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in the air, dream felt free. he could drift around, faster than anyone else, evasive but also dangerous, capable of blowing people off their feet or tearing their clothing or skin.
in the air, dream was free, but he was constrained.
the air had currents and all he could do was run with them, flit about in the directions they guided him in or be stuck on the ground to walk his own way, slow and heavy and useless. he chose to fly, to become one with the wind, but it brought him further from his goals, his desires.
a water spirit far away, someone he could only contact through modern technology, weak to the whims of the currents of the ocean.
they had met, once, years and years ago before the land had all split apart and any communication they could have was cherished.
dream would come down from the sky if it meant he could hold george in his arms once again.
george had explained, centuries before in a letter carried in a bottle to a beach dream often waited along the coasts of, that the water was not kind to it's spirits.
the water was rough and demanding and did not guide it's spirits but commanded, the currents were their leaders and any who would disobey were cast away, to inescapable whirlpools or deep below to the depths, where the pressure was so strong the only way they could go was down.
it sounded strange, to dream.
the air was constraining but it was freedom, it was escaping and releasing tension and ignoring problems. his duties were not something he could see as a burden.
he could disobey and return and trust he'd be accepted back in as if he'd never left.
george had once said that he liked to play human.
escape to the ground, where he had no duties, where there were no currents to disobey and be free. make friends, fleeting and gone in what felt like an instant to immortals like them.
to dream, this sounded insane.
the ground was heavy and weighed him down. it was firm and unyielding and stubborn and it fought him. he would only touch down to talk to george, and then he would fly, far away where nothing was real and he could live.
he didn't need the earth to ground him when george could do the same.
dream once had messaged george, his writing filled with errors and drawings and run on sentences because the ground was too hard and he wanted to fly but he couldn't talk to the water spirit from the skies, and he just said
"i miss you."
george, years later while playing human once again, had replied: "then come visit."
dream had laughed, and moved on, but he couldn't help but think about it. it had been years since then, though it felt far shorter to beings like them who lived so long and existed in elements.
he wanted to.
gods, was he tempted, and dream knew he could disappear from the currents of the wind and rejoin and not be missed so he touched ground and sent "i'm on my way" and walked to the ocean, walked and walked and kept walking until his head was underwater and he was surrounded by george's element, walked until he couldn't go any further and pushed above the surface, joined in with the wind and hoped the currents pulled him where he needed to go.
luck. it was on his side, or maybe it was some instinct that kept pulling him into winds heading towards europe, though he wasn't sure where he would land. maybe he would make it? maybe he could do some sightseeing while trouble shooting his path?
he wasn't sure how long he spent like that, over the ocean, but he could sense the water spirits in every wave, could pretend not to be disappointed when none of them were george.
he touched down in germany. the ground was heavy and when he checked his messages george had replied to his text with question marks and swears.
he walked as far as he could towards london then jumped into the wind, nearly got pulled away before he found the right current.
george was playing human, again, when dream found him. touched down on the fire escape outside his apartment and watched george briefly fade into vapor, literally jump out of his skin when he tapped the window and climbed through.
watched him blink rapidly, as if trying to clear his vision while he stared at dream, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe his eyes.
"... dream?" he asked softly, his eyes wide and his mouth opened just slightly.
dream smiled, eyes crinkling at edges as he walked towards george, nearly thought he was still in the wind with how floaty he felt.
"i missed you."
and his voice was wet, throat tight and eyes welling up with tears but he didn't care because george was barreling towards him, knocking him to the ground in a hug.
and, in that moment, they both knew; they never wanted to let go again.