Archive of Our Own

It wasn’t something he was originally planning to go through with.

George didn’t particularly want to go back to his home, or the place he once called home. He was content with leaving that part of his life behind. He was fine with not seeing any of it ever again. He was fine with not seeing Dream ever again. Life had been so much easier while he was away.

After Dream had forced him off the throne as quickly as he put him there, George needed to get away. He had gone traveling alone for a few weeks to distance himself from the chaos that was the fight over L’Manburg, and the freedom from his responsibilities was liberating. Eventually, he settled in a distant field and tried to ignore the hollow feeling in his chest. He built himself a rickety little cabin and filled his space with flowers. If he favored roses, a certain someone’s favorite flower, he chose to ignore it.

It was never meant to last, though. Soon enough, his guilt got the best of him and he forced himself to return to the place he once called home—for Sapnap’s sake. He couldn’t leave his best friend alone after everything that had happened. But the world he returned to was nothing like the one he left behind.

In place of L’Manburg, there was a crater so deep George could barely see the bottom. The Community House, his first real home, was nothing more than the foundation it had been built on and a few crumbling walls.

The first time he saw it, George could do little more than stare in shock. He placed his leather backpack on the ground and took a cautious step forward, the oak planks of the bridge creaking ominously under his weight. Sapnap appeared from within the structure with a bucket in his hands and stared back at George. After a few beats, he put down the bucket and rushed forward, pulling George in for a hug.

“I was starting to think you were dead! Oh, I hate you so much. Where did you go, you lunatic? Why didn’t you say something before you left? Jesus Christ.” Sapnap paused to breathe and softened his tone. He seemed to have noticed George’s distressed state. “Don’t you ever leave me like that again.”

George wrapped his arms around the boy and nodded weakly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” Sapnap muttered in reply, “just don’t do it again. Too much happened while you were gone, dude.”

George held on tighter, the black hair of the other tickling his nose. “Tell me what happened. Please.”

Sapnap carefully pulled away and gestured for George to follow him towards the Community House. George stepped around the gaps formed by missing planks and stood in front of the structure in shock. The sight was even worse up close. There was a pile of rubble in one corner with sheets of broken glass and cracked bricks.

“It was a lot worse before,” Sapnap commented, voice strained with nonchalance, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. “It was almost completely gone. I just finished replacing the floor the other day.”

“Have you been doing this alone?” George asked.

“Mostly, but Bad helped out a few times. He’s been, uh, preoccupied with some other stuff recently, though.”

George looked down at the brown and orange patterned floor he was standing on. It was just as ugly as it had been before, but it was clearly new. He glanced back up to see Sapnap standing in front of him with wide eyes, the bucket once again held tightly against his white shirt. Inside, a small fish was swimming lazily.

“Mars,” He explained softly.

“Mars,” George parroted in confusion.

“Tommy found him for me so I would fight with him against… against Dream.” His voice cracked on the name and he turned away sharply. “I’m making an aquarium for him! Beckerson too. It’ll be inside the staircase.”

George nodded numbly. “How did this happen, Sapnap?”

“Well, we all thought it was Tommy at first. We thought he did it to hurt everyone for letting him be sent away in exile. It wasn’t, though.” Sapnap walked over to a partially rebuilt wall and gazed over it in the direction of the L’Manburg ruins, one hand gripping the top of the half-wall tightly. “It was Dream. Dream destroyed our home.”

George blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. A part of him expected the answer, but it hurt to have his suspicions confirmed. “What about L’Manburg?”

Sapnap turned towards him and met his gaze with watery eyes. “You saw that.”

“Yeah.”

“That was Dream, too,” Sapnap replied quietly. “With Techno’s help.”

George’s knees felt weak, but he fought to stay upright. Neither of them even cared for L’Manburg—they’d fought to strip the nation of its power, after all—yet the knowledge that Dream was willing to destroy it all in the name of gaining power left George’s heart aching.

Sapnap choked on a sob and clung on to his bucket even tighter. George went to his side and pulled him into another hug. It was a little awkward with the bucket between them, but Sapnap melted into him anyway and let out another broken sob. George ran his hand through Sapnap’s dark hair comfortingly as the younger buried his face in George’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to be mad at you,” Sapnap forced out with a hiccup. “I don’t want to be mad. But it hurt so much and I was completely alone.”

“I wish I could’ve stopped him,” George said weakly. “I wish I stayed.”

“Me too,” Sapnap replied. He met George’s gaze and quickly looked away. His eyes were rimmed with red and tears were streaming down his face. “I think he was too far gone even before you left. I… I was worried he drove you to the edge.”

George let his arms drop. He swallowed against the lump forming in his throat and asked, “Where is he now?”

Sapnap turned his gaze to the fish in his arms and scrubbed his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “Prison.”

“Prison?”

“They call it Pandora’s Vault. Sam and Dream, I mean. They built it together. Dream planned on putting Tommy inside, I think.” Sapnap let out a watery laugh and sniffled. “Motherfucker was put in his own prison.”

George swallowed thickly. He felt sick. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he said feebly.

Sapnap nodded in understanding. “Okay, but you need to explain everything later. I think I deserve at least that. Help me rebuild?”

“Of course,” George replied immediately. “I’ll go grab my gloves.”

He stood up carefully and left to retrieve his brown bag. The white goggles perched on his head were placed inside the bag and a pair of leather fingerless gloves were removed. He rarely wore them, but they were broken in well by their previous owner. Bright green eyes and dirty blond hair filled George’s mind as his fingers ghosted over the soft material.

George pulled himself up a wooden ladder, following Dream up the side of a tall stone tower they were scaling. He paused to catch his breath and risked a glance down to the grassy land below. They were very high up. It was a good thing that he didn’t have a fear of heights. Turning his attention back to the ladder, George realized his companion was already at the top.

“Hurry up!” Dream called down with a smile. The wind ruffled his golden hair and the white mask resting over his eyes and nose reflected the dying beams of late afternoon sun.

“I’m going,” George yelled back. He pulled himself up a little faster, the movement of his hands and feet far too careless for the height, but he didn’t really care.

Dream braced his arms on the handles of the ladder and leaned down to stare at George with a stupidly wide grin. “Good thing you’re not a speedrunner. You’re always so slow at everything, Georgie.”

George glared up at Dream and repressed the smile that always threatened to take over his lips when he was around the other. He reached for a rung a little too high up and immediately retracted his hand with a hiss of pain. Looking down at his throbbing hand, he realized he had a thick splinter stuck in the fleshy base of his thumb.

Dream leaned dangerously over the edge to better inspect the scene below him. He pushed the white mask to the top of his head and squinted with a frown. “What happened?”

“Nothing, just got a stupid splinter,” George quickly replied. He gingerly continued his climb up.

Dream moved to the side and waited for George to finish the climb. Once George was safely at the top, Dream carefully grabbed his injured hand by the wrist and pulled George close. Turning the hand palm up, he ran a finger over the offending splinter and gently pulled it free.

George tensed at the pain and screwed his eyes shut. Luckily, it was a shallow splinter, so it didn’t hurt too bad. He heard Dream gently shush him and met his gaze.

“There, it’s gone,” Dream said quietly, his voice just above a whisper. While holding eye contact, he pulled George’s hand up to his lips and kissed it tenderly.

The action left George burning all over. He laughed softly and shifted his hand so he could link fingers with Dream. They stared at each other for a moment, and George felt weightless.

“You know, you wouldn’t hurt your hands so much if you just got some gloves like mine,” Dream commented. His voice had gone low and gravely.

George scoffed, fighting the blush coating his cheeks. “Those limit dexterity.”

“That’s why they’re fingerless, you idiot.” Dream let out a bark of laughter.

George rolled his eyes fondly. “Whatever, I don’t have the time to break in a new pair of gloves. They’ll cause more blisters than they’re worth.”

Dream unlinked their fingers and put the palms of George’s hands together before encasing them with his own. George let out a slow breath. God, he loved how Dream’s hands were so much bigger than his.

“We need to keep your pretty little hands safe, George.” Dream’s voice had gone low again, the sound almost a growl.

It sent a shiver down George’s spine.

“I’m not some delicate flower, you know. I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.” The words fell weakly from his mouth.

“I know,” Dream hummed. He leaned down until their noses were almost touching. “I can’t help it if I want to keep what matters most to me safe.”

George tilted his head up ever so slightly. He could feel every exhale Dream let out from his nose. “I’m that important to you?”

“Oh come on now, don’t act like you don’t know.”

Suddenly, Dream pulled away. The sharp movement left George dumbfounded. Dream retracted his hands and removed his gloves. He placed them in George’s hands, which were still limply held up between the two.

“What are you doing?”

Dream smirked. “They’re fingerless, so they won’t ‘limit dexterity’ like you said. Plus, they’re already broken in. No more excuses.”

George slipped the gloves into the back pocket of his jeans. “And what if I don’t wear them? What will you do?”

Dream glowered down at him, causing George to smile smugly. Dream grasped George’s chin with a rough hand and forced him to hold eye contact. With the other hand, he gripped George’s hip. He leaned down, returning them to the intimate position they were previously in.

“Why can’t you just do as you’re told?” Dream questioned quietly.

“It’s fun to rile you up,” George replied in an equally quiet tone.

Dream smirked and brought them even closer together. All George had to do was lean in slightly. Yet, he waited.

“You like misbehaving?”

George hummed in agreement.

“Shame.”

Dream took a step back and smiled innocently. He turned around and walked to the edge of the tower. George watched as he sat down and swung his legs past the railing that circled the top of the tower.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Dream!”

“What?” Dream called over his shoulder. He was leaning back on his hands and smiling, the action carefree. “Are you gonna come watch the sunset with me or was the trip over here completely pointless?”

“Dream,” George whined. “Why would you do that?”

Dream let out a wheezy laugh. “Do you want something, George?”

George turned away from Dream with a huff to hide the way his blush had deepened. “You know what I want.”

Dream stood up and slowly walked over to George until he was right behind him. He reached out and placed his arms loosely around the other’s waist. George slowly turned around, but stared intently at the strings of Dream’s green hoodie.

“All you have to do is ask, you know.”

George hummed and pouted slightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dream replied. He tilted George’s chin up and ran a finger over his bottom lip. “So tell me, George, what do you want?”

This time, George didn’t wait. He reached up and pulled Dream down by the collar of his hoodie and their lips met not-so gently. Dream pulled him in closer. A quiet moan escaped George, but he didn’t care. When he pulled away, he was smiling.

“You’re an asshole, you know,” George said without a trace of hostility in his voice.

“You love me anyway,” Dream shot back.

“Do I?” George laughed and pulled Dream back down until their lips met softly. It didn’t seem to matter how many times they kissed or how far they went, each intimate moment between the two still left George soaring in the clouds.

And he loved every second of it.

“Are you helping or what?” Sapnap called out impatiently.

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming,” George called back.

He took in a deep breath and pulled the backpack onto his shoulders, exhaling slowly in a poor attempt to clear his head. The memory was many months old, yet his skin burned like it happened just moments earlier. He still remembered the way Dream’s hands felt on his skin, palms rough from the daily tasks he would do, a sharp contrast to the softness that was George. He still missed the projects they would work on together in comfortable silence. He still longed for the days before Tommy and Tubbo and Wilbur stumbled upon their little corner of the world and decided to establish the nation that would cause countless wars.

He still wished Dream never broke.

He could reminisce on better times another day, though. There was work to be done. He dutifully walked back to the Community House and got to work.

If Sapnap recognized the slightly too big gloves George was wearing, he didn’t mention it.

“Does anyone else know you’re back?” Sapnap asked once they settled into a steady rhythm of work.

“Doubt it,” George replied shortly.

“People will find out eventually, though. They’ll ask questions, make demands.”

“I know.”

“Are you gonna visit him?” Sapnap questioned.

George sighed. “I said I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Sorry,” Sapnap muttered.

George observed Sapnap for a moment and gave in. “Maybe,” he said after a beat.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

They worked in silence for a while after that. Too much was wrong with their world for them to be keen on messing about. The silence was comforting, though. They had each other, and in the moment, that had to be enough. But their bubble of comfort could only remain undisturbed for so long.

“George? Is that you?”

Startled, George looked towards one of the bridges that lead to the Community House. Two boys, one significantly taller than the other, were walking towards the house.

“Hello Tommy. Hi Tubbo,” Sapnap replied in place of George. His tone wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t overly friendly either. “Careful, we just fixed that wall.”

Tommy ignored Sapnap’s warning and leaned against the fresh wall anyway. He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. “So, Dream’s bitch is finally back in town I see.”

“Tommy!” Tubbo exclaimed. He pulled Tommy off the wall and smiled at George apologetically.

George rolled his eyes in exasperation. “What do you want, Tommy?” There was a slight edge to his voice that everyone except Tommy seemed to notice.

“When did you get back?” Tommy asked in lieu of an answer. He leaned back against the wall again and some dried plaster rained down in response to the added weight.

“Tommy!” Tubbo exclaimed again. He pulled on Tommy’s arm until he leaned down so Tubbo could brush the white powder off of his blond hair. “What are you doing, man?”

“Sorry,” Tommy mumbled. “So when did you get back, George?”

“Earlier today,” George replied.

“Oh. You missed a lot, you know.”

“I do know, Tommy.”

“Oh.” Tommy looked between Sapnap and George blankly. “Well, we best be going, Tubbo and I. We need to collect more materials for my new hotel.”

Tubbo waved as the two continued to the other side of the Community House where the bridge continued.

“Hotel?” George questioned once the two boys were gone.

“I have no idea,” Sapnap replied.

George nodded and turned back to the pile of bricks he was working with. It was strange to see the others move on with life after everything that had apparently happened. The two locations that had the most history were gone, and no one seemed phased at all. It was just another day for everyone else.

Well, he supposed it would just have to be another day for him too. This was Dream’s world, and that's how it worked. It ran on emotions, it thrived on chaos. Perhaps George had spent too long trying to keep up with it all.

“I didn’t think the rumors were true, but here you are.”

George spun around, startled to see the man that was at the door of his house. “Sam, hello,” he greeted.

Sam pulled the pair of golden goggles covering his eyes to the top of his head and placed them carefully on his green hair. “Hi. I guess I’ll just get to the point, if that’s okay.”

After the long day he had with Sapnap the day before, he had decided to fix up his cottage. It was more destroyed than he had anticipated, but he supposed that it was to be expected after disappearing for so long. Nothing seemed to last long in their world. He was almost done repairing the exterior of the small house, but he quickly got distracted by the state of his chests. Another side effect of disappearing, he decided. People steal your belongings.

“Go for it,” George replied, tone noncommittal as he sorted through what little remained of his things.

“Dream wants you to visit him.”

George dropped the empty glass bottle he was moving between chests in shock. The words uttered by Sam sent a bolt of shock through his body, leaving him cold with anxiety. That was not what he expected to come out of Sam’s mouth, and it was definitely not something he was prepared to tackle.

George took in a steadying breath and asked in as calm a voice as he could muster, “Dream knows I’m back?”

“He’s been asking for a few days now. He was pretty convinced that you would be back soon, not sure why.” Sam shifted his weight from foot to foot awkwardly and glanced at the pile of broken glass. “You need some help?”

George shook his head and bent down to pick up the biggest of the glass shards. He had nothing to sweep it up with, so he’d deal with the remaining bits another time. “Am I allowed to visit?”

“Of course! I mean, it’s a long process to get into his cell, but yes, visitors are allowed—”

“Did you say into his cell?” George whirled around and stared down Sam. The whole interaction was starting to make him feel uneasy.

“Yes, into his cell. I can leave the barrier up though, so you’ll still be separated by bars.” Sam coughed and looked anywhere but at George. “Unless… you don’t want a barrier.”

“Interesting.”

“You don’t have to visit, I can say you rejected the request.” Sam rushed to add.

George rolled his eyes. “There’s no point. Once he knows I’m back he won’t stop bothering you until he gets what he wants. I’ll go.”

“That’s great,” Sam remarked. “When do you want to come by? Keep in mind that it’ll take some time to get in and out of the prison because of the security measures put in place.”

“You put a lot of time into this, huh?” George gave Sam a small smile. They were old friends, George knew how Sam could get. He was doing his best, and the prison was probably one of his best builds. He could feel the excitement radiating from the other.

Sam blushed and habitually removed the golden goggles perched on his head to wipe them clean. “I got to try some new mechanics out and I’m so glad it worked out. But I can’t go into too much detail, I can’t risk the security of the prison.”

George chuckled at the way Sam’s voice dipped in disappointment. “That’s okay, I understand. I can probably come tomorrow, if that works.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. I didn’t expect you to visit so soon, but that definitely works. Come whenever you want, I’ll be there all day. Not like there’s many visitors for the only prisoner anyway.” Sam chuckled quietly, but the sound was hollow.

“Okay.”

Sam left soon after that, leaving George to steep in his own anxiety. It was better to just get it over with, he reminded himself. This wasn’t something he could put off forever. He sat down on the dusty bed shoved in the corner of the room and looked out of the small window out to his pond. Weeks before he had argued with Dream at the edge of that same pond. It was the last time they had spoken. Their conversation from that night was engraved on George’s heart, an ugly reminder of what he had lost.

“You fucking dickhead!” George threw his fist down onto the dark railing of the bridge running across his small pond. The crown perched on his brown hair shifted dangerously.

“I had no choice!” Dream yelled in response. He gripped the railing opposite George until his knuckles turned white and let out a strangled groan. “I had no choice, George.” His voice was much calmer than before.

George scoffed and threw a glare over his shoulder towards Dream. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Of course there was a choice. The choice to not suddenly dethrone your own boyfriend was definitely one Dream could’ve made.

“Yes you did.”

Dream turned around and frowned at George. “You weren’t representing us well. I had to put Eret back on the throne to keep the peace.”

They’ve known each other long enough for George to pick up on the tension in Dream’s furrowed brow. He was holding back his anger, keeping himself in check. This just spurred George on more. Some part of George wanted to see Dream finally break.

“You didn’t have to do shit. Who even gave you the motherfucking right to make decisions like that?” George turned away once more and stared into the blue-green water below him. He was on the brink of hysteria and he had no idea how to pull himself back.

George heard Dream shuffle and when he spoke, his voice was right behind him. “George. Listen to me.”

Furious, George whirled around and looked up at Dream. He stuck an accusing finger out and pushed it against Dream’s chest. “No, you listen to me. Take a second to think about how your actions affect others for once.”

“I had no choice—”

“Shut up!” The finger was replaced with a fist that George thumped roughly against the other’s chest. “Shut up. You promised me when we first came here, you promised me that one day we’d rule this world together. You promised me, Dream.” His voice cracked and his eyes burned with the heat of unshed tears.

Maybe he was overreacting, but it felt like the final straw. Dream kept behaving in a way that left George wondering if Dream even cared about him anymore. There were just too many instances of Dream leaving him behind in pursuit of a level of power that seemed almost obsessive to George. Taking away something he was after for so long just felt cruel.

He didn’t care about being in charge of something so important. He just wanted it to be something he did with Dream by his side.

“I thought this was it,” George continued quietly, “I thought we were going to finally do this together like we were supposed to from the start.”

George stepped away and walked off the bridge towards the surrounding woods. He was almost hyperventilating and tears were burning hot trails down his face. The crown on his head lurched forward, almost falling off. George snatched it off and threw it to the side. It was just an empty promise anyway.

“George!” Dream called out. His footsteps echoed off the bridge. “George, please listen.”

George slowly turned around and angrily rubbed at the tears staining his cheeks. “What?” He asked. His voice dripped with venom.

Dream stepped closer to him and looked down with guarded eyes. “The king has to stay neutral, not start fights with some destructive kid that can be handled by someone else.”

George scoffed and turned away with the intention of leaving. “Not this bullshit again.”

“George!” Dream reached out and grabbed George’s arm, spinning him back around. A dangerous fire danced behind his eyes. “You asked who gave me the right. Well guess what? I did. I fucking did. Because I found this place. I turned it into what it’s become. I let others take sanctuary here, but when they step out of line, I make sure they know what that actually means for them.”

George stared back, eyes wide, and it felt like everything was finally clicking into place. “You were never going to give me power,” he said quietly.

“What?”

“You never planned on doing this with me. You just want someone on the throne who you can control whenever you want to do as you say.” George ripped his arm away from Dream’s grip and looked down at the grass beneath his sneakers. “You think you did this all yourself, don’t you? You think that you deserve to be in control, that you earned it just by being you. I don’t let you control me, so you took back the power you gave me.”

Dream’s eyes briefly flashed with an emotion George couldn’t distinguish before returning to calm anger. He laughed darkly. George instinctually took a few steps back and looked up at Dream with fear. His demeanor shifted completely, any trace of anger suddenly gone and replaced with an air of smugness that left George reeling.

“The throne means nothing, Georgie.” Dream replied. His voice was sickly sweet.

George felt nauseous at the use of the nickname with such a tone. “What do you mean?” The question slipped out, though he suspected he already knew the answer.

Dream pinned George in place with his gaze. “The king doesn’t do anything. He just sits there and looks pretty while I work behind the scenes. Did you really think a position like that would be given up so easily if it meant anything? Did you really think that?” Dream let out another laugh. “Did you really think I’d let you have a position like that, Georgie?”

“Stop calling me that,” George whispered. He wrapped his arms around himself to fight the shivers that wouldn’t go away.

Dream stepped forward and used a hand to gently tilt George’s chin up, the action a sickening contrast to the words he was saying. “Don’t tell me you got caught up in the fantasy, Georgie. It wasn’t gonna be forever, you should accept that and move on. We have so much more to do.”

George wrenched the hand off his face and stumbled back, his back colliding with a tree. “Stop,” he begged weakly. “Stop talking.”

Dream followed George and crowded him against the tree. He threw him a twisted smile and wiped away the tears still spilling down George’s cheeks. George let out a broken whimper and fought the urge to lean into it. No, that wasn’t something he could do anymore. This wasn’t his Dream.

George pushed Dream off and tripped his way back over to his house. He reached the door and looked back. Although Dream followed, he left a stretch of distance between the two.

“I want you to leave,” George forced out. His voice was trembling and he could barely see past his tears, but by the time he had made it inside, Dream was already walking in the opposite direction.

George fell back against the door and let himself sink to the ground. Something had finally snapped. He supposed he should’ve felt it coming. Choking back a sob, George buried his face into his knees and tried to collect himself.

It wasn’t fair, he couldn’t help but think. It wasn’t fair that Dream had let him believe any of it just to have the rug pulled out from under him when he least expected it. It wasn’t fair that he put his everything into building their little world just for Dream to take it all away. He couldn’t stay, he decided.

So he didn’t.

George frantically packed a bag full of things he thought he would need and left. He knew he probably missed something important, or had grabbed something that was just wasting what limited space he had in the bag, but he didn’t care. He just needed to leave. He walked into the thick woods and didn’t look back.

The guilt of leaving Sapnap so suddenly was short-lived. As soon as his feet hit uncharted terrain, the tears came back full force, but he was filled with a feeling that he was almost convinced was relief. This was the right choice, he decided. Sapnap would stop hating him eventually. Not that it mattered, he wasn’t ever going back.

George reached up to wipe away the tears that were slowly dripping down again. He sighed and walked towards his pond. A single duck was sleeping peacefully by the edge. George watched the resting animal with curiosity as he carefully made his way across the bridge.

The rustling of bushes pulled his attention to the outskirts of the forest. A fox appeared from within a berry bush and stared back at George. George took a cautious step forward, but the fox darted into the dark thickness of the forest and disappeared.

George walked over to the forest and looked around. There were more animals around than he was used to, but that was to be expected. The area had been practically deserted for weeks, the zone of so much drama suddenly a tranquil extension of the forest. George had half a mind to run off again and return to his peaceful flower field.

A sharp glint caught his attention. George bent down and pushed aside the branches of a berry bush, revealing the crown he had thrown away in his fit of anger with Dream. The crown felt heavy in his hands. George sighed.

He wouldn’t ever truly leave this place, he couldn’t help but think. No matter how much he said he wanted to distance himself from everything, he was tied in too tightly. As long as he was connected to Dream, he was stuck here.

The crown ended up on the top of one of his chests. It would never sit atop his head again, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything else with it. He hated to admit it, but it was actually really beautiful.

The dying rays of the early evening sun reflected off the gems of the crown and reminded George of the late hour. He would have to go back soon. He didn’t really feel comfortable sleeping in his house just yet. It was mostly fixed, but the air was still heavy with the tension from that night.

Besides, he was probably better off staying with Sapnap for the time being than hiding out alone with nothing but his racing thoughts to keep him company. Especially since the following day would bring George face to face with the person he both loved and hated the most.

The prison was terrifying up close, it was nothing like the black splotch against a darkening horizon George had seen when he first returned. The dark walls loomed ominously over George, but he steeled himself for what awaited him inside and entered. He pushed a small button at the back of the single room he could see and Sam’s voice filled the small room with booming authority.

“Welcome. Please come through the portal.”

George stared at the purple portal that had quietly appeared with suspicion, but went through it once, twice, and entered the next part of the prison. The sight of Sam sitting seriously behind a dark desk greeted him. Before he had a chance to ask any questions, Sam was pushing waivers his way and instructing him to read the papers out loud and sign them.

The whole situation was filling George with a sense of danger that urged him to turn and leave immediately, but he pushed on. This was something he had to do.

He signed the papers and followed Sam to a locker.

“You can’t bring anything with you when you go visit the prisoner, but don’t worry. It’ll all be safe here.”

George was uneasy. Sam was too serious, and the prison was too high security. The situation was too surreal. Was this all really necessary for Dream? Sure, George had seen his true colors and realized what a dark person he could really be, but surely he wasn’t this dangerous, right?

George put the few items he had with him and made his way back to Sam. “Okay, everything’s in,” he said.

Sam nodded quietly and led him through the rest of the prison. George had to pass countless empty cells and go through two pat downs that left him feeling just slightly violated before they made it to the last room. It was completely built from dark stone, and the only source of light was a wall of lava on the far side of the room.

“I need you to go set your location to that portal hub,” Sam said gruffly. He gestured towards a tall white tube near the lava wall.

George walked over to it and inspected the device with skepticism. Portals were not a new concept to him, it was pretty standard in their world. There were the ones that could take someone to a different realm, such as the Nether, and the other, more common ones that made living in such a strange and unpredictable world possible: respawn portals. They didn’t reverse dying, rather prevented it for those skilled enough to activate one in dire situations. They transported a person back to the portal hub they were connected to, usually the one in their home.

As someone who enjoyed taking advantage of the technology for both dangerous and frivolous activities alike, George was very familiar with how they worked and even how to establish a poor quality hub himself. He just wasn’t sure he should be setting his return location in such a daunting place.

Seemingly sensing his unease, Sam spoke up with a gentle tone. “It’s been tested and used by a few people already, it’s safe. And it’s the only way out of the cell.”

George nodded without turning to face Sam and turned on the hub before he had a chance to back down. He stepped inside and the hub scanned George with it’s cold blue rays. Once it signalled completion with a soft beep, George stepped back out and glanced at Sam apprehensively.

“Good, I’ll open up the pathway to the maximum security cell now,” Sam said.

George watched him disappear behind a thick, black column. After a moment, an alarm sounded and the lava wall began to slowly lower.

“Some final ground rules before you go in,” Sam said to George, suddenly right behind him.

George jumped slightly, but nodded and stared straight at the lava wall ahead. It was equal parts mesmerizing and terrifying.

“Don’t touch the lava,” Sam continued. “Not because it’ll kill you. There is a portal right in front of the lava. So, don’t touch the lava until you’re ready to leave.”

“How do you keep Dream inside?” George asked.

“His portal hub sends him straight back to his cell. He’s tried, trust me. I watched him run into that portal for over an hour and each time he ended up back inside. There’s no way to escape.”

George couldn’t help but frown at the tinge of pride in Sam’s voice. Sam was an incredibly skilled engineer and his work with magic was nothing to sneeze at. Yet George couldn’t ignore the way it made his skin crawl. Sam was here for hours at a time, taking the most and longest shifts as the warden. What had he seen that made him so sure his skills needed to be used against Dream?

“Oh.”

Sam hummed. “Another thing, make sure to step off the platform once it reaches the other side. The lava will descend once it moves back and the bars will lower, so you need to be in the cell.”

The lava was finally gone, revealing the floating black cell that was magicked to hover over the lava precariously. George stepped onto the stone platform that stopped in front of him and swallowed thickly. The platform slowly inched forward. George tried to control the way his hands were trembling, but it had finally caught up to him. He was about to see Dream again.

The platform met with the edge of the cell. George stepped into the cell and a wall of lava dripped down behind him, locking him in. A blue portal zapped into existence and quickly faded, muting the dangerous heat from the lava to a gentle and constant warmth.

If George didn’t know any better, he would think he was just inches away from death.

The bars in front of him moved down, creaking noisily as they settled into the floor, completely hidden. George slowly adjusted to the darkness surrounding him and made himself release the hem of his shirt, which he had been subconsciously wringing. His shirt was left a wrinkled mess.

George looked into the dark cell for the first time. In the far left corner, Dream was hunched over a book, the quill in his right hand moving swiftly over the pages. He was wearing a beige shirt and matching pants and most of his hair was pulled back into a bun, the remaining shorter pieces messily covering his face. His mask was notably absent.

He turned his cold gaze towards the other and George gasped. Hard, green eyes quickly softened, and George felt like he was looking into those emerald eyes for the first time all over again.

It was late, well past midnight, but George was wide awake. The full moon shone brightly above him, and only a few torches here and there were in use to illuminate the darkest of corners and ward off any dangerous creatures that lived in the deep shadows of the night. George held a map of the inner workings of the build in front of him, frowning down at it in disapproval. He was working on a project for a sparring hall for his friend Bad and he was determined to complete it before the sun rose. The only thing that stood between him and his comfortable bed on the other side of town was one last error in his engineering.

While he was an expert in engineering and often worked on various projects in Bad’s town, Bad had a tendency to come up with bizarre build concepts that left little to no room for the hidden mechanics that he expected George to fit inside. Usually, George managed just fine, but he was having extra trouble with one mechanic meant for the door of the sparring hall that would automatically note the name, age, and fighting class of anyone that stepped through.

George grumbled and rolled up the map. Giving up and turning in for the night was becoming a more and more appealing option as his time at the build site dragged on. He ended up caving and stowing the map away, pulling out an apple to snack on instead. He was just about to take a bite of the red apple when a loud thump from within the hall startled him. In a flash, the apple was falling to the ground and his shield and axe were magicked into existence.

He wasn’t wearing any armor, George realized. He felt too vulnerable without it. This side of town was still developing, so it wasn’t uncommon for hostile creatures to show up and terrorize the few that dared to wander around at night. The purple shine of George’s axe gleamed comfortingly, a reminder of the magic that would protect him.

The thumps of footsteps sounded from within, slowly getting closer. George drew his shield in close and stepped forward cautiously. He could vaguely make out a tall shadow stepping closer, and he tensed. It must be an enderman, he decided. George hated killing endermen. They were tall, bony creatures that glowed purple from their orifices with the peculiar magic of another world. They were also the most sentient of hostile creatures. The pain and anger that filled their glassy eyes whenever George had to drive a sword through one left him feeling uncomfortable in his own skin for hours afterward, and their bloodcurdling screeches played like a broken record in his mind well after the ordeal ended.

He shuddered. It was fine, he supposed. It was on him for working so late into the night, so he would have to protect the build site. The tall figure stepped into the moonlight and George lowered his axe with a small oh.

“Hey, George.”

“Dream,” George breathed out in relief. He brought his arms up and back down in an arc, the shield and axe magicking away as quickly as they appeared. “You startled me.”

“Sorry,” Dream replied with a small chuckle. “I figured you’d still be up, but when I stopped by your place, Ant said you were still out here working on the build.”

Dream walked closer and pulled George’s hand into his own. George blushed at the action and trained his gaze on his dirty shoes.

“What’d you need me for?” George asked.

“I have an idea for a big project, and I have a feeling you won’t call me crazy like the others would. I want you to help me.”

George risked a glance up at Dream. He wore a lazy smile that matched the one on his mask, and George melted ever so slightly. Whatever the idea was, he already knew he was on board. He couldn’t show just how easily he’d give in, though.

“I’m sure it’s a great idea, but I’m already working on loads of stuff for Bad,” George said in reply.

Dream scoffed and reached for George’s other hand. “Trust me, this is much bigger and much better than any project Bad has you on,” he said brazenly.

Overwhelmed by the contact, George gently pulled away and turned to descend down the steps of the build. Dream’s footsteps quickly followed, as George knew they would. He pulled at the straps of his backpack and risked a glance at Dream, who was staring back with a smirk. Oh, how George hated what Dream did to him.

“Okay, you have ten minutes. Wow me on this walk home and we’ll see,” George declared cheekily.

“Fine,” Dream started. “George, I want to start my own town.”

George frowned. “What?”

“And I want to do it with you by my side.”

If those words made George’s heart pound too loud for comfort, he wouldn’t ever admit it. “You’re insane,” George forced out with an incredulous laugh.

“Aw, come on Georgie.” Dream pouted and bumped George’s shoulder with his own. “Don’t tell me my own best friend wants to crush my dreams. What happened to dream big?”

George rolled his eyes. “Well, Dreamie, you’re here at 4 in the morning proposing that we just up and leave, of course I’m a bit skeptical.”

“I’ve thought about this a lot!” Dream exclaimed in defense. “I’ve thought this through. I’ve been thinking about it for a few months, actually.”

“You’ve only been here for like a few months, how could you have been planning this for so long?” George questioned dubiously.

Dream barked out a laugh and reached for George’s hand again, swinging their clasped hands in an exaggerated manner. George couldn’t help the blush that warmed his cheeks. He had a feeling that Dream’s touchy nature would be the death of him.

“I’ve been here for a year and a half, actually.” Dream replied lightly. “I expect you to keep better track of our friendiversary or I’ll start to think you don’t actually like me.”

George’s smile slipped. He and Dream had quickly grown close when Bad first brought the younger onto his team. They worked well together and George wouldn’t risk their bond for anything, but the constant chorus of friend friend friend from Dream was slowly killing George, and he almost hated Dream for it.

But that wasn’t fair, George knew that. It wasn’t Dream’s fault that George had fallen for sandy hair and arrogant smiles and bright eyes hidden by a stupid white mask on day one. That was entirely on George, just him and his foolish fascination with the mystery that was Dream. How could he be so enamored of Dream when he didn’t even know his real name? When he didn’t even know what Dream looked like?

It was stupid, really. George knew that the mask was a desperate grasp at anonymity left over from Dream’s days as a traveler. He was never one to stick around for long, at least that’s what George had heard when he first asked around about the mysterious new guy on Bad’s team. The itch to leave was no surprise to George for that very reason, but with it came the harsh reminder that Dream would never be around long enough for their relationship to hold any real weight.

“George?” Dream questioned softly after a few minutes of silence.

“What happens when you want to leave again, Dream? What happens when you want to abandon your ‘project’ for something else? What happens to me when you move on?” The words fell out in a rush, and the raw emotion in his voice bounced back at George mockingly.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Dream breathed out. “I understand the hesitation, though. I can’t ask you to leave your life behind and blindly follow me.”

Dream slowed them to a pause and turned to face George. They were close, too close. George could feel the small sigh that escaped Dream’s lips fan out on his forehead. Their fingers were still linked, and the contact burned George. He stared up at the white mask, moonlight reflecting softly on the smooth material.

“I won’t go if you won’t,” Dream continued quietly. “I don’t want to do this without you.”

George’s breath hitched and a shiver travelled down his spine. “This isn’t a no, Dream,” he replied gruffly. “I’d follow you anywhere, how can you not see that?” The confession woven into those words left George blushing all over.

“What can I do to make you say yes?” Dream asked.

“There’s two things,” George replied hesitantly. “First, what’s your name? Your real name.”

“Oh, I didn’t even realize you didn’t know,” Dream said with a laugh. “It’s Clay. What’s the second thing?”

“Take off the mask,” George blurted out.

Dream took a step back in surprise. There was a slight frown on his lips. Their fingers separated and George’s hand fell limply at his side.

“I’m sorry,” George rushed to say. “It’s just been so long and I thought by now you’d trust me enough to take it off around me, hell, I’ve seen you fall asleep with that stupid thing still on, and it’s not that I care about what you look like, sure I’m curious, but I just—”

“Okay.”

Before George even had a chance to react, Dream lifted his hand to his face and pulled the mask off. For the first time ever, George looked up in awe into dazzlingly bright green eyes. Dream gazed back with a soft expression. He flashed George an embarrassed smile and used his free hand to fix his mussed hair.

“All you had to do was ask,” Dream said quietly.

George inched closer and reached out a shy hand to cup Dream’s face. He took a moment to take it all in, from the freckles scattered across Dream’s nose to the thin white scar running across his eyebrow and down his cheek. He ran his thumb over the scar and made a mental note to ask for the story behind it later. Dream wrapped his arms around George’s waist and tilted his head down so their foreheads were touching. There was a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Hi,” George said with a small smile.

“Hi,” Dream replied timidly.

George leaned forward and slowly closed the gap. The kiss was gentle, their lips making contact for just a moment, and George quickly pulled away. Dream smiled and pulled George back in until their chests were flush against each other and kissed him again.

The second time was not nearly as gentle as the first. Their lips met feverishly and George whined into it, elated to finally, finally be kissing Dream. He reached up to pull at Dream’s hair and deepened the kiss. Once they parted, George was panting, but the smile on his face felt permanent.

“Come with me,” Dream demanded.

“Always,” George replied immediately.

Dream kissed George again and linked their fingers together. They finished what was left of their walk to George’s home and let themselves fall into each other for one last kiss in front of the door.

Dream leaned down until his lips ghosted the shell of George’s ear and whispered, “I’ll see you in the morning, Georgie.”

George forced out a goodbye and stared in awe as Dream stepped back, slipped his mask back on, and disappeared into the night. Feeling as though he was caught in a trance, George stumbled inside and quietly closed the door.

“Finally.”

George jumped, startled by the noise, and turned to Ant, who was lying on the living room couch with a book. “Ant, you’re awake,” George said in a poor attempt at nonchalance.

“Good job,” Ant said with a smirk, tilting his head towards the window that led to the front yard. “That sexual tension was getting way too out of hand, I’m glad to see that finally get resolved.”

Without another word, Ant stood up and walked towards the stairs, wishing George a good night before retiring to his room. George stared after him in shock, convinced the blush on his face was a permanent feature of his. A laugh bubbled in his chest and threatened to escape.

He felt like a teenager, but he found that he didn’t really mind.

Over the next few months, Dream and George finalized their plans and gathered a group of people to slowly move in once they established themselves. They even recruited Sapnap to join them. Even Bad requested that they save a spot for him, saying he wanted to live between the two cities once everything was sorted.

Everything seemed to be falling perfectly into place.

“Hey Georgie.”

Like he was putting a curse on him, Dream’s soft words instantly turned George’s legs to jelly. Every angry thought, every pained memory, every biting comment he’d prepared for this moment, vanished. His eyes burned as tears mercilessly slid down his cheeks and it took all of his energy to not crumble to the floor then and there.

“Dream,” George breathed out shakily.

“I’ve missed you. A lot has happened since we last spoke,” Dream said calmly.

“I know,” George muttered. “How’s...prison?”

“Not good,” Dream muttered, gaze returning to the book and quill sitting before him. “I mean, I write. A lot. I have a clock. Could be worse, I suppose.”

George looked around the room. There really wasn’t much in the room worth noting beyond a chest, bookshelf, and golden clock. George felt a pang of sadness at the sight. He knew Dream. He knew Dream’s mind was always running just a little too fast for most people to keep up, he knew Dream was always itching to be out and doing something new. This was torture for him.

“Is there something I can… bring you? From outside?” George asked. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He couldn’t bring anything into the prison anyway. Yet, some dark, twisted part of him still wanted to do anything he could for Dream and more.

Dream turned his fiery gaze back to George, holding eye contact. “I missed you and Sapnap more than anything else.”

George shook his head and turned to face the wall of lava. “Don’t say that,” he said angrily.

“You were gone for so long,” Dream spoke, voice laced with emotion, pulling George’s gaze back like a magnet. “You left me, George. You left me after that night. You weren’t supposed to leave. You weren’t supposed to disappear.”

George choked on a sob and wrapped his arms around himself. He tried to control the awful hiccups coming from him to no avail. He hated how much Dream still had control over him, even after everything he did. Even after the time away.

Dream shut the book and pushed it to the back of the bookcase he was hunched over. He stood up and turned to George, quickly closing the distance between them. A calloused hand reached up and wiped away the tears streaming down his face.

George let his eyes flutter shut and leaned into it, reaching up to keep Dream’s hand in place. Every nerve in his body urged him to pull away, but the familiar warmth kept him still. He felt secure.

Dream sighed. “Don’t cry, Georgie. I hate seeing you cry.”

Ice rushed through George’s viens. He pulled away sharply and slapped Dream’s hand away. The words rang in his ears as he stepped backwards, frame still trembling with each hiccup, suddenly desperate to put distance between them.

“How can you say that, Dream?” George cried out. “Do you think I’ve already forgotten what you said? Do you think I forgot that you were using me?”

Dream frowned. “Why do you think I was using you?”

A painful laugh forced its way up George’s throat. “You think I’m stupid! Dream, you told me you never wanted me to have any power. I was your pawn. I was your toy!”

“That’s not true!” Dream cried out. “That wasn’t real, I lied to keep you safe!” Dream quickly stepped forward and pulled George’s hands into his own.

George didn’t pull away.

“You were already so mad at me,” Dream continued desperately, eyes wide and pleading, “I knew what I was going to do next was going to make everyone hate me. I needed you far away.”

“You just didn’t want me to hate you,” George stated rather than asked, “so you chased me away? So you did want me gone…”

“No, I knew you wouldn’t hate me.” Dream met his eyes and George’s heart nearly broke with how loving his gaze seemed, how much like his Dream he seemed. “I didn’t want anyone to hurt you to punish me. But I didn’t want you actually gone, just not involved.”

“Dream,” George whispered, voice cracking.

“George,” Dream whispered back. He reached up and cupped George’s face in his hands.

“Tell me it wasn’t real,” George whispered. He reached up and held Dream’s hands tightly in place like he was holding on for dear life. He let his eyes fall shut once more, another wave of tears cascading down his face. “I don’t care how true it is, just end this. Tell me you were using me, tell me you never loved me. Let me go, Dream. Let me go, set me free. Please, Dream, set me free. Set me free. Tell me none of it mattered, say it. Tell me to forget you. Just tell me you hate me.”

George felt the pads of Dream’s fingers gently wipe away fresh tears. He shuddered at the touch. Dream leaned forward until his lips ghosted the shell of George’s ear. George fought against the whine building in his chest, desperate for more, desperate for the intimate touches from Dream he once took for granted.

“George,” Dream whispered, barely audible, “you were the only thing I ever truly cared about.”

George let out another sob and fell forward, his hands pulling at Dream’s shirt so hard it hurt his fingers. He didn’t know what to believe anymore. Part of him wanted nothing more than to give himself up to Dream and let him have his way with George. Another part screamed at him for being this close, for giving in.

“Dream,” George forced out. His voice was hoarse from the constant crying, every uttered word sandpaper to his throat.

“George,” Dream replied, voice raw and desperate. “George, George, let me look at you.”

George pulled away and met Dream’s eyes. He let himself bathe in Dream’s adoring gaze and believed it was still real. He let himself pretend everything was okay. He let himself ignore the voice in his head telling him to get away, that it was all a lie. He couldn’t really bring himself to care anymore.

And then they were kissing. It was sloppy and painful and George was still crying too hard to move properly, but it didn’t matter. Dream’s hands were roaming all over George’s body. They squeezed his waist, pulled at his hair, brought him in so close that George could feel every curve and plane of Dream’s body.

It was perfect.

Until George’s hands slipped under Dream’s shirt and ghosted over a deep scar on his back.

George froze and pulled back, an unspoken question in his eyes. Dream met his gaze, eyes cloudy.

“Tommy,” he muttered.

“Why?” George breathed.

“When they all… before I was taken to prison, Tommy wanted to hurt me. He almost killed me.” Dream leaned into George, hunching over the other until his head rested on George’s shoulder.

“Dream,” George whispered, “what the fuck did you do?”

“You don’t want to know.”

George closed his eyes and held him close. Dream was right, he really didn’t want to know. He wanted to ignore everything the power hungry shell of a person before him had done. He wanted to hold his lover and feel loved and move on.

“How long are you in here for?” George dared to ask.

Dream let out a hollow laugh. “For life, Georgie. I’m in here for life.”

“What did you do?” George asked again.

Dream told him. Dream told him about Tommy’s time in exile and the role he played in it. Dream told him about the discs and Tubbo and how the very cell he was in was meant for Tommy. Dream told him about the Book of Resurrection, a thing of myths and fables, and how Schlatt had found it. Dream told him how it was hidden in Dream’s base and the only thing that stood between him and death. Not once did George consider pulling away.

“You’re a monster,” George muttered, voice devoid of emotion.

“I know,” Dream replied. “Do you still love me? Even though I’m a monster?”

George shivered. He hated himself, he hated how far gone he was, how absolutely devoted to Dream he was. Since day one, Dream had been skewing his morals, molding his worldview just enough to make George turn a blind eye to Dream’s behavior. Or maybe George did that all on his own.

Living through countless wars and seeing the rise and fall of so many communities in so few years would quickly turn even the purest of souls grey.

“George?” Dream prompted.

“Dream, don’t make me answer that,” George pleaded.

“If I told you I’ve been working on a way to break out, would you tell Sam? Would you honor your contract and try to stop me?”

“Dream,” George sighed.

Dream pressed a kiss to his hair. “And if I asked you to run away with me afterwards, would you?”

“I’ve done it before,” George said quietly.

“Would you do it again?”

“Always.”

The reply left him before he could even consider stopping himself. There wasn't a single thing Dream could do that would push him away forever, George realized. He couldn’t imagine a world in which he left Dream’s side. They were destined to be together, stay together, fall together.

Dream was a dying star. He burned bright and he burned fast. George was a planet orbiting him. He waited to be engulfed by the flames of Dream’s efforts to be bigger, glow brighter, even if it meant losing himself in the process.

George would let himself burn for Dream every time.

At some point, after the painful grips and sloppy kisses and whispers of mine and don’t leave me and please stay with me, Sam’s voice filled the dark cell and asked if George was ready to come back out. With a wobbling voice, George agreed to leave. He slowly extracted himself from Dream’s warm embrace and walked towards the portal. Dream held both of his hands in his own and mouthed a small goodbye as George stepped backwards into the hidden portal. It fizzed blue where George made contact with it, and the last thing he saw before shutting his eyes against the brightness of the portal was the dull, empty gaze of Dream.

Once he felt himself stabilize, George cracked his eyes open and let himself out of the portal hub. Sam was looking at him with pity and tossed a small comforting smile in his direction. George looked away. He knew he looked like a mess. His eyes were definitely puffy and red rimmed. Sam wordlessly led George through the prison.

“Sorry for cutting that short,” Sam said eventually. “I try to limit visiting hours. You know, as a precaution.”

George nodded in understanding. He grabbed his things and left the building. At some point on his journey back, he started running. He ran and ran until his feet hit the bridge and fell to his knees, staring up at the Community House.

“Sapnap,” George called out brokenly.

Within seconds, Sapnap was rushing out of the structure and sinking down to pull George in for a hug. George couldn’t bring himself to reciprocate and just let himself be held by the other. He didn’t cry, he had done that so much in such a short amount of time that he wasn’t sure he could if he tried.

“Whatever he told you, just remember he’s saying what he thinks will get to you,” Sapnap muttered.

“I missed him so much,” George cried out. “I still care about him and I hate it.”

“I know, I miss him too. Please, don’t fall for it,” Sapnap begged. “He’s using you. He’s just trying to get out of prison. When I visited, he tried to get me on his side. He tried to get me to feel bad for him and push for him to get a shorter sentence.”

“What’d you do?” George asked.

Sapnap pulled away and looked at George with an angry expression. “I told him if he escapes, I’d be the one to hunt him down and kill him.”

George looked away and frowned. He knew Sapnap was telling the truth. Deep down, he knew it was justified and Sapnap was right to believe the punishment was justified. Dream had done awful things.

“Please, just this once, I need you to not choose Dream,” Sapnap pleaded.

George met Sapnap’s desperate gaze. He didn’t know what to do. He was caught between the two most important people in his life. Dream destroyed him, over and over, leaving him broken and bleeding. Sapnap was always there to pick up the pieces and put him back together.

“Please,” Sapnap whispered.

“Okay,” George replied.

He didn’t mean it, not for a second.