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Dream was losing it all. His power, his friends, his soldiers, he lover. Fundy had never exactly been on his side, but he thought that he loved him enough to let it go. After the stunt that was pulled during the wedding, it seemed... Fundy had lost the will to let those feelings hold him back. Rightfully so, but regardless. It was one more person that slipped through the cracks. Even Sapnap had turned his back to him. Chosen to fight for L'Manberg. Once, he had been his closest friend, and... now what? He had nothing left. As much as his care for the server and what was inside of it was gone, so was his power leaving, too. There was only one person left that might listen.
He stood outside of George's cottage, a trembling hand been raised to knock at the wood for about a minute. They hadn't spoken since the wedding. Neither of them really knew what to say. George was a neutral force in this war. A powerful, neutral force. If that power could be swayed his way, he might just have a chance. It's worth a shot. He closed his eyes, letting his fist hit strike against the wood two times. The sound echoed through the silent hills, and Dream swallowed dryly. He knew George was in there, he could see his nametag lurking behind the closed door. But that nametag hadn't moved. He wondered if he'd even heard him. His lips parted to speak, and they fell shut again. What if George didn't want to see him? Rightfully so, as well; he did... dethrone him. He had to try. He had to. He valued their friendship, their relationship more than political power of war. Regardless of if George sided with him, he needed to make up with him. This was just the best excuse. Finally, his lips parted again. "George?" His own voice sounded illegal and foreign in the stark silence. "Can... can we talk?"
It fell back into silence for longer than Dream could bear. He could see George's nametag moving about ever so slightly. He knew that he heard him, knew that he, too, was debating. A quiet "please?" was thrown in by Dream to sweeten the deal, his nails curling against his gloved palms. Come on, George. Come on.
Finally, the wooden door creaked open. George's eyes were cast down at the grass, Dream being eye-to-eye with the rims of his goggles. He let out a soft breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "George..."
"Don't," his voice was chopped and shaken. "Don't say my name in that sweet tone. What do you want from me, Dream? Why are you here?"
Dream felt his heart sink in his chest. "I came because I... wanted to talk to you. About, uh... the upcoming war."
"The war you started out of boredom and a power complex?" George's gaze rose to meet his own, and Dream was taken by surprise of the icy coldness in his gaze. "And you've now come crawling to me because you're realizing that you can't finish what you started?"
Dream scoffed, glancing away and shifting his weight between his feet. "Why are you so pissed at me?" He snapped, "what did I do? Other than dethrone you? I know your power didn't mean that much to you, George. You couldn't give a damn about being 'king'. So what are you really upset about?"
It was George's time to glance aside, shoulders slumping. "What do you think, Dream?" His voice came out softer. Sadder. Desperate. "I risked everything for you. I know you didn't love him. I gave you an out. Gave you a chance to take what you wanted. You left. You left them to come after me. You left me to the hounds."
"Actually, a fox, and a few less-than-mighty humans," Dream offered with the tiniest of smiles, trying to lighten the mood. George didn't smile, and Dream's quickly dropped with a sigh. "I'm- I'm sorry. How should I have reacted? I was ready to give my life up, George. I thought we were through, thought there was no chance--"
"That's just it!" George cut him off, leaning against the doorframe with a bitter laugh. "You decide things for me, all the time. You think you're some.. some.. god, that's in control of everything! You make decisions for yourself, for other people, without considering their emotions! Dream, I was ready to risk it all! I was ready to give my life up to follow you, to- to be with you! And look where it got me. Alone."
A long stretch of silence between the two of them, and Dream's gaze fell down in shame. "...I thought you'd be better off without me," he murmured. "I still stand by it. If I never showed up, this wouldn't be happening. You wouldn't be this hurt."
"Don't you get it, you dense dumbass?" George's voice rose. "I'm hurt, because I fucking loved you! I loved you so much it nearly killed me--you ran away, and now you're trying to get me back just so I can stroke your ego and win a war that doesn't matter to me, or to you! It's all just a power-play with you Dream, everything is! Was that all I was?"
The world stopped turning. Dream's head snapped up to look at him. "George, don't-"
"Was it all I was, Clay?" George seethed, face red with embarrassment. "Just another piece in your game? A step on the ladder to your climb to the top? Was I foolish to think that you cared about me? You don't care about anything. You've said it yourself. That should've told me all I needed to know."
The door began to close. "So no, I won't help you, Clay. Win or lose, I don't care. I want no part of it."
Dream stopped the door with his arm, giving George a desperate look. "George please, hear me out. Let me speak."
George's back was still turned, holding the doorknob in a white-knuckled grip. A beat of silence passed between them, before Dream took a shuddering breath. "Promise me you'll listen."
"...I promise."
"Those nights... mean more to me than anything in this server," Dream began shakily. "That's what.. that's what I meant. When I said those things, when I said I didn't care about anyone else, you have to understand that I... I meant nothing material. The only things I cared about, George, were the nights spent together. Us against the world. Sitting on a bench, gazing out at the stars, watching the sun rise, far away from the rest of the world... away from the drama, away from the politics, away from the war... just us. Those moments were so, so real. I know you felt it," Dream's green eyes stared forward into George's heterochrome orbs. "I know you felt the tension. I know you know I wanted you. You pulled back. You were scared. I let you," Dream shifted the weight between his feet again, "I let you pull back, I let you have space. I didn't pressure you to find an answer, because I wanted to be sure it was real. Fundy happened out of my control. What was I supposed to do? I..." He sighed.
"I fucked up, George. I know. And you're completely right, I didn't love him. Every time we spoke, every time I made him laugh, every kiss, every hug, every breath spent with him... it wasn't him, George, it was you," Dream clenched his fists. "I wanted it to be you. So badly."
"So why did you run?" George whispered. "Why didn't you go after me?"
"I was scared. I had already resigned myself to living unhappily with Fundy, I thought I.. didn't... deserve you. I thought you didn't care enough to come after me. I didn't know what you wanted, George. I didn't know if you wanted me to go after you, or if you just wanted to make a final stand," Dream slowly rose his gaze to look at him. "I loved you. And I just wanted you to be comfortable with or without me. But if I could do it all over again, fuck, if I could redo one thing in my life... I would've never let you go, George."
The last sentence was a whisper, yet even still the words hung in the air. Finally, George spoke. "And this war, Clay... what's that really for? Really?"
"Anger," He admitted with a helpless shrug. "The satisfaction of physically seeing something be more fucked up than our relationship. More fucked up and destroyed than the only thing that actually mattered to me. A sick sense of karma, to destroy the only thing they love, like I destroyed mine. It- it seemed fair," he rubbed his arm, looking back down. "And why are you here? Why are you asking for my help, Dream? I know you have Technoblade on your side. I know you have the means to win this fight without me. So why do you want my help?"
"Because, I... I want to win with you again," Dream murmured softly. "I wanna see the giddy joy in your eyes again. When we won, I wanted you to hug me, to fling your arms around me and laugh into my shoulder. I wanted to be victorious with you again."
Another long silence.
George took a small step forward, and when Dream lifted his head to speak, he was cut off by a soft breath across his lips. George's eyes stared into his own, and a hand gently took his gloved one, pressing a gentle kiss to his exposed fingers. "You always have me, Dream. Always have. I wanted to hate you, but I couldn't bring myself to," he whispered, his eyes trailing down to Dream's lips. "I just want you."
Dream's heart skipped a beat, and he intertwined his fingers with George's, before leaning forward himself, only an inch apart. "You already have me, you dumbass. You have more power over me than anything in this stupid server. One look sends me reeling," his hand crept up to cup the nape of George's neck. "One touch brings me to my knees."
"Then what'll this do?" George gave a small smirk, so small it seemed fragile. As if any sudden movement would cause it to shatter again.
When he pressed his lips against Dream's, the world fell away. The war, the fear, the pain, the anguish, it melted away. Dream pulled him closer by the hips, closing his eyes tightly. He couldn't tell you how long they stood there. He didn't care. For the first time in a long time, everything felt okay. He didn't feel lost anymore.
When they pulled away, Dream's lungs were burning, and George was panting against his skin. Dream's eyes flickered across his face, soaking up the pink on his cheeks, the reddened lips, his sparkling eyes, his soft hair. Dream reached down, giving his hand a squeeze. "Let's do this the right way this time," he said with a tiny smile.
George let out a soft laugh, slumping against the taller male and closing his eyes. He felt Dream's arms wrap around him, and he let out a sigh, smile never leaving his lips. "When it's with you, it's never too wrong."