Chapter Text
George stared apprehensively at the dark building that loomed over him. He had been here time and time again, trying to work up the courage to enter. To take that step. But he never did. Day after day, he would turn his back on this menacing prison, made specifically for it’s one prisoner. Day after day, he would return to his little cottage, wishing that he hadn’t walked back alone. One time he was joined by a being of great power, one that resembled the one he wished to see. That was an interesting night. But now he was determined to see him. He forced his feet forward, like a shark that needs to keep moving to survive, knowing that if he stopped, he would find himself at his cottage once more. He didn’t allow himself thought, just walking. Once he reached the portal, dread started to rise in his chest. But he shoved it down as he took a step into the shimmering purple haze. Everything in George’s vision went purple before fading away. He was in a room with no exits. He waited for a bit, unsure of what to do. He sighed, assuming his plan had failed. He stepped back into the portal. As he stepped out once more, he saw he was not at the entrance way again, but in a new room. He saw Sam, who looked a little surprised to see him.
“You finally here to make your visit?” He asked
George nodded, afraid his voice would betray him.
Everything from that point became a muddled memory. George felt like a robot, following all of Sam’s instructions, but he didn’t think. He didn’t allow himself. He knew if he did, his anxieties would overcome him, and he would turn tail and run. But soon enough, he watched as the wall of lava recede, revealing the black box that held his friend. He knows all that he has done. The terrorism and blackmail. The manipulation and gaslighting. But that wasn’t the DreamGeorge had come to love. He missed what was. Once upon a time, Dream was a good man, who did good things. But something happened. George didn’t know what it was, but one day he started to change. His love for his friend started to subside; his love for George. George watched as his love became a monster. But George’s love never wavered. He knew his Drea, had to be in there somewhere, and George was determined to get him back. He walked onto the moving platform that traveled across the gap to the cell. George saw Dream raise his head to see who his latest visitor was. His eyes widened as he realized it was George. George stepped off the platform and waited for the blocks in front of him to lower as the platform inched its way back to Sam. George waited what felt like an eternity, but finally the blocks lowered.
“George…?”
Dream was in shambles. His orange jumpsuit was torn and burned in some places. He has plenty of new scars, and even more that were still healing. And some that looked as if they were made that day.
“Dream, I-“ George lifted his hand to reach out to Dream and he flinched.
Dream flinched?
George lowered his arm and slowly stepped towards Dream. Dream didn’t move, just staring forward. George stopped right in front of him and took his hand. Dream looked down at George. He raised a hand and gently placed it on George’s face, caressing his cheek.
“George?” Dream asked again. This time there was a glint of something in his eyes that George couldn’t explain. Something about it felt familiar. Sad, but familiar.
George placed his hand on Dream’s, turning his head so he could kiss it.
“It’s me, George,” He said with a smile.
George saw tears start to swell up in Dream’s eyes, a sight not commonly seen with this man. George wasn’t sure he had actually ever SEEN Dream cry. George saw the bed pushed up against the wall and walked him over to it. He sat down, and gestured for Dream to sit next to him. He then slightly tugged at the sleeve of Dream’s jumpsuit, pulling him down so his head could rest in George’s lap. Once Dream’s head was rested there, George started to run his fingers through his greasy hair. He figured that perfect hygiene was difficult to achieve in the prison. He felt Dream tense up as tears started to flow from his eyes, dampening George’s lap. George started to sing. It was a quiet song, one his mom used to sing to him when he would come crying to her at night as a child. It always soothed George, and now he hoped it would soothe Dream. The combination of a lovely voice and a soothing touch helped to relax Dream, and soon the tears had started to slow, until they had stopped all together.
“Dream?”
“Hm?” Dream hummed.
“What… happened to you?” George asked, meaning it in two ways. What had happened to him in here… and what had happened so many months ago to cause him to change.
He felt Dream tense and sit up, and there was a long silence before Dream answered.
“Quackity…” He said.
“What?”
He turned to face George, bringing his knees to his chest, pulling away from him. George had never seen Dream this… VULNERABLE.
“Everyday, Quackity comes in here and tortures me. He wants information on how to resurrect people,” he says, turning his head away from George.
“Oh,” George looked at the ground, thinking of his next question.
“Why did you do it?” George asked.
“Do what?” Dream said, still looking away from George.
“Kill Tommy.”
George looked back up at Dream, waiting apprehensively for his answer.
“Because I wanted to show everyone I could bring him back. Also, he was annoying me,” He said, looking back at George.
George looked at him, shocked. That something he had seen in eyes before, a kind of light, was gone. All that was left the dark void of his pupils, the emptiness seeming to dull the brilliance of his green eyes. George realized he was no longer talking to his Dream, but the monster that had replaced him.
“That’s… Not good. Dream, what happened to you?” George asked again, “How did you become like this?”
“Like what?” Dream responded, sounding a little too nonchalant.
George slipped his hand into Dream’s, lacing their fingers together. He noticed Dream was missing a few fingernails.
“Violent.”
Dream rubbed his thumb against the back of George’s hand. He took a while to respond.
“I… don’t know,” Dream said, his brow furrowing.
He sounded like he had just scoured through his memories, searching for an answer, but found nothing there. He looked George in the eyes, and he looked… scared. Frightened at his lack of memory. George noticed the light he had seen in his eyes before had returned. Dream’s breathing quickened.
“I-I don’t know! Why can’t I remember?” He said frantically, pulling his hand out of George’s.
“Dream, take a deep breath. Dream- breathe.”
Dream nodded and took a shaky breath, inhaling and slowly exhaling.
“Better?” George asked.
Dream nodded.
“I think I know someone who could help,” George said, “He’s this… guy. He seems to have unnatural powers, like some sort of god. He can do just about anything it seems. Maybe he can help with your memory.”
Dream laughed. It sounded cold. He stood up and started to pace.
“A god? The only god here is me, I’m the god of this server. I control everything, I can reverse death! And once I get out, I can do so much more.”
He stopped in front of George, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.
“And no one can stop me.”
“Dream, you’re scaring me!” George shouted, trying to wriggle from Dream’s grip.
He grabbed at Dream’s hand, trying to pull him away. But when he did, Dream’s grip immediately loosened. George managed to pull himself free as Dream took a stumbled step back.
“I’m sorry, I- I-... I don’t know what just happened.”
George stood up, reaching out towards Dream, “Dream-“
Dream took a few more steps back, “Stay back! I don’t want to hurt you! I didn’t mean to hurt you…”
Dream stopped and looked at his hands. He looked up at George, and that light in his eyes was gone. He started laughing. Something had changed Dream into a monster, but somehow, George was able to bring him back. But he was gone again, and now George was talking to the monster that had taken his place.
“I have power, so much power, and this little cell is preventing me from using it. But once I get out… I’ll have control of everything! Everyone will pay for what they have done to me!”
George took a step forward.
“Dream, this isn’t you! What happened to you? What happened to the Dream I knew? The one who had my back? Who helped others? Who helped found this place, giving everyone a home! Where did you go?”
Dream chuckled, “This is me. It has always been me.”
George walked over to him, shoving a finger into his face, “NO! I know Dream, and you are not Dream. Who are you? What did you do to him?!”
Suddenly, dream reached forward and grabbed at George’s shirt with both hands, pulling him up onto his tiptoes, and bringing their faces closer together. George grabbed at Dream’s hand again, hoping that whatever happened before would happen again. Dream laughed at this.
“That’s not going to work again. You’re never getting him back.”
George clawed at the imposter’s hands.
“Who are you?!” He shouted.
He laughed even louder.
“Who am I? Who am I?! Oh George, you already know who I am.”
George continued to struggle.
“You are not Dream.”
The grin on the man’s face grew to an unnatural width.
“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. Now,” He spun them around, pushing his body against George’s, pinning him against the black, obsidian walls. “I think it’s time you woke up.” He said, whispering into George’s ear before pulling back and gripping George’s throat, raising him off the ground.
He squeezed, causing George to gasp for air. He tried to pull his hands off of his throat as this fake Dream laughed, cruel and cold. George felt his body become weak, and his protesting arms fell to his side as everything faded to black.