its grand appearance.

Maybe in Nethermire, the sun comes out during bad times instead of the rain like in the movies.

George is starting to hate Nethermire.

First with the terrifying Ordinances, then the eyes in the tidepool and the rules that need to be followed and the thing in the forest- maybe it's too much.

Maybe, George realizes, maybe he wasn't ready for this.

A coward's thought, really, but a tempting one nonetheless.

Running back to Nevada, taking the jabs from his parents with an indifferent facade, buying the company he's always wanted to own. Retiring faster than his father, drenched in money and untouchable by the time he's turned 30.

It's tempting, yes, but it was also be proving everyone right, and he had come to Nethermire to prove them all wrong.

He could be an author, he could function on his own, he could find success and happiness without the direct support of his father's money.

Fifteen-year-old George, the boy who felt so desperately trapped on the path laid out for him, the boy who wanted freedom and independence, would hate him if he backed out of this.

"Mr. George?" A gentle voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see a familiar face in front of him. "Are you okay?"

Tubbo looks genuinely concerned, and just having someone look so calm and kindly gives George a burst of warmth through his chest.

"Just George is fine, Tubbo," George says.

"Okay. May I ask why you're crying?"

A touch to his cheek reveals a wetness that, for once, isn't from the rain. George didn't even realize it till then, but as the words come from Tubbo's mouth, he feels the rawness in his throat and the heat on his face.

"I-," George starts, but more tears flow down his face against his will and he has to stop for a moment to compose himself.

"I know your house is kinda far, so do you want to come over to Town Hall? Skeppy's always super kind and helps people, and I think maybe Bad's not busy today so you can meet him." Tubbo smiles, and once again, there's that burst in George's chest because the boy in front of him looks so kind.

All George can do is nod, and Tubbo turns and leads him up the street to Town Hall. The building looks just the same as the last time George saw it, on his first night in town, but there is no familiarity there.

"George?" Skeppy says upon seeing the two of them. He's working on some papers, perched up atop the counter that sits in the lobby. George didn't expect him to wear glasses, but they sit perched on his nose like they've been there all along. "What happened?"

"I think he needs some tea," Tubbo says, guiding George towards a hallway to their left.

George doesn't pay attention to how far they walk or how many doors they pass or what's on each door, but he supposes it doesn't really matter. Eventually, they reach the end of the hallway and turn into a large office.

"Skeppy?" The man inside says upon seeing them. He's standing and looking out the window at the ocean (you shouldn't be able to see the ocean through there, there's buildings in the way). A black suit and red tie adorn him, making him seem tall and important.

"Hey, babe, this is George. He's uhh- well, he needs some tea." Skeppy shuts the door of the office behind them as Tubbo guides George into a square black leather chair.

"Oh?" The man moves forward towards a small cabinet to their left, beginning to rummage around in it. "What kind of tea?"

"The red stuff, Bad," Tubbo says, sitting across from George in a matching chair.

"So you're the Mayor?" George sniffles, wiping his eyes. He feels better now that he's inside rather than out, but everything's still overwhelming and he could probably start crying again.

"Yep!" Bad says, working over the tea things. There's some kind of machine that heats up water, and there's somehow plenty of water already in it. "Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too." George sighs, realizing he's getting a headache from all the crying. "Do you guys have any aspirin?"

"The tea will help," Skeppy says with a kind smile. He's leaning against the wall next to his husband, arms crossed. "It'll be gone after you drink."

"Okay." Wrapping his arms around his body, George sniffles again. "Why are you guys helping me?"

"It's- well, it's what good people do. We can't have someone crying on the streets, can we?" Tubbo smiles brightly. He's not relaxed back into his chair, instead sitting up straight and looking alert.

"Is there anything else you need, George?" Bad asks, walking over to George and handing him a white mug filled with reddish liquid.

"No, I don't think so," George smiles, taking a sip of the tea. It's sweet and not too warm.

And then he wakes at home.

George takes a second to reorient himself, because last he checked, he was drinking tea in the Mayor's office, and now he's laying in his bed, covers pulled tight around him.

God, he hates this town.

Georgie is asleep next to him, but opens her eyes when George shifts, trying to free himself from the blankets. She meows, stretches, then stands and rubs up against his face.

"What in the world happened?" George asks the kitten, scratching under her chin. She starts to purr, and George can tell that she would love for him to lay in bed for a little longer and just pet her.

George needs a drink.

"Sorry, baby," he says quietly as he sits up, much to the dismay of the kitten. She meows in protest as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed.

No pounding headache that comes with hangovers, but George is pretty sure that he was drugged. Why else would his memory stop so suddenly?

George groans at the cold wooden floor on his bare feet, wondering where his socks had gotten off to.

Actually, where all of his clothes had gotten off to. He's dressed in a soft white t-shirt he has no memory of and gray sweats rather than the jeans and collared sweater he'd had on when he was in the butcher shop with Dream.

Right. The butcher shop.

Surprisingly, George feels significantly less upset than he did before. Really, did he even like Dream that much? No, probably not, and it wouldn't kill him now that he knew Dream has a boyfriend.

Good. That's all sorted.

(It's not, there's still the bite that tells him I wanted the museum thing to be a date, but George ignores it.)

"I could call Sapnap?" George says aloud, wandering into his living room with no particular plan.

When he glances out the window, he sees that the green-eyed cat is sitting on his porch again.

He smiles at it, unsure what else to do.

It almost looks like the cat smiles back at him, but it's probably just a trick of the light.

Or maybe not. Nethermire has thrown him curveball after curveball and honestly, George won't be surprised anymore if the cat comes inside and starts having a conversation with him.

He must've been drugged, right? The last thing he remembers is the Mayor's office, sobbing his eyes out because life was too overwhelming, and then Bad gave him some tea, and now he was at home with no memory of getting there.

Yeah. definitely drugged.

For some reason, that didn't really raise any particularly blaring red flags in George's mind, so rather than contemplating calling the police or getting out of there as fast as he can, he just glances down at his watch.

5:43 pm, Thursday.

It was Wednesday when he went to see Wilbur.

His last memories are from Wednesday afternoon.

God, this sucked.

His phone, surprisingly, is sitting on its charger, battery full and notifications aplenty. Nothing seems out of order with it, but there's a million texts from Dream asking why he left so suddenly and if he wanted to hang out, and a million and one texts from Sapnap asking if he wanted to hang and get food or go tidepooling again because the tide was supposed to be low this morning.

God, he really needs someone that'll give him a straight answer. None of Dream's cryptic bullshit, none of Sapnap's "it was a shaved polar bear" stuff, none of Wilbur's "oh look you aren't dead but you could be so now let's use you as bait", just a calm and kind mind that listens to him and believes the stuff he's witnessed.

Which leads George to walk up to Phil's museum, because Phil seems to be at least mostly sane.

"George?" Phil's head turns when he hears the bell gently clink as George walks through the door.

"Hi. Sorry to bother you but I need to talk to someone sane right now and you seemed like a viable option."

"I'm flattered?" Phil raises his eyebrows. "Couldn't Dream help you?"

"Dream's- Dream's part of the problem."

"Ah."

"I'm- now that I think about it, I shouldn't be bothering you, you're probably busy."

"No, no, I'm actually not busy. It's the slow season right now, and the museum closes in 10 minutes."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Now, come on, there's a sitting area in the back if you wanna sit down."

"Okay, yeah, that would be nice."

George follows Phil back to the sitting area and sits down in a comfy brown armchair. Phil takes an office chair rather than the opposite couch, leaning back a little. Phil's entire presence is warm and kind, and for the first time since he came to Nethermire, George feels completely safe.

"So, tell me about it. I'm all ears, don't be embarrassed."

George slowly starts explaining everything: why he's here, meeting Dream, meeting Sapnap, all the weird things that have been going on.

"And Wilbur was just-"

"Intimidating?"

"Yeah. How would you know?"

"Wilbur's my- well, it's a bit complicated, but we're close friends. I've known him for years, and yeah, he can be a little intimidating when you first meet him."

"Oh."

"You've got a lot to learn about this town, George. Have you read the Town Ordinances?"

"Yeah."

"That's honestly the bare minimum of stuff you have to learn. I've lived here for almost 15 years and there are still things that don't understand."

"Might you understand why the Mayor drugged me?"

Phil raises his eyebrows. "What was happening before that?"

"I was super upset about stuff and then Tubbo found me and brought me to City Hall and Bad gave me some tea."

"Was the sun out?"

"What?"

"Was the sun out?"

"Yeah?"

"That's why."

"What?"

"Sorry, there's just- it honestly should be on the Ordinances. I don't know why it's there, but you can't cry outside while the sun is shining. I'm sure Bad and Skeppy were just trying to make sure you didn't break the rule."

"How do we know this place isn't just a weird dictator-run thing that's all an experiment?" George jokes.

"I've learned to accept that there's things I can't explain."

"I think I should work on that."

Phil chuckles. "It takes a while, don't worry."

"Yeah." George laughs a little as well, realizing something. "I actually do wanna accept it."

"That's good to hear." Phil's smile is kind and warm. "Then let me just say, welcome to Nethermire, George. It's really weird, but I promise, it's a good town."

Chapter Text

George stays inside for a week.

Nethermire has gotten to be a little much and he needs a break.

Sapnap seems to be the most hurt about it, calling him every day and asking if he wants to go on a hike or out to lunch.

Every day, they have the same conversation.

"Human George, come to lunch with me and Karl."

"Not until you can admit I didn't just see Bigfoot in the woods."

"But you did just see Bigfoot."

"Talk to you later, Sapnap."

George calls his parents once, just to update them that he's doing okay. His mother asks if he's found a girlfriend yet (no) and his dad asks how his business is going (the book is great).

He finds solace in the beach, whether it's just sitting in a fold-up camping chair for an hour and not thinking about anything or scrambling over rocks to see snails and crabs. He slowly learns about the birds in the area, decides he really likes the Oystercatchers and doesn't like the loud Song Sparrows in the blackberry bushes that line the sand.

Eventually, he runs into someone he knows on the beach, and it's not who he expects. He's in the middle of tidepooling, balanced on a non-seaweed-covered rock and poking at whatever he finds interesting.

"Morning." Dream's word almost makes George jump out of his skin since he was so wrapped up in the anemone he was observing.

"Good morning." George looks Dream up and down, thinks he looks good this morning, remembers Techno, and makes sure he doesn't think that anymore.

"I haven't seen you in a while." Dream doesn't make any move to look at the tidepools but George continues to, reaching into the water and removing a shard of opalescent mussel shell. He dries it off on his jeans and slips it into his pocket.

"I've been busy."

"Busy with what? I've missed you."

George ignores the gentle tug at his heart at Dream's words. "With things."

"That's pretty vague." Dream crouches down next to George, looking into the same pool. George pointedly does not look over at him, knowing he won't be able to control his thoughts if he does. "Do you wanna go out to lunch?"

"What? Why?"

"So I can hang out with you! So you can tell me about your book a bit, so we can simply vibe. I like being around you, George."

"You do?"

"I do!" Dream smiles, one of those killer smiles that makes George like him more.

"What if I was busy?"

"Well, I could run and pick something up and we could hang at your house? Come on, George, it's been a whole week. I'm getting worried that you're avoiding me or something."

"I'm not." George gives up, tells himself that they can hang out as friends because that's what humans do. "Where are we going?"

"There's a coffee shop I don't think you've been to over on LaPine."

"Not seafood? I'm surprised."

"As much as I love fish, that's not what I'm in the mood for. Thoughts?"

"Are you paying?"

"Rich boy finally run out of money?" Dream jokes.

"I can pay if you need me to."

"How about," Dream stands back to his full height, towering over George once again, "we decide when we get there?"

"Fine with me."

After a quick stop at George's house ("My feet are wet, Dream"), they head to the coffee shop and order their food.

George ends up paying.

"So, where have you been for the last week?" Dream asks as he takes a sip of his hot cocoa.

George almost laughs, thinking back to the times where Dream was missing for a week and he gave no explanation as to why. He decides to be more truthful. "I needed a break for a while. This town gets overwhelming."

"Tell me about it! When I moved out here, I got so stressed about the Thing in the woods that I took a three-day nap and didn't talk to any of the locals for a while."

"Thing in the woods?" George raises an eyebrow. "The thing I saw?"

"Nah, that's something way different. You shouldn't be scared of what you saw, that thing was probably harmless. The Thing is something way scarier."

George takes a bite of his croissant, then drops it and puts his head in his hands with a groan. "And I wasn't even worrying about that."

"Yeah... sorry about that. It's important to know about the Thing so you don't, you know, get eaten or something."

"Eaten?"

"Yeah, that's what all the disappearances are." Dream sighs.

"Have you talked to Wilbur about it?"

"No."

"He thinks I saw the Thing, but if you're saying I saw something different... wait, how do you know it's something different?"

Dream's eyes widen a fraction, but he just takes another sip of his cocoa and changes the subject. "How's your book going?"

"Fine. I've been having trouble with the character arcs, honestly."

"Do you want help?"

"You would do that?"

"I'd do a lot for you," Dream smiles.

George's stomach flips over at that. He scolds himself and takes a breath. "Well, I'm trying to make a whole society..."

************************

"George, you have got to get your own car."

"I will!"

"Really?"

"Eventually, yeah."

Sapnap lets out a long, drawn-out sigh. "You have more than enough money to pay for one, what's holding you back?"

"Too many things, most of which I don't want to get into."

If he gets a car, it'll be too real. If he's got a car, he'll be tied to Nethermire.

Also, George can't drive, but that's not really the point.

He's got Sapnap anyway. The desire to get out of the house and go on a walk with someone other than Dream has reunited them again, and now they're in the car, driving to a different small town for another nature trail that Sapnap insists is incredible.

"That's really dramatic, man. You sound like Alex when you say that."

"Alex?"

"Boyfriend."

"I thought Karl was your boyfriend?"

"Polynamory is a thing, George."

"Polynamory? You mean 'polyamory'?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anyways, I've got two more boyfriends than you do."

"Don't rub it in." George sighs and stares out the window at the forest passing by. Moss-covered trees and a thick canopy wash this stretch of the highway in a calming dimness that almost reminds George why he likes it here.

"Oho, does Human George like someone?"

"I do, but there's no point in pursuing it. He's got a boyfriend already, it seems, so I'll just make a fool of myself if I try anything." A sigh escapes George's mouth. "I'm an idiot sometimes, I think."

"Nah, you're not an idiot, but now that you've brought it up, for legal reasons you have to tell me who it is."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Well, I suppose it won't hurt anything since it won't go anywhere, but I was kinda crushing on Dream for a moment."

"Really?" Sapnap raises an eyebrow but doesn't look away from the road.

"Yes, really."

"What do you mean, he has a boyfriend?"

"Technoblade? The butcher?"

"And how did you pick up that he's Dream's boyfriend?"

"They called each other pet names when we went in there the other day!"

"Oh, Georgie," Sapnap says, dissolving into a fit of giggles.

"What?" George asks, thoroughly confused by Sapnap's reaction. "What?"

"Technoblade is definitely not Dream's boyfriend," Sapnap giggles. "They're rivals, they use the pet names ironically. Never any hard feelings between them, but it's the type of relationship that's pretty much the opposite of where you would call each other 'love' or 'sweetheart', you know?"

"I suppose... so Dream is single?" There's a blush on George's face from learning this new information, but how was he supposed to know? Calling someone 'sweetheart' is a pretty romantic thing, but apparently, he was wrong?

Town Rule 16: Never assume anything because you're probably going to be wrong about it.

"He is." Sapnap coughs back a few more laughs, visibly trying, but failing, to stop laughing. "Wow, you need to learn some more about this town."

"Yeah? Like what else?"

"Well... Dream and Techno have had this rivalry since they were in high school for some reason. People keep disappearing into the woods. We've got the Town Ordinances and no one knows why they're here. 'Sharky's' has the best sandwiches in town and you can't argue with that. New businesses pop up sometimes and are gone before you can visit them." Sapnap shrugs. "That's what I can think of right now, at least."

"Still in denial of all the creepy stuff?"

"Can't deny things that don't exist."

George rolls his eyes. "Sapnap, I've seen so many weird things and I've only been here for less than two months. You've lived here for years at this point and you're still adamant on saying nothing strange occurs in Nethermire?"

"Maybe you just aren't ready to learn about stuff yet," Sapnap says, and though his tone is mostly comedic, there's something about the words that leave an uneasy feeling in George's mind.

"Yeah, maybe not." They pass over a smooth river, rushing along a canyon that's dissecting the path of the highway, and George swears he sees a large splash in the water. He ignores, it, though, because bringing it up with Sapnap will get him nowhere, and truly, he's seen enough to make the 'Things I Did Not Want To Know About' filing cabinet in his brain completely overflow. He decides to change the subject instead, accepting the fact that Sapnap's not going to help him. "So, how exactly did you get two boyfriends?"

As Sapnap goes on a rant about the intricate details of meeting (and falling for) his boyfriends, George alternates between watching out the window and watching Sapnap. His mind can't help but wander to Dream, both scolding for being so stupid and wondering if the flirting has all been genuine.

Oh, how he hopes it's been genuine.

Thank gods he wasn't crushing on a guy who already had a boyfriend.

Yes, crushing.

He likes Dream.

The museum thing was probably a date.

And George really needs to talk to Wilbur about figuring out the thing in the woods.

Chapter Text

"So, what was your plan for using me as bait?"

"Not as bait, really." Wilbur takes a drink of his coffee and holds eye contact with George. "More as... well, the creature didn't eat you, so there must be something different about you. Phil says we can't experiment any way since that's 'unethical'," he does air quotes, "but we can still take you out in the woods."

"Who all will... who will be there?"

"You and I, obviously. Tommy will come along, and I'm sure he'll want to bring Tubbo as well. Phil's got work, obviously, but I'm dragging Niki along since she's good at keeping people comfortable in new situations."

George recognizes that name as the artist in Phil's museum. He hopes she's nice, because he doesn't particularly trust Wilbur so far and Tommy doesn't seem responsible enough to lead people out into the woods to use as bait. He voices his concern. "So, how are we going to do this?"

"Well, we'll go out into the woods and preferably split up into smaller groups. The forest likes smaller groups, I think, so that'll make it easier to collect data."

Wilbur says 'daaaata' instead of 'dayta'.

"So this is scientific?"

"I am not a scientist, dear George. I am a P.I. and an unstable bastard, but not a scientist." Oh yeah, that really helps George's wariness. "This is to solve a case."

"This is crazy, Wilbur. We could die like this."

"Or we could not."

George rolls his eyes. "Fine. When are we doing this?"

Two days after their meeting, George finds himself standing at a trailhead with Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, and a pink-haired woman who exudes happiness and good vibes. It's early enough that the morning fog has yet to lift, leaving a deep mist across the forest.

"It's so nice to meet you, George," Niki says as they start their hike into the woods.

"It's nice to meet you, too." George holds tight to his water bottle, trying to ground himself somehow. He's nervous, to say the least.

"I know how hard it can be to move to Nethermire. I got here two years ago all by myself and I had no idea how anything was supposed to work, but I eventually figured it out." Niki's hair swishes as she walks. The pair lag behind Wilbur, Tubbo, and Tommy, who seems like confident enough leaders to find their target.

"How did you figure this all out?"

"Made friends with the locals and let myself not pay too much attention to the weird things. I had heard stories about weird happenings in coastal towns, they had those back in Europe as well, but I never expected all the crazy ordinances and everything." Niki giggles. "It just takes getting used to and now I love it here."

"I can see that in your paintings, yeah." George's hand brushes along a fern on the side of the trail and a bit of dew gets on his fingers. "They're very pretty."

"Thank you! I love doing them. Wilbur convinced me to start back up again after we got drunk one night. I didn't even bring any paints when I moved here, but he showed me picture after picture of whales and sharks and waterfalls and beautiful trees and begged so hard for me to paint one of the pictures that I had to give in."

"Oh, are you two..."

"No! Goodness me, no. He's my best friend but I would absolutely destroy him in a relationship."

"You would not!" Wilbur says from in front of them. He doesn't even turn around, and George is surprised he was listening to them.

"I would! We've had this argument before," Niki drops her voice so as to only talk to George, "and he denies it every time."

George smiles. "I had a couple of friends like that. They both had other significant others, but one always joked that they should've been dating instead and the other always denied it."

"Very similar-" Niki starts, but George tunes out as he catches a glimpse of something white a hundred feet off the trail.

It's leaning against a tree, watching him, and George recognizes it.

"Wilbur-"

"Yeah?" Wilbur turns and looks to where George is pointing. "Oh."

"Is that it?" Tommy asks quietly.

George can just nod, once again frozen in place.

"There's nothing to be afraid of with that thing," Wilbur says.

"What? What do you mean? That's the thing that almost attacked me!" George protests.

"No, I don't think it is. That thing wouldn't hurt a human, I've seen it before."

"What is it?"

"Drop it, George, it eats deer, not you."

So he does. The desire to know what the thing falls completely from George's mind as soon as the 'you' comes out of Wilbur's mouth.

Strange.

And there's Dream, rounding the bend on the trail in front of them. "Hey, all!" He says cheerily.

"Hi, Dream!" Niki says with a smile.

"Big D!" Tommy exclaims with a smile, making Dream roll his eyes as he gives Tubbo a friendly high-five.

"Dream." Wilbur offers a curt nod, closed-lipped smile on his face.

"And George! Just the man I've been wanting to talk to." Dream's aura changes for half a second as they make eye contact but it switches back to his smiling self even faster. "Can I talk to you alone for a moment?"

"We're in the forest, Dream, I don't think we can get very alone out here." George tries to calm his rapid heartbeat with little success.

"Well, we can go over there." Dream motions down the path, then follows George until he thinks they've gone far enough from the group.

"What are you doing out here?" George asks, lowering his voice for more privacy.

"Hiking, what does it look like?" He is, after all, dressed in khaki shorts, a t-shirt, and a pair of clunky brown hiking boots.

"Alright, no need to get defensive. Why do you need to talk to me?"

"Oh. Yeah." Dream's demeanor changes again, like he loses a bit of confidence as soon as George brings it up. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"No?" George raises an eyebrow. "What are you getting at?"

"Doyouwannagostargazingwithmetomorrownight?"

"What?"

"Do you... do you wanna go stargazing with me tomorrow night?"

"Oh." George's eyes widen in surprise. "Where would we go?"

"Down on the beach. You can see a lot of stars there."

"I would love to go on a stargazing date with you, Dream."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Awesome." Dream beams, giving George a pat on the shoulder, then quickly retracting his hand. "I should get going, you look like you have stuff to do."

"Alright!" George is smiling too.

"Text you later?"

"Yes."

"Alrighty, then. Bye guys!" Dream waves to the rest of the group. "Bye, George!"

As he sets off down the path towards the road, Dream begins to whistle. George thinks it might be "Hey There, Delilah", but he can't be sure.

"You look happier," Niki comments as George joins back with the group.

"I am."

George is in a good mood for the rest of the hike.

Nothing out of the ordinary happens.

Wilbur says they'll come back later.

George is just really excited for his date.

**********************

George's hands are shaking as he walks down to the beach, but as soon as he sees Dream, he feels a little better.

Dream has set up a small picnic blanket on the sand and he's laying down to stare up at the stars already.

"Good evening," Dream says upon seeing George has arrived. "Hope this is a good spot."

"Evening." George folds his legs under him as he sits down on the blanket next to Dream. "I can't think of a better one."

George still feels nervous, actually. He really doesn't want to mess this up. At least they're in a simple place and the only way he can screw this up is by saying something stupid.

"How was your day?"

"It was alright, I suppose. Georgie threw up on my pillow this morning but my sister won an award for her play so that's cool."

"What kind of award?"

"Something for tennis, I think. She's good at it, better than my dad, and I think she's captain of the team."

"That's cool. My little sister really likes track."

"Cool."

It feels like a dry text conversation and George buries his head in his hands, cheeks red from the awkwardness.

"This is a little harder than I expected," Dream muses. "I'm kinda bad at first dates."

"I don't think I've ever actually been on a first date."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I've... dated people before but it was more of a... well, there wasn't ever much romance in those relationships."

"Ah." Dream props himself up on his elbows. "I've gone on a few first dates but nothing has really stuck."

"I hope this one sticks," George says quietly, almost on accident, and Dream smiles. The previous tension dissipates and George nearly lets out a sigh of relief.

"I hope this one sticks too. I like hanging out with you, George."

"Thanks." George blushes, cheeks warm under the sting of the wind.

"You're welcome. It's nice to be friends with someone who is... well, you seem much more normal than the rest of the town. It's refreshing."

"Just a friend? I thought we were on a date, Dream."

"Oh, uhhhh..." Dream flushes, his cheeks darker in the already low light, and it's George's turn to smile. "That's not what I meant."

"I know that, I'm just trying to tease you a little. You're cute when you blush."

"Oh." Dream's face gets darker and George loves it. "Thank you."

"No problem." George finally untangles his legs and lays out next to Dream, his hand outstretched between them in a silent suggestion. Dream's hand finds itself under it and their fingers lace together silently. "The stars are really pretty."

It's more stars than he's seen in a long time. The sky is completely clear and dotted completely in shining points of light. There's a long cluster of stars stretching all the way to the horizon of the Pacific, a belt of white pinpoints, and George's breath is nearly taken away at the majesty of it all. It's one of the prettiest natural things he's ever seen.

"I love it out here. Even if it's cold out, the stars are always beautiful enough to make it worth it. Without all the light pollution, you can even see the Milky Way."

"Is that the long cluster?"

"Yeah. Knowing other places in the world don't have such a clear view of it is crazy to think about; it's just a natural part of the sky and it's so weird to see it missing in places."

"Yeah... back in Vegas, there was so much light pollution I could barely see the stars." George shivers, cold in the night air. Nethermire has never been particularly warm, but when the sun goes down, his Nevada bones freeze over.

"Do you want a jacket?" Dream asks, sitting up.

"No, no, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I run warm, you can have mine."

George flushes pink and sighs. "If you want to give it to me, then sure."

As Dream slips his jacket off, George sits up, still shivering. Dream carefully wraps the jacket around his shoulders, gentle enough that George barely feels the brush of Dream's fingers against his back.

The jacket smells like sandalwood.

It's comforting.

Dream tentatively wraps an arm around George's shoulder and George leans into him, warmer under the new layer of cloth and against the heat Dream gives off.

They sit in silence for a period, simply listening to the gentle whistle of the wind and the distant rolling of the ocean's waves. George feels Dream's chest rise and fall as he breaths, nearly lulled to sleep by the calming atmosphere. They both scan the sky, picking out constellations and pretty stars without sharing them aloud. It's a desperately peaceful scene and George feels calm wash over him.

Eventually, George sits up and turns to Dream, looking into his shining eyes and appreciating the man in front of him. The world seems quieter as George looks, committing the freckles on Dream's nose to memory and wondering if he'll ever have the chance to press his lips against each of them.

"Can I kiss you?" George murmurs.

"Yes," Dream murmurs back.

They lean in at the same time, quiet once more. It's a quick peck at first, gentle and sweet. They're both grinning into it.

"Can I kiss you again?" Dream asks when they're back to looking at each other.

"Yes." George giggles before leaning forward, dropping his hand to rest atop Dream's thigh.

It's calm, it's delicious, it's... it's safe. Dream's mouth feels safe. His presence as a whole feels safe, actually.

Usually when he kisses people, George can smell their specific scent, but this time, he just has the cold sea air in his nose. This time, though, he can taste cherries on Dream's tongue as it rolls with his own.

When George opens his eyes and pulls back for a breath of air, he's met with a strange sight.

His own eyes are staring back at him.

And they're connected to a face very similar to his own.

A strange sight indeed.

George's eyes widen and after a moment, he lets out a loud, short, hysterical-sounding laugh.

Dream's voice comes out of Not George's mouth. "What's wrong?"

"I'm kissing myself." George can't really rationalize any of it, just gawks at the person in front of him, the person who has his own face, the person he was kissing a moment ago.

"What do you mean?" Dream asks, then looks down at himself.

"SHIT."

Chapter Text

"Dream?" George asks quietly.

"Can you... can you close your eyes for a second?"

"Yeah." George does.

A small pop sounds from in front of George.

"You can open them now."

When he does, Dream's 'regular' eyes are looking back at him.

"What are you?" George asks, immediately regretting his choice of words. "Why were you wearing my face a second ago?"

"Please don't hurt me if I tell you."

"Hurt you? Why in the world would I hurt you?"

"Other people... other people have tried to hunt me down."

"Oh, Dream." George feels significantly less freaked out than he should, but he might just be coping and all the panic will set in soon. "I won't hurt you."

"Thanks." Dream folds his hands in his lap and looks down. "I'm a shapeshifter."

"A shapeshifter?"

"Yeah. Technically we have our own name for it but that's... it's hard to pronounce."

"Can you say it?"

"O̴̝͇̥͈̤̤̝̩̯͎̰̘̱͊̈́͂͘͜ͅp̶̡̲̭̱̱͍̄h̷̹̻͇̱̝̬̜̒̓̌̋̆͒̋̃̌i̴̫̮̳̺̪̪̲̝̘̬̤̪̥͈̍́̋ͅl̸̡̛̗̝̼͈̪̤͍͔̃͑͋͐̈́̈́ͅe̷̢̧̝͇̖̬̟̺͍͙̰̳̍͜à̶̧̛̗͙̹͓̪̥̳̝̺͉͍̆͆̿͜͠f̸̱̆͆ṷ̷͌ǎ̸̤̺̺̥̳̩̖͎̻͓̗̰̭̟͔̂̋̌͐̍͒̂̋͂̀̌̔͘h̸̪̬̘͙̥̝͑͒̔̾̾͒̋̎͑͑͐̈́̚̕ͅf̸̡̣̲̱̂̓̈͑̈́̅̒͌͐̿́̚h̴̠̥̔̿̈̔͝".

Dream says a series of clicks and whines and he's right, it must be hard to pronounce.

"So... why did you turn into me?"

"I Shift into things that I'm thinking really hard about."

"Oh." George blushes at that because, despite the insanity of this situation, he likes that Dream was thinking about him. "What else can you Shift into?"

"Pretty much any animal."

"Like what?"

"You're- you might not like me for this."

Another small pop and suddenly there's a familiar little frog looking up at George.

"So, can you talk when you're an animal?"

Dream the Frog shakes his head. It's a cute little movement, honestly, seeing a tree frog shake his head, but George forces the thought out of his mind.

"Can you switch back now?"

A third pop and Dream is sitting in front of him again, cheeks red. "I'm sorry for not telling you. I thought you would freak out and move out of Nethermire, cause of all the weird stuff and then all the stuff you weren't allowed to know about..."

"What stuff?"

"Well..." Dream trails off. "I wasn't supposed to tell you about me being a.. shapeshifter."

"Oh? And are there other things I'm not supposed to know about?" George looks very pointedly at the yellow (green? hell if he knows) eyes in front of him. "What was the thing I saw in the woods, Dream?"

"Promise not to scream? Or kill me?"

George raises an eyebrow. "How in the world would I kill you?"

"There are eight different ways I can see right now."

"How do you-"

"Nevermind that right now. Just- I know you aren't freaking out right now, but you might with this."

"Hit me with your best shot, Dream, and try to freak me out more than this stupid town already has."

There's no "transition" moment. Dream's Shifts happen in the blink of an eye; one second he's a human, and the next, he's the white leathery thing that George witnessed in the woods.

George accidentally lets out a yelp and automatically scoots back and away from Dream.

"I can talk in this form. It's my true one," Dream says quietly. "I'm really sorry for upsetting you. I would never hurt you, George, I promise you that."

"You were- you were this! The whole time! And you just let me suffer like that for weeks?"

"I'm really sorry, George, I wasn't supposed to tell you until you'd been here for more than six months." Dream Shifts back to his normal form again.

"What? Why?"

"Town rules? It's one of the ordinances. DS's flock to Nethermire so it's a rule to keep the tourists coming. Once someone normal gets comfortable, they're allowed to understand the town a little better."

"DS's?"

"Divine Souls. Basically a- well, that's a translation of what they're called in the Shifter language, but that's all the beings who aren't humans. Minor gods, demons, shifters, stuff like that. There are myths about us everywhere. Some stuff is true, some isn't."

"Gods? Demons?" George's brain feels overloaded.

"Minor gods, yeah. There are two minor gods in town, actually. Well, three if you count Phil, but no one really knows what Phil is."

"Phil is a- a Divine Soul?"

"Yeah. He won't tell anyone what he is, but he's got these beautiful wings and this ancient wisdom aura to him that everyone gets addicted to."

"And... who else?"

"Sapnap's a- well, Sapnap's a demon."

"And? I already knew that bit."

"Like an actual demon. I'm sure he would show you his form if you asked nicely."

"Alright... wait, Wilbur said you eat deer?"

"Yeah." Dream blushes. "I eat human stuff too, just... that's our... natural food."

George just nods. He's really not sure how to respond to that, honestly.

"I'm super sorry for everything."

"Hey, stop apologizing. I was gonna find out eventually, and sooner is better than later, right?" George laughs a little because the panic is finally setting in.

Dear God, Dream's a shapeshifter and Sapnap's a demon and Phil might be a god, and what the hell else is happening in this town?

The stress finally sets in.

Maybe it's the fact that Dream eats deer.

That's a weird fact.

George doesn't like it much.

He passes out.

**************

George wakes up to the sound of three familiar voices talking together quietly.

"You're a dumbass," Sapnap mutters.

"Hey, it was an accident. You know I can't control it all the time," Dream hisses.

"If you could keep it in your pants for one second-"

A slap is heard in the room... George's bedroom, it seems.

"Dream?" George asks, shifting around in the covers.

"Hey, George, how are you feeling?" Phil stands over him, looking worried.

"Fine... what happened?"

"You fainted!" Sapnap giggles.

Dream looks concerned from where he's standing beside the bed. Sapnap looks amused. Phil is looking him over.

"I- did I dream all of that?"

"No. I'm sorry, George, that was a lot of information really quickly and I should have let you process for a while." Dream's arms are crossed in front of his chest.

"It's no problem... Phil, you've got wings?"

"Yeah..." Phil trails off. "They're... they're invisible."

"Can I see them?"

"Sure." Phil pulls a small bottle of something out of his pocket and drinks the contents. A pair of gray feathered, angel-like wings appear slowly, protruding from his back and filling nearly half the room.

"Woah," George says, reaching a hand out to gently touch the wings. Phil bristles for a moment but relaxes, letting George feel out the feathers.

"Yeah. They're really convenient when I want to get places quickly."

"Cool." George feels a little dizzy again and leans back against his pillows, hoping he doesn't pass out again. "How did I get here?"

"Dream carried you," Sapnap says, still grinning, "cause he's a simp."

Dream doesn't even try to protest, just continues looking concerned.

"We should let George get some rest," Phil says. "They always need rest after the info dump."

"Can- Dream, can you stay here?" George asks, blushing.

Dream nods. "I'm really sorry, George."

"It's no problem. I still wanna kiss you."

Sapnap makes a gagging noise, rolls his eyes, and saunters out of the room. Phil follows him after giving George a gentle pat on the shin as a 'Get Well' gesture.

"Am I sick?" George asks once he and Dream are alone.

"No, no, just... normal brains can freak out when they gains a whole bunch of new information, and Nethermire has enough DS magic around it to make the reaction worse. You're not sick, just probably need a nap and some good food." Dream smiles, looking more comfortable now that George is awake and alright. "I could... you should sleep for a while and I can order us something."

George glances at the clock and sees that it's nearly 11:00 p.m. by this point. "Is anything open?"

"'Running Water' is a 24-hour place. They've got good food."

"Do they have grilled cheese?"

"A four cheese one, yeah."

"That sounds fantastic." George closes his eyes again, then opens them again. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Okay."

"I'm serious. It's all been startling, obviously, but it doesn't scare me that you're a Divine Soul and you eat deer. It's not that weird."

"It is kinda weird," Dream smiles.

"Yeah, it is weird, but also really cool. And you're really cool, Dream, so don't think I hate you now that you've turned into me while we were kissing."

"Good to hear." Dream grins, his eyes shining a little.

"And I must say that I've gotten you into my bedroom on the first date, so I must be doing something correctly."

"Go to sleep, George."

"Can I get a goodnight kiss?"

Dream sighs but steps over. George sits up a little in his bed and meets Dream's lips in the middle, glad to taste the cherries in his mouth again.

Honestly, George never wants to let go, because Dream's hand is so warm when it's clasped with his, but they do pull back. Dream gives him another quick peck and steps back, turning off the lamp on the nightstand giving George a gentle smile.

"I want french fries, too," George says as Dream steps out of the room.

"Alright."

"And don't let me sleep for too long."

"I won't."

Georgie hops onto the bed as soon as the door is closed, and George drags her into his arms, running his fingers through her fur. She settles on his chest, purring happily now that there are no intruders in the bedroom, and George falls asleep like that.

**********

George's nap is nearly two hours long, but he wakes up feeling refreshed and less like he's going to start having a panic attack.

Georgie slept on his chest the whole time, purring and drooling and generally having the time of her life. George wonders if she knows that Nethermire is weird or if she just lives through her cat days, blissfully unaware of all the strange happenings of the town.

Dream is sitting on the couch in the living room, reading George's copy of "Moby Dick" and drinking something out of a blue thermos that George doesn't recognize. He looks up with a smile when he realizes George has shuffled into the room, a blanket draped over his shoulders.

"I think this is longer than most first dates are," George says as he sits down in the lazy chair across from Dream.

"At least we have food. I picked it up 20 minutes ago and it's sitting in the oven now." Dream stands and retrieves the brown paper takeout sack from the kitchen. It smells like a greasy, delicious meal and immediately makes George's mouth water.

"What'd you get?" George asks as Dream pulls food from the bag. He hands George the grilled cheese sandwich in a white takeout box, a box of parmesan fries, and a giant cup full of Dr. Pepper, and George thinks he might be in love with this man.

"An elk burger," Dream replies, pulling everything of his out as well.

"Do the raw deer not do it for you?"

Dream chuckles, unwrapping a magnificent-looking burger. "Yeah, the ticks really make the meat pop but I'd rather go for blue cheese on stuff any day."

"Blue cheese?"

"Yep." Dream holds up the burger proudly. George swears it has to be magic some way as well because nothing is dripping down the sides and it looks like a burger straight out of a stock photo. "Blue cheese, lettuce, bacon, cheddar, tomato, and amazing deliciousness. It's based on the Captain Neon Burger at McMenamins, which I love, but there's no McMenamins in Southern Oregon, so I just get this instead."

"What's McMenamins?"

"A chain of restaurants and brewpubs that are FANTASTIC. They're all over Oregon and Washington."

"Really?" George raises an eyebrow. He hasn't been to many brewpubs before, and honestly, Dream doesn't seem like the kind of person to visit brewpubs at all.

"Yes, really! My parents always bring us there when we head up to Eugene and Portland and everything."

George is completely lost, having no idea where the other cities might be located, but Dream looks excited and a good burger does sound nice. "I'd like to go sometime."

"Next weekend you're free, we should drive to Eugene and get a burger. It would be hella fun."

They talk and eat for a long time. George thinks it's the best grilled cheese he's ever had, and it's amazing to be able to just talk with Dream for a while.

Neither of them are quite sure how it happens, but George falls asleep on Dream's chest, snuggled into his warmth. He hasn't slept next to anyone in a while, and despite the fact they're not 'sleeping together' sleeping together, it feels intimate and fantastic.

Get you a man who turns into you when you kiss and then buys you a grilled cheese.

Chapter Text

"Lust demon?!"

"Yes! Fire, lust, the works!"

"Sapnap, what the hell?"

"What? It's what I am." Sapnap leans against the porch railing, grinning like a maniac. "If you weren't so wrapped up in my best friend, I would definitely give you a taste of the sugar."

"That's disgusting." George frowns and leans a fraction closer to Dream's chest.

Since they first kissed three days ago, Dream has barely left his side, though George is far from complaining. Dream is warm, nearly as warm as Sapnap, and with the ever-present uncertainty about his coastal surroundings, George is glad to have the protection from things that might scare him.

"He's always had people falling all over him," Dream muses, bringing a hand up to run it through George's hair. "Pheremones or something like that."

"Still gross." George sighs into the feeling of Dream's hand. "So do you have a 'true form' like Dream does or are you just some nerd who allegedly has demon powers?"

"It's not as simple as your boyfriend when it comes to switching, but I suppose I can show you one thing... do you have a piece of paper?"

"Yeah, one sec." George dips into the house for a moment (much to Dream's annoyance by the frown on his face), finds a loose piece of computer paper, and hands it to Sapnap.

"Thanks, Georgie," Sapnap says, and the paper goes up in flames in under two seconds. One moment it's there, there's a burst of fire, and then there are floaty pieces of ash in Sapnap's palm. "See? Easy stuff."

"Come on, Sap, just show him the teeth," Dream says.

"Are you sure?" Sapnap glances up at the blond with an eyebrow raised. "Don't want him passing out on us again."

"He won't. Come on, do it."

"Fine."

Before George can ask anything about what they're talking about, Sapnap's mouth fills with flames and his teeth sharpen into tight black points. George's eyes widen in surprise, especially because one of the flames escapes the barrier of Sapnap's lips and gets dangerously close to singed-eyebrows distance.

"There." Sapnap coughs out a cloud of smoke before making the fire disappear again. "I could do more but I'm not allowed to burn down any more buildings, so that'll be a no."

"You could go stand in the ocean," Dream suggests.

"And freeze my feet off? Hell no." Sapnap glances down at his watch, then looks back up at the two men in front of him. "I'm off, though, I've got a date with my incredible boyfriends."

"Bring them here at some point," George says. "I'd like to meet them."

"Alrighty, sweetheart, I can do that." Sapnap leans forward, presses a kiss to George's cheek, and slaps Dream's ass. "See you lovebirds tomorrow."

"Bye, Snapmap!" Dream says with a playful ruffle of black hair.

"So, what are we doing when he's gone?" George asks once they're both inside again, splayed across the couch. He's practically laying atop Dream, snuggled into his chest and listening to the unsteady beating of his heart (apparently, shapeshifter hearts don't work the same as human hearts, but Dream didn't go too far into that).

"Well, I can think of a few things to pass the time..." Dream says with the hint of a joke in his words.

"Dream!"

"What? I was talking about getting food or going on a hike or something."

"Not with those eyebrows, you weren't."

"Come on, Georgie," Dream murmurs, voice dropping to a whisper. "You say that like you don't want it."

"Dream, honey, it's not the time. We've barely known each other two months and only kissed what, three days ago?" George props himself up, looks right into Dream's eyes. "I want to take this slow."

"Fine with me." Dream leans forward and presses a kiss to the tip of George's nose. "Go on a hike with me, then?"

"Sleep for 20 minutes, then a hike."

Dream is intoxicatingly, unfairly warm (it has to be a shapeshifter thing), and George is asleep within seconds of suggesting the nap.

He's woken up an hour and a half later by Dream, who has been rubbing circles on his back the whole time, and only growls a little bit that they're losing daylight after his extended slumber. Dream just kisses him though, which makes George forget about ever being mad in the first place, and so they set out in Dream's Subaru for a path that winds through the redwoods and ends on a private beach.

George usually feels nervous in the dark. He's not quite sure why; maybe it's because he's small enough that he couldn't necessarily defend against attackers. Dream, though, Dream makes him feel safe as they walk side by side, hands clasped together and swinging between them. George points out the prettier ferns and lillies that he likes, and Dream nods along, grins when he grins, makes sure to add in little comments about native and nonnative greenery so George can learn a little about the surrounding ecosystem. It's essentially a date, strolling through the forest together, and George loves it.

Loves it until the tree canopy lets in so little light that he can barely see anymore and weird things start happening.

"Dream?" George murmurs, being snapped out of the peaceful aura that's fallen over the pair because of something he just heard. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Dream asks.

"I heard a- I don't know, it sounded like a howl."

"It was probably-" Dream stops because there it is again, a whistling, howling cry flying through the trees. It seems ghostly and sad and George feels that fear returning even though he has Dream by his side.

"Dream, I want to go back," George whispers, hand gripping maybe a little too tightly to Dream's.

"I'm sure it's fine..." Dream trails off, and when George looks up at him, he's sure he can see a little bit of anxiety in his features as well. "Let's get out of here, though."

They turn around and start walking a little faster than before; a stride rather than a saunter. George feels a little nervous, hand still gripped tight to Dream, and Dream has him close, snuggled almost right into his side. Walking so close together should be difficult but it's not... maybe Dream has changed his body somehow so it's easier to perform such an action.

George feels safer, but not completely safe.

The howling sound happens again, louder and closer this time, and George wonders how far they are from the head of the trail, from the safety of the Subaru. It's getting darker, what with the evening sun falling behind the crest of the ocean and the trees shielding them from the little light there is left now, and George can't really see anymore, doesn't know where they're going, just holds tight to Dream and hopes that they'll get to the car in time.

They round a corner and-

And they stop, because a black and white cloud is hanging just above the trail, maybe halfway between the ground and the lowest branches of the trees above, and George can feel that it's watching them despite not having a face or eyes or a solid shape.

"Dream?" George whispers, suddenly holding very still. He feels like a deer in the headlights, like the cloud of black and white has paralyzed him, stuck his feet to the dirt so he'll never leave.

"Hold still," Dream whispers back.

There's the howl again, and it comes from the cloud, the thing in front of them, a melancholy sound that would have George's heart wrenching if he wasn't so deathly terrified of it.

Then it's gone.

The black and white cloud drifts off into the trees, almost at a leisurely pace, and George doesn't feel paralyzed anymore.

The car isn't even a hundred feet in front of them, sitting unharmed in the parking lot like nothing had just occurred in the woods.

George is shaking, coming down from the adrenaline high, and Dream just shoves them into the backseat of the car and holds him close, lets George bury his head in his chest and shake.

"What was that?" George asks, hands holding onto the blue fabric of Dream's sweater. He never wants to let go.

"I'm not sure, it... I've seen it before, last week when I was hunting, but it- it passed through me then, and I just felt this horrible sadness. There's no books on such a creature anywhere, and nobody else has gotten a good enough look at it to tell me what it is." One of Dream's hands is threaded through George's hair. "You don't have to worry about it, though, I won't let it hurt you."

They drive back to Dream's house because it's further away and a little bigger, and George falls asleep in Dream's arms, covered up by heavy blankets and the safety of inside.

The last thought George has before he falls asleep is a question.

Is that the thing that's been stealing the people? Is that what Wilbur and everyone else is afraid of?

Chapter Text

When George asks if he can get a ride from Phil to the other side of town, because he still hasn't bought a car and Sapnap is busy and he's supposed to be meeting Dream, he doesn't expect to grab onto the man's back and soar through the air so quickly that they're landing in front of the cafe in less than two minutes.

Phil's wings are strong and gray with beautiful, thick feathers and the smoothest flaps George has ever seen from such appendages. They seem almost like angel's wings if angels existed, but Phil says they're closest to those of a Great Horned Owl beside the coloring. It explains why they flap so quietly, so smoothly; George would be worried about being snuck up on by the man if they weren't friends.

It seems like the only 'normal' people in town are Tommy and Tubbo, though Tommy seems to sometimes be in two places at once and Tubbo has the inexplicable smell of honey and sweet peas on him at all times, even if they're all getting wafted with campfire smoke or being cleansed by the crisp air flowing over the Pacific.

Wilbur continues to attempt to employ George and find the thing in the woods, but all George knows is that Dream was the thing he saw and he's of no help. More than once, George has seen Wilbur skirting the edges of the woods with a pair of binoculars and his trenchcoat wrapped tightly around him, watching for oddities and doing generally sneaky things, and George tries to steer clear as best he can.

The tea he was given by Mayor Bad and Assistant Mayor Skeppy was a sleeping agent, made to shut George up with his crying. Crying when the sun's out makes bad things happen in Nethermire, makes the storms stronger and the winds harsher, though George has yet to learn what those bad things are caused by.

"So, Georgie, what if we went on a monster hunt?" Sapnap asks one afternoon. He, George, Karl, Quackity, and Dream are all stretched out on the floor of Karl's giant living room, taking turns on the low-quality X-Box Spiderman game up on the TV.

"Monster hunt? Just because I'm a regular human doesn't mean I want to go hunt monsters." George rolls into Dream's chest a little more, burying as much of his face into the soft hoodie fabric as he can before it muffles his words. "Got enough monsters right here."

"Yeah, but not the fun kind that lives in the woods and scares the shit out of everyone in town," Quackity pipes up. Last George checked, it's his turn on the controller. "Come on, let's go and have some fun?"

"You all are enough fun, I promise that," George says, breathing in the salty scent of his boyfriend. One of Dream's arms wraps protectively around his shoulders, practically pulling George on top of his chest. "Lust demon, harpy thing, teleporter, shapeshifter, regular human, that's plenty."

"I'm not a harpy," Quackity points out.

"Then what are you? Cause you have a lot of bird characteristics," Karl says.

"Hybrid of some sort. Probably a duck or another type of waterfowl, can't be too sure."

"See? All the weirdness I need." George breathes out a happy sigh as Dream begins running a hand through his hair. "I'll just stay in here, thank you."

Eventually, though, Dream basically carries him out of the door and into the woods behind Karl's house. They connect to a massive redwood reserve on the outskirts of town, meaning they're also close to the spot where Dream and George encountered the black and white smoke on their walk together not even three weeks prior.

"This is a bad idea," George voices as they begin their tromp through the forest. There's no clear path, just places to step that have no ferns or mud patches, and it's making George incredibly nervous that they won't be able to get home.

"I'm good with directions, baby, don't worry. Know these woods like the back of my hand." Dream threads their fingers together, mirroring what Karl, Sapnap, and Quackity have already done, and begins to pull George along, dodging trees and glancing around at the forest. "It'll be fine."

"This is the worst idea," George grumbles as Dream carefully maneuvers them around a particularly stocky redwood. "Every time we come out in the woods we almost get attacked, and all I wanna do tonight is cuddle."

"We'll cuddle when we get back, promise." George swears Dream's eyes flicker out for a moment as he speaks. "It's fine, we've got this."

"Guys!" Karl hisses, stopping the group and pointing in front of them with his free hand (Sapnap has opted to be in the middle of the hand-holding). "Look, behind the trees, see that?"

It takes a second to make out, but they do see it, just behind a group of thick-trunked trees and tall ferns. It's the black and white cloud that Dream and George saw previously, floating a foot off the ground, and George can sense that it's watching them despite having no visible eyes.

"What is it?" Quackity asks, barely a breath to get his words across.

"Monster," Dream whispers back. He's solid and tall, holding tightly (almost possessively) to George's hand. "It's tried to follow me when I'm in True Form before."

"Do you think it's behind all the town disappearances?" George asks.

"I'm sure of it, yes. I've seen it lead people out here, especially younger people, then fly off with them into the woods. I'm... I'm scared of it, I must admit."

"Let's follow it!" Sapnap suggests.

"What?" George hisses. "No! As a human, I'm saying no to that."

"You have a big, strong boyfriend to protect you, Human George," Karl giggles. "Come on, it'll be fun, and if it doesn't work out, I'll stop us from going."

"You can't use your time powers to get us out of everything, baby," Quackity says, reaching around Sapnap to affectionately hit Karl upside the back of his head. "Whatever happens, happens."

"You can't prove that I won't! Come on, I know exactly how this night is gonna go with whatever decision we make. And not to make any spoilers, but we'll be alive and cuddled together in our own bed when the night is finished, so George, don't worry that we're going to die."

George scoffs at Karl's words, still feeling very apprehensive about the whole situation, but Dream's hand is tight in his and he feels protected enough around four Beings that he'll be fine.

It's fine, right?

Dream, to his credit, is remarkably stealthy even in Human Form despite his height and gangly limbs. He knows exactly where to step to make no noise as he moves, can weave around trees and make himself hidden behind the thinnest trunks (though George is pretty sure that's because he's making himself slimmer on purpose).

He carefully pulls George along, who tries his best to mimic Dream's movements but ultimately fails. Thankfully, though, the cloud doesn't turn around (a term used loosely) as it floats gently through the woods, seemingly going through every bush and fern it passes.

"Where do you think it's going?" Sapnap asks after they've been following the cloud for nearly 10 minutes.

"I'm not sure, but it's going more in-land." Quackity is nearly walking on George's heels but it doesn't matter, they're all too focused on the thing they're tailing.

Another 10 minutes later, the cloud disappears behind a tall tree and doesn't come out. It surprises George, though he's accepted the idea that Nethermire has little portals and spots where things are bigger on the inside than the outside.

And it's one of those spots, because as they turn around the trunk, a house is revealed. It's a rundown building covered in ivy and moss, its boards grayed and worn from years of being subjected to the harsh and salty coastal wind.

"Have you been here before, baby?" Sapnap asks as they stand in surprise, gawking at the house.

"No, I didn't know this existed. It's not on any maps or anything, but who can trust maps in this area?" Karl peers over George's shoulder, leaning in close to get a better look at the home. "I can't sense it, either, it's- it's not part of this plane or the one above it."

"See? This is why I didn't want to follow the cloud thing. Because we're staring at a nonexistent house, contemplating going in there and discovering what the hell the cloud thing is, and you don't think this is dangerous?" George is nearly behind Dream at this point, slightly more terrified than he probably should be.

"Yeah, well, live life dangerously, Georgie," Sapnap says, pulling his boyfriends toward the front door of the house.

Quackity is the one who knocks on the door, George staying at the end of the line of people. They hear something moving around in the house, footsteps rather than anything else, and George clings to the back of Dream's sweatshirt.

"Hello?" The door opens, revealing a remarkably tall young man in a suit and...

"Tubbo? What are you doing here?" Sapnap asks.

"Hi!" The mayor's assistant waves to the group in front of him.

"How did you find this place?" The tall man asks.

"We saw this weird cloud of smoke and followed it?" Quackity says helpfully.

"Oh! That's just Ranboo, he was trying to go out and make some new friends! This is Ranboo, guys, he's my friend!" Tubbo seems peppy; Ranboo seems nervous.

"Hi," Ranboo says with a half-hearted wave.

"You're the cloud?" Dream asks.

"And you're the thing I keep seeing in the woods! I've been trying to come over and make friends but you're kind of intimidating." Ranboo blushes as he looks at Dream. "Sorry for scaring you two the other day, I didn't mean to."

"It's okay, it's nice to meet you!" Dream steps forward, gently shakes Ranboo's hand.

"Hi, human," Ranboo says, looking right at George. "You probably can't see me properly right now, sorry about that."

"It's- it's fine," George chokes out.

"Yeah, sorry for scaring everyone. I don't mean to, it's just hard to control my powers sometimes. Tubbo's been helping, he's nice."

"Besides, it's easier out here in the woods to take care of my bees!" Tubbo says happily.

When George sees assorted honeybees crawling through Tubbo's hair, he stops trying to be scared and realizes he's the minority by far in this group.

"So, do you guys want to come in for tea?" Ranboo asks. He's practically cowering behind Tubbo despite being nearly two feet taller than the boy, and the comicality of it all eases George's nerves.

"We'd love to!"

*******************

Dear Mom and Dad,

I might just move to Nethermire at this point permanently, study English and get a teaching degree at the community college. I've heard good reviews from my friends; despite being small, it's one of the best colleges in the whole state.

I've got a proper boyfriend now, surprisingly. His name is Dream and I'll definitely be bringing him home for Christmas. I think you're going to like him; despite him not being as rich as some of the others you've wanted me to marry, he's a gentleman and a sweetheart and will surely steal you over before you can decide to hate him.

Thank you for continuing to pay for my house. I will be earning income once I graduate from college, but that's not happening yet. You are good parents to me and I'm excited to detail my time living here better when we have the chance to call or even talk in person.

My book is going better than you'd expect; it's actually based on my time here in Nethermire. I hope to make it a best-seller once I'm done with it. A sci-fi horror book is something one doesn't see enough of these days; maybe I'll become the next Stephen King someday. Then will you be proud of me?

See you in two months for Christmas time. I'll be bringing Dream and I promise that you're going to absolutely love him. Enclosed is a picture of the two of us on the beach in front of my house. Be happy I got a picture of him. He's got a habit of moving his face so it appears blurry in photographs.

Hope all the family is doing well and you don't miss me too much.

Much love,

George