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It looked like they were making a final effort to get home.
Sapnap pulled his horse to a stop, hearing hooves clatter on the wet cobblestones as he did, the moment he saw the flash of a soaked, lime green hoodie in the clear river water ahead of him. Neither was even fully out of the river, splayed on the submerged sand bank like they had washed up and had been trying to get up again.
“No.” Shaking his head, Sapnap spurred his horse on, sprang out of the stirrups and started sprinting ahead when that wasn’t enough for him. “No, no, no no no Dream! George!” Behind him, he heard the thundering of hooves as Karl and Quackity rode up behind him. Dropping down into the sand, panting and hands shaking, on his knees, Sapnap stared at his friends. No, no, please no no please not them not them not them please.
This couldn’t be happening.
Both of them were lying like they’d been trying to drag themselves from the water when they’d died. Dream was curled a little higher on the bank, one of his arms thrown towards George a little bit. His mask laid, cracked and broken, above his head. The strap must have snapped at some point. Blank green eyes stared, half-lidded, at somewhere far off. Soaked blond hair had plastered itself to his forehead and temples, marred and sticky in some places with blood. Bruised, broken fingers stretched towards the other man, and his mouth was partially open. Like he’d been trying to speak, trying to reassure George that everything was going to be fine.
Beside him, face not even fully out of the water, was George. Neck twisted at an awkward angle, one that would have been uncomfortable if he was alive and moving, clouded brown and blue eyes watched the water as it drifted around them both. His goggles were in the water between him and Dream, and Sapnap realised with a pain in his chest that if they had survived, then they were trying to make it home when they died. A concerned expression had left itself on George’s face, blood staining the corner of his mouth.
Golden sunlight drifted down on both of them, highlighting their hair like bright halos. Beside him, in the sand, Quackity and Karl dropped down beside him. “Sapnap.” Reaching up, Karl touched his shoulder, and Quackity’s head fell against his other one. “I’m so sorry.”
Blinking, Sapnap stared at the pair. Chest shaking, he braced his hands in the sand, heat welling up in his eyes and across his cheeks. He closed his eyes, shook his head again. There was blood tinting the water around them. “No. No, no, no, no!” Screaming, he punched the sand and let out a long sob.
They were gone. Beside him, Sapnap heard Karl sob. Quackity pressed a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking slightly. It didn’t change anything. It never would. Dream and George were gone. Permanently.
This shouldn’t have happened.
+++
“You’re such an idiot.”
Glancing up, arms raised as he crossed the fallen log that spanned the little creek, George laughed. “Sure. I’m the idiot here, sweetheart.” Hopping down, he pinwheeled his arms for a moment as he lost his balance. Reaching over, Dream caught him around the waist and pulled him close. The two paused for a moment, and George met Dream’s gaze with a faint little smile. “Well, I must be an idiot, then.” His fingers ventured up to brush against Dream’s jawline. “I came out here with you, after all.”
“Oh, shut up.” Laughing, George shoved him back and then started walking along the moonlit path, Dream not too far behind him.
“So, mister admin man, what are we looking for, anyways?” Shrugging both physically and audibly, Dream strode ahead. The silvery moonlight cast a blue shade over everything, and the white mushrooms dotting the grass at the edges of their path almost seemed to shine in it. Like something from a fairy tale. Scoffing, George caught up and hip-checked Dream, sending him a look. “Don’t ignore me. Explain. Or I’ll turn around right now and head back home.”
“Sure you will.”
“I will, thank you very much. I am my own man.” Proudly, George placed a hand on his chest, splayed his fingers out with all the sass and pride of a seventeenth-century noble lady chatting with her friends about her rival’s latest misfortunes. Opening his eyes and moving his clout goggles down a little bit, he arched an eyebrow and said, “But seriously. Dream, I could be sleeping right now. It’s the middle of the night. If you’re taking me out here, then it better be for something good.”
“Oh, come on, Gogy.” Grabbing his hand gently, Dream moved him in a slow, light circle, then pressed a bit closer. Tipping his head down, he asked, “Don’t you trust me?”
“About as much as Sapnap and Tommy with pets or anything flammable.” Dismissively, George shrugged him off. Ducking underneath the man, he strode ahead, kicking a small grey pebble as far ahead of him with every stride. Dream was a couple paces behind within a moment, tailing him like a dog. “For a hunter, you’re not very quiet.”
“I’m quiet when it’s important.” He winked at George, who rolled his eyes in response.
“I’m going to ignore the innuendo and give you the dignity of assuming you mean while hunting.”
“Of course I mean while hunting. Geez, Georgie, what do you take me for?” Humming noncommittally, George glanced around the woods. Willow leaves brushed against their heads (or, well, really, Dream’s head, because Dream was tall. If it were any of the others—Wilbur or Ranboo, for instance—and they were taking a group hike, doubtlessly someone would be chirping the pair and telling them they may as well be one with the trees). Somewhere, a brook trickled by. It was a soft, serene sort of environment.
“We are definitely never bringing Tommy here. He’ll disrupt the quietness in a second. Without any shame.” When Dream burst out with a wheezing laugh, George grinned and elbowed him. “That doesn’t mean you get to do exactly the same thing, you know.” Rolling his eyes, still wheezing, Dream leaned against the nearest tree trunk and sucked in a few breaths. They sounded exaggerated, but anyone who knew him well enough could never quite be sure. “So…? What are we doing, oh great Dream? I’m sure we didn’t sneak away for a moonlight walk.”
“Well….” Trailing off, Dream looked around. Grinning, he grabbed George’s hand and pulled him along, jogging slightly. Abruptly, he pushed him down to the grass and pinned him there. George stared at him, but Dream just hushed him and then nodded ahead. In the trees ahead, the dark outline of a massive pillager outpost loomed. Stalking along the walls and the outer rails were a couple of guards, loaded crossbows in their hands. “Look.”
“A pillager outpost?” George asked, looking over to him. Grinning, Dream nodded. “What about it?”
“They have three Totems of Undying. I was thinking…how about a date? You know, be gay, do crimes?” Snorting, George buried his face in the crook of his elbow for a moment. Long, dark green grass brushed against their backs, hiding them from the glaring gazes of any guards.
“You know that’s just meant to be an expression, right? You’re not necessarily meant to go and just…do crimes.” Their gazes met again, and Dream grinned at him wolfishly. Shaking his head, George sighed. “Well, I’m betting that you’re going to do this anyways, even if I’m not with you.” Propping his head up on his palm, he rolled to the side and looked at Dream, who was still lying on his stomach. “So…three Totems of Undying?”
“Yeah, they stole them from the nearby Mansions.” Dream rolled onto his back in the grass, looking at the starry sky above them. George followed his gaze. As they both watched, a few falling stars darted along between the vast expanse of deep cobalt blue. “I want to steal two of them. We can bring them back as an emergency medical thing.”
“Can’t you just spawn them in? Being admin and all?”
Sheepishly, Dream replied, “It’s more fun this way, don’t you think?” He looked over and met George’s gaze again, smiling brightly. George returned it. Above them, the moon hung in the sky, silhouetting the outpost and them beneath it. It was a rather pretty sight.
Too bad it wouldn’t last.
+++
“Sapnap, come on, you need to eat something.”
Karl glanced over at Quackity nervously. It’d only been a couple hours since they’d found Dream and George in the river, drowned. Currently, Punz and Purpled and Ranboo were out doing…something. Probably scouting out a grave site for the pair. It made sense—George didn’t have any family, only friends. Dream’s brothers would have to take on the role, especially considering…well, considering how much Dream and George cared for one another.
Sitting at the table, Sapnap played with a little polished river stone. It was something he’d had for years. Initials had been carved into the little face, and it wasn’t exactly hard to guess whose they were. After all, it wasn’t like there were a ton of people who Sapnap had known at the time, who he’d been close enough to do that kind of thing. There was only one person.
Staring down at it, Sapnap ran a thumb over the smooth surface. White rock reflected the light from their torches. The last expressions he’d seen on either of their faces, before…before they found them that morning burned in his mind. The horror in Dream’s expression when he’d realised there was no chance he and George would both make it. Shock and pain from George when he’d been knocked back into the waters. I could have saved them.
I should have saved them. If I’d realised they were gone, checked by like I was going to. He hadn’t. When he’d gone by their rooms, he’d thought the both of them were sleep.
After all, Dream had been mapping out the new outposts that pillagers had been creating around their territory, spending night after night in the library poring over books on pillagers and war tactics, just trying to find some way to counter every single possible thing the pillagers might do to attack them.
Meanwhile, George had been doing his own part for the research. Instead of looking at defence, though, he went for offense. Working with magics that even the most educated of them all had no clue about how to read, where to even start trying. Sapnap had seen some of the scrolls while bringing food to the pair, making sure they didn’t die of starvation or low blood sugar. No matter how hard he tried, he didn’t even know what he was looking at.
“Sapnap, it’s not your fault.” Quackity said, sitting down beside him with a worried expression. Leaning in, he added, “You couldn’t have known.”
“I should have checked, Quack.” Sapnap whispered, looking over at him with blurred vision. When he did, he noticed the sympathetic look cross Quackity’s face. He knew full well how it felt. After all, it wasn’t like Schlatt’s death a year before had been any more apparent before it happened. Or with Skeppy’s sudden disappearance. Bad still hadn’t returned from looking for him. “I knew what they were doing. I should have figured it out.”
Quackity’s hand landed on his wrist, thumb rubbing over his skin soothingly. Behind him, Karl wrapped his arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “Don’t blame yourself. Dream and George wouldn’t want that.” Karl whispered in his ear, and Sapnap looked back down to the rock.
“I know they wouldn’t…” Both of them smiled sympathetically, stayed where they were.
“You promise you won’t hurt yourself? Or do anything stupid?” Karl asked softly, and Sapnap glanced back when his fiancé let him go. Leaning against the wall, the brunet picked at his painted nails, avoiding his gaze. “You won’t disappear on us or anything?”
Shaking his head, Sapnap looked at the table and set the rock down with a quiet click. “No. I’m not going to do anything stupid. Trust me.” With a long breath, he interlaced his fingers with Quackity’s, didn’t meet either of his fiancés’ gazes. “I won’t do anything stupid.” He repeated.
In the torchlight, the rock glittered almost golden, like a halo.
+++
It did not go to plan.
Sprinting through the woods, holding onto George’s wrist with tight fingers, Dream glanced back at him fearfully and then behind them. A crossbow bolt snapped through the air. Metal grazed his cheek, slicing a hot, stinging line in its path.
George’s panicked expression probably matched Dream’s own. Blood was running into one of the brunet’s eyes, from a cut on his forehead. Blinking hard, trying to clear his sight, he looked to Dream with a grimace. “We have to get back to camp.” Dream forced out. Nodding, George let himself be led, and Dream ducked underneath some low-hanging branches. Thorns tore at his arms, pulled the tears in his hoodie even wider.
This was not the plan. This wasn’t the plan by any means. Everything had gone wrong. They hadn’t even gotten to the Totems before they’d been found, one of the Ravagers sniffing them out within a few minutes. It was stupid, so stupid, he should have brought Techno and Phil with him or maybe a whole group with him to raid the pillager outpost. Now he was going to get himself and George both killed, and there was nothing they could do but run.
Mentally, he kept tallying up the chance that they might get away. Spoiler alert, it was pretty low and getting lower with every step they took towards the camp. We just need to make it to the bridge.
He said as much to George, who nodded and kept running behind him. There was a dip. Dream jumped over it, heard the twang behind him.
George screamed.
Whipping around, Dream met the brunet’s gaze as he started to fall, crossbow bolt embedded in his back. Dream caught him, dragged him a few feet. “Come on, George. Come on, we gotta keep running.”
“Dream, it’s not going to work!” More crossbow bolts were fired. Dream ducked to the side, heard each one go thunk in the tree behind him. With no other choice, he scooped George up in his arms and started staggering through the woods. “Dream—”
“Ssh, shh, it’s going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.” Dream said, shifting him higher and kissing his hair before glancing around. “Don’t say anything, hold your breath.” He ducked behind some bracken and some trees, shifted George so they were chest to chest and the brunet was supporting some of his own weight. Holding him close, Dream sucked in a breath, felt George do the same.
Behind them, something stalked through the woods, growling in a low tone. A Ravager. Dream realised with horror. Glancing to the side, just around the tree, he saw the massive leathery body slinking through the trees. Undergrowth bent and snapped under its weight, the ground thudding with every step the beast took. Perched atop its back were two riders, one armed with a crossbow and the other with a nasty-looking, bloodied hatchet slung across his shoulders.
Dimly, Dream remembered seeing the same man earlier. There was a slash across George’s leg that he was responsible for. If it hadn’t been for the fact he needed to get George out of there, he would have gone and attacked them the moment he could. But he couldn’t afford to in the situation they were in.
The Ravager lashed its tail, clearing through a young sapling with very little difficulty. Going tense, Dream watched in horror as its eyes focused on him and George. The sudden memory of sitting with Techno and Phil, poring over book after book about Ravagers and how to defend against them, learning everything possible for what to do as the pillagers moved in, hit him. Something that Phil had said, quietly, as the flames crackled. He’d said it in terror.
“They can smell blood.”
We need to get out of here. Dream grabbed George, picked him up bridal-style and started running. His feet crunched in the sticks and leaves littering the path. George’s arm wrapped around his neck, the brunet clinging to him. Stones scattered. Behind them, the Ravager bellowed, and there were heavy thudding footsteps as it pursued them.
Come on, come on! Sucking in a breath, he felt something collide with his shoulder. Pain splashed through the joint, and he nearly dropped George. Glancing back, he saw the pale fletching of an arrow fluttering in the breeze as the shaft sat proud from the wound. Oh. In his arms, George struggled a bit.
“Dream, put me down. I’ll try running. I’m just slowing down.” Hesitantly, Dream looked down at him, panicked. They hid behind another tree, the forest suddenly silent around them. Swallowing, Dream looked around.
“I think they’re gone.” He whispered, slowly setting his friend down. “Come on, arm over my shoulders. I’ll help you walk.” Nodding, George let Dream manhandle him a bit, one arm slung over his shoulders as they moved. Did it hurt? Hell yes, especially the arrow wound to Dream’s own shoulder, but there was a bolt sticking from right beside George’s spine and that was what he had to worry about. “Alright, that’s great. Come on, I can see the camp in the distance.”
Blood dripped down onto the leaves under their feet.
Still, Dream kept them walking. Somewhere, he knew that if they stopped walking for even a moment, their stroke of luck would break. How they lost the Ravager, he wasn’t sure—hell, he wasn’t even sure that the Ravager wasn’t just waiting for them somewhere else, waiting in the shadows. He just knew that they had to keep walking, somehow.
Beside him, George’s breathing was beginning to grow more ragged and whispery, and Dream made the decision to pause by the river for a moment to let him sit down. “Hey, hey, look at me.” His hands went to either side of George’s face, and Dream crouched somewhat so that their gazes met. Rubbing at the brunet’s cheeks with his thumbs, he smiled as best as he could. “Yeah, yeah, like that, sweetheart. Come on, open your eyes a little more.”
“Dream…we’re not going to make it…” George forced out, and Dream looked around before kissing his forehead.
“No, we’re going to be fine. We’ll be fine. See? It’s the river, we’re so close. We’re so close, Georgie, we’ll be home in no time and then we can get you to Puffy and Niki. They’ll take care of you. Alright?” In his hands, George nodded. Rubbing away more tears, Dream kissed his forehead again, then helped him upright. It still killed him to hear the sharp gasp of pain just standing made, and it didn’t help that George was slumping into him now. “Come on, George, we’ll be alright.”
Soon enough, the river led them to the bridge they’d crossed to get there.
It wasn’t fast enough, though. George was barely able to walk on his own, feet dragging. Dream had most of his weight, and even then, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer, either. Still, in the distance, he could see the walls of their base rising above the trees.
“George.” Beside him, there was a weak groan. Shifting, Dream looked over and said, “Look, we’re almost there. The base is right there.” Ahead of them, the stone bridge they’d spent years building spanned the river. The frigid dark water rushed alongside underneath it, waves crashing over one another and lashing at the sheer cliffs on either bank. Swallowing, Dream quickly reminded himself that everything would be fine, and he kept on walking with George beside him.
As they stepped onto the bridge, Dream glanced back. Immediately, his heart dropped to his feet. There, looming in the trees, was the dark silhouette of some sort of beast. Two horns rose from its head, and a tooth-lined snout emerged into the moonlight.
“Dream?” George seemed to have picked up on the fact something was wrong.
“Keep walking, George. Everything’s going to be fine.” Dream said, turning back to look at the gates. Taking a breath, he yelled, “Hey! Open the gates! Karl! Quackity!” It was their shift that night.
Behind them, the Ravager snarled and roared.
Glancing back, Dream made a split second decision, grabbed George’s wrist, and started running.
Crying out in pain, George stumbled after him. “Open the gates!” Dream screamed, seeing Quackity and Karl both run out to the edge of the wall, to the railing. Waving an arm, Dream shouted again, “Open the gate! Ravager!”
Karl shouted something about a medic, and Quackity disappeared. A moment later, he returned, aiming a crossbow somewhere over their heads. He fired it, and Dream glanced back to see it slam into the chest of the Ravager in front. Bellowing, it jerked to the side, and a flash of gold thread in the silvery moonlight hit Dream’s eyes. Gasping, he glanced back.
The gates were open.
Sapnap was waiting for them, terror splayed on his face and a sword braced in his hands. “Stay there!” Dream ordered. Nodding, Sapnap readied the blade to fight. Quackity shot another one of the pillagers, bolt flying by with a familiar twang before it hit armour and punched through to flesh.
There was a sound behind them, something like a laugh. Dream glanced over his shoulder again, saw the gold-lined black robes of something he’d prayed never to see again. Not after the last time.
Tipping his head to the side, the Evoker crouched and placed a hand on the bridge. The moment his palm made contact with the stones, they rattled and began to part and crack. A fissure formed, began to stretch its way towards Dream and George as the horrible, awful din of stone grinding on stone raked the air and their ears. Beneath his feet, the cobble began to buckle and break.
Glancing over at the gates, Dream froze when he realised they had no chance. Not both of them. Grabbing George’s hand, he twisted and threw him ahead, heard the bridge crumble behind him. “Dream!” Two voices screamed, and Dream felt his stomach drop as he did as well.
For a moment, he was floating. When he looked up, he could see George tipping backwards, screaming, as an arrow embedded itself in his shoulder. They collided within a few seconds, and Dream wrapped his arms around the other man. Sapnap was screaming for them both.
Burying George’s face in his shoulder, he took a breath and prepared for the bracing cold.
+++
They hadn’t buried either of them yet.
It’d been about six hours since that morning, since Sapnap and the others had found them. Now, he was sitting in between the two, trying to force himself to really process it. It wasn’t quite working, even sitting with the beds on either side of him, white sheets pulled over the both of them and the white stone in his hand.
There was so much white in the room.
White walls, immaculately painted and without even a speck of dirt on them. White tiles on the floor, polished to the point where he would probably see his reflection if it weren’t for the material they were made out of. White sheets, white cabinets, the only difference was the door and that was birch wood and there was still white on it.
Getting up, Sapnap paced around the room for a moment, took a breath. The smell of lavender and other herbs, courtesy of Tubbo when he and Tommy had visited with Ranboo, cloyed the air until it was choking. Holding a hand over his mouth, he glanced over at the pair of beds, shook his head.
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Shaking his head again, he ran his hands into his hair and gripped onto the strands. “No. No…no, this isn’t happening.” Heat welled up in his vision again, scored claws down his cheeks. His back hit the wall. Spinning in a circle, he let out a yell and punched without thinking.
Pain split his knuckles. With a ragged gasp, he pulled back, heat running down his face and his hand. Glancing at the state of his skin, Sapnap paused when he saw the bright red welling up from little scratches in the tanned surface. His eyes darted to the wall. Right where he’d punched it, specks of red splattered the pristine whiteness. Holding onto his wrist, fingers still curled up and ready to punch, he felt a slight smile pull at his mouth.
A weird sense of satisfaction ran through him. Behind him, the door opened. Karl’s voice reached his ears. “Sapnap, are you—” There was a gasp, then shoes hitting the floor. Sapnap didn’t drag his eyes away from the macabre painting he’d made on the wall, still oddly proud of it. The plaster was cracked, indented slightly and beginning to peel just from his hand. He’d never been proud to punch something before, but he supposed that there was a first time for everything.
Pulling him over to the sink, Karl started fussing over him, running water over the wounds and washing them with gentle fingers. He’d wrapped bandages around it, then said he was going to get Quackity. Sapnap nodded, and then Karl was gone.
Walking back over to Dream and George, Sapnap took a breath and pulled the blanket away from Dream. His friend was dead, there was no denial about that. Taking his hand, Sapnap closed his eyes, wished for a pulse or something.
A long moment of silence passed. He leaned against the table, sighed softly. Pretty soon, Dream’s brothers would be coming back, and then that’d be it. No more Dream. No more George. They’d be gone, like Schlatt and Skeppy and Bad. Bad didn’t even know that they were gone, he’d just disappeared after Skeppy had. Which meant that…Sapnap was alone, except for his fiancés.
Bitterly, he mused that he was probably going to have a very empty part of the chapel.
“It’s not fair. All you do is try to help people, and when it came down to it…no one helped you.” He whispered, looking over at Dream. Letting go of Dream’s hand, touching his wrist instead. Feeling for a pulse that wasn’t there and never would be again, Sapnap added, “I should have been there. Why didn’t you ask me? I would have gone, we could have figured this out beforehand. There wouldn’t have only been—”
Freezing, he glanced back at Dream’s face, frowning.
Turning, he pulled the sheets away from George, did the same thing with his free hand. What the hell? His eyes darted between the two. “Dream?” Sapnap asked, frowning more and looking over at them both. Quietly, he gripped Dream’s fingers harder, leaned in and looked at his friend’s face. “Dream, if you can hear me, move your fingers.” Carefully, he completely released his friend’s hand, leaving their knuckles brushing but nothing more. (Somewhere, once upon a time, he’d read that sometimes people could unconsciously squeeze their hands if something brushed their palm. He couldn’t take that risk. Not there.) Glancing in between Dream’s face and his fingers, he held his breath for a few moments.
Dream’s fingers twitched.
+++
They were floating, but not in the way as they had when they were falling.
Void curled around them both, and Dream gasped as he was thrown into himself again. Blinking his eyes open, he looked around him. “George. George!” Reaching over, he shook the brunet.
Groaning, George rolled over so his back was facing Dream. The crossbow bolt was gone, but the blood remained on his shirt. When Dream continued shaking him, he grumbled, “What do you want, Dream?”
“We’re dead.” George froze, then jolted upright faster than he ever had. His eyes wandered around the void. Slowly, Dream got to his feet. Reaching out, he met George’s gaze with a soft smile.
Soft fingers found calloused ones, and Dream helped him upright.
For a long moment, they both kind of just…looked at one another. “So…we died.” Looking to the side, George closed his eyes. There was a dim memory, of water crashing over his head and not being able to breathe, trying to drag himself up to the surface while not knowing which way was up. Other than that…there was nothing. Nothing more, nothing less, just a weird sensation of floating and then he was there. “Do you remember anything about it?”
Shaking his head, Dream looked around. “Where do you think we should go from here? It’s not like there’s much to see.”
“We should figure out a way to get back.” When Dream looked at him, George simply arched an eyebrow. “Dream, you’re the admin. Trust me, if anyone needs to get back to the server, then it’s you. Besides, it’s not fair to leave so soon after Skeppy and Bad disappeared.”
“Right.” Taking a breath, Dream raised his head. “Well, then, what do you think? Should we just start walking?”
I have a bit of input I could give.
Both of them froze and whirled around, finding a piece of the void shifting before them. Rising from the darkness was an enormous black dragon, quite like the Ender dragon but at the same thing nothing like her in any way. Two differently coloured eyes looked down at them, one cyan and one green. When it spoke, the same two voices that spoke after the Ender dragon was defeated in every realm she dwelled in spoke. The sound sent chills up both men’s arms, and they stared up at the beast.
George’s fingers curled in Dream’s a little bit. The blond glanced down, then back up. However, there was no attempt to meet his gaze, just George staring at the dragon before them.
“What do you mean by that?” He asked in a quiet tone. Tipping its head to the side, the dragon flicked a spiked tail and then spoke again. Well, spoke in the way that it said words, but its mouth didn’t quite move.
I mean that you have an easier way to get back than just…wandering down in the void forever. I’m assuming that’s what you wish to do, yes? It looked at them innocently, although it still had the same vibe as Tommy when he used to steal cookies from the bakery as a little child. Blinking wide eyes at them, it swallowed and then continued, Because I do have some advice there.
Frowning, Dream glanced to George again, then back at the dragon, “But…we’re dead, aren’t we?” He asked, turning to look. George’s fingers were still tightly wrapped in his. The dragon pulled its head back. Blinking wide, cyan and green eyes, it tilted its head to the side.
Only mostly. You can still go back. Raising its head, it flicked its wings out. On one side, in front of them, there was a burst of white light. You may choose to go, to move on and leave this world behind, or you may stay. It’s your choice. Dream glanced behind him, where he could just dimly see fog. Nothing more, nothing less. Before you lies the after, the light. The fog is returning. Do you wish to stay?
Dream and George exchanged a look. Eyes narrowing, George met his gaze and nodded, a determined expression on his face. Dream smiled, looked at him in a peculiar way. The dragon sat on its haunches, tail wrapped around its back legs like a cat’s. “You ready?” Dream asked, and George smiled at him, leaned in, and kissed him. While Dream was still staring at him, George dragged him along with a laugh.
“Come on, Dream, let’s go home.”