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George could feel the blood pounding through his ears, his eyes clouded over in a flurry of red as he charged through the nether with purpose, his goggles steamed with the sweat and heat of the dimension as he stumbled over netherrack hills and through the craters of the ghast’s ministrations.
His sword was heavy in his grip, his bowstring pulled taught around his shoulder blades to hold it in place as he panted, desperate for water in his dried out mouth but there was no time, not that water could even last in the nether long enough to provide any hydration.
Sapnap was nearby, George could hear him faintly over the ringing in his skull as he searched the surroundings with scrutiny, eyes narrowed behind his clouded goggles as the red haze persisted, his blood lust and hunger for winning keeping him fuelled as his bones and muscles screamed with fatigue.
Dream was around here somewhere, George could feel it.
They had found the fortress first and they were guarding it fiercely with all the resources they were able to pull together in the overworld and as far as George knew Ant had returned through the portal to scour the mines for diamonds whilst Dream was busy elsewhere.
The hunters had this victory in the bag and George couldn’t help but smile cockily at the idea of seeing Dream’s eyes droop with disappointment as his mouth turned under the cloth mask that covered the lower half of his face.
The man had won enough of their recent manhunts for him to get comfortable with rubbing it in during their down-time banter.
A crack of bamboo broke George from his thoughts, his neck nearly snapping as he whipped around to see Dream grinning cheekily to mask his clear failure as his scaffolding collapsed next to him.
Was that his plan to get into the fortress? George almost laughed. Dream was making this too easy for them.
He took chase, Dream whooping out a wheezing laugh as he yelled in faux fright, vaulting over ravines and sluggishly sliding through seas of soul sand as George hounded behind him, a grin pulling at his thin lips despite himself as he called for help from Sapnap who hopefully hadn’t strayed too far.
Dream was skilled in his escape but George had poured countless hours into practice, he was just as good and he wasn’t giving up any time soon.
The terrain was uneven and unrelenting and George could feel himself stumble a few times but he pushed through it, tugging his bow free and pulling its string tight as he loaded an arrow, firing it at Dream’s feet to hopefully deter him.
It seemed to work, the man skidding to a sharp left as he caught his balance whilst continuing to blindly charge in that direction, sending fleeting glances back to George to check if he was still being followed.
But like hell George would give up chase now, he was so close, victory just within reach.
He could see the gulf of a drop approaching rapidly in the distance and despite the fear that spiked in his chest, George swallowed it down and kept running, pulling back another arrow and attempting to steady his aim as he watched Dream produce more scaffolding and hurl himself off the cliff.
George couldn’t stop himself from yelling in stunned shock, stumbling forward to see the green whirlwind of Dream as he plummeted, his eyes narrowed and focused from where they peeked over the cloth mask and George could only watch nervously as he fell and fell and the ground crept closer and closer.
Sapnap was by his side also leaning dangerously off the side as he gnawed on his lip with excitement and anxiety washing over him in waves. He almost stunk of awe as Dream barrelled with steadily climbing velocity towards the cruel surface of netherrack that coated the nether with seemingly no fear and George counted down the seconds until impact like some sick spectator.
He knew as a hunter he should be diving off the gulf after him but his spine prickled with warning as Dream prepared to throw the scaffolding beneath him and he found himself frozen, knees glued to the netherrack as he collapsed to the floor, hands desperately gripping the edge of the drop with his knuckles glowing a stark white.
He wished he had closed his eyes as Dream missed the timing, body crumpling as it hit the floor with a crack that echoed throughout the nether, both his and Sapnap’s communicators buzzing with victory as they announced Dream’s near-death state that warranted his loss.
But George, even though he was desperate for the win, couldn’t celebrate, couldn’t yell with happiness at the steady buzz of his communicator as Ant and Bad sent messages of obnoxious winning into their shared channel and he couldn’t stop the build-up of tears behind his eyes as he watched Dream’s body neglect any kind of movement, staying still like a stain on the floor of the hellish dimension.
“Give me a pearl,” he choked out, presenting an open hand to Sapnap expectantly who silently handed him the green orb he requested, the younger man pressing a palm to his mouth as he held back his worried whines.
George tossed the pearl with practiced skill, the curve heading straight for the patch of netherrack Dream lay brokenly on and the goggled man waited impatiently as the pearl shattered against the nether floor, pulling him through a flurry of purple towards his hurt friend.
The nausea was the least of his problems as George shakily landed, finding his bearings relatively quickly as he charged, this time with much different intentions, towards Dream who coughed weakly at his arrival.
“Congrats on the win,” he muttered, words croaky as they fought their way out from his sore throat. “Shouldn’t have tried the MLG in hindsight, could have just outrun you,” he degraded himself as he tried to push himself upwards but George halted him, lowering him carefully back to the floor with gentle hands.
“You stupid, dumb idiot, why did you do that?” George whined, hands pressing down onto Dream’s armoured chest to feel the shift of a few broken ribs that forced a pained cry from behind Dream’s mask that he quickly tugged away.
The man’s lips were chapped beyond belief from dehydration and the mole on his chin seemed to wink flirtatiously at George with every wince from Dream. He was still the same, startling pretty man George knew and he sighed knowing his Dream wasn’t damaged beyond repair.
There was a small trickle of blood that poured from his mouth, probably from the shock of impact and George tutted condescendingly, wiping the ruby away with his pale hand and softly cupping Dream’s smooth cheek. “You could’ve died!”
Dream chuckled a deep rumble that forced a wince from him as it jostled his chest but he pushed it down, reaching out weakly for George’s blood-stained hand. “Is that not the point, Georgie?”
George pouted, tears working their way into his ducts again as he tried in vain to blink them away while clutching Dream’s offered hand like a lifeline. “You know it’s not, Dream. You’re more important than some stupid game.”
“Georgie,” Dream cooed, rubbing a finger over George’s supple knuckles. “Don’t cry over me.”
George sniffled pitifully. “I’m not crying over you,” he argued weakly, eyes squeezing shut as a tear dropped down his dainty cheek like a raindrop. “Don’t give yourself too much credit.”
“I’m gonna be just fine, Georgie, no harm done!” Dream promised, squeezing George’s hand again reassuringly. “No harm done so no tears needed!”
George laughed wetly, pressing his forehead to Dream’s larger hand.
“No man is worth your tears, Georgie, don’t forget that. No matter how bad it seems, never waste your tears on another man, they’re never worth it.” he continued, uncharacteristically stern.
“You’re certainly not,” George quipped back, shattering the air of seriousness in an attempt to hide from his worries and Dream grinned easily, emerald green eyes sparkling in the low light of the nether.
That time in the nether was never a moment George dwelled on but as he stood behind the cusp of the hill that led to the monster formally known as Pandora’s Vault, he couldn’t help but think back to it.
He’d spent months wishing he could see Dream again, months biting back tears and refusing to let himself be upset over what the masked monster had done to him, done to all of them, and yet he felt himself yearning to hold him again, to joke and run and spar with him.
But he wouldn’t let himself cry; he held himself to that standard and Dream, as he had once said, did not deserve his tears.
Not after all the pain he had subjected the people he dared call friends to.
The server was calling for help though, George could feel it in the grass that looked more yellow than green, the flowers that wilted sadly as they sprung from the ground during spring and the lack of fish playing like children in the sea. The server was calling for help and George knew exactly what that meant.
Dream was fading from the server.
So he found himself just out of sight of the prison, his breath caught in his throat as his eyes stung from the reality of the situation. He missed what life used to be, how Dream used to be and how once upon a time he had hope that maybe, everything could go back to normal.
He knew he was being an idiot but he could pray.
So he bested the hill with uneasy steps, eyes watchful as the prison rose from the ground like a demon from hell, its turrets and the threatening glow of lava burning up the surroundings without care.
To George’s surprise, half of the server seemed to have beaten him to the prison, dozens of people and hybrids alike were crowded around the dripping obsidian that framed the looming entrance where Quackity stood in the doorway.
He looked somehow softer than the last time George had seen him, the scar tearing through his eyes seemed to swallow half of his small face, his dark hair falling over his face that cast a shadow over his puckered lips.
George could see where the skin seemed to fold into his mouth where he was missing a tooth, the torn tissue in that area twisted in shame as his ducktail hung limply against the back of his thighs, the small wings by his ears fluttering sadly.
What happened here?
Sapnap spotted him first, his normally bright orange eyes dull like the dying embers of a fire as he sadly watched George approach. His hair seemed lifeless, the shine gone from the black locks as it was greasily slicked back underneath his tattered white bandana.
“Sapnap, what’s going on?”
Sapnap winced, waving George over with a small wave, an uneasy smile on his face. “George, I-“
“Sapnap I can tell you’re about to be all cryptic and try to hide something from me but please, I can tell something is wrong, you don’t have to treat me like I’m fragile,” George pleaded, gently taking Sapnap’s hand in between his. “We’re friends, we were all friends, what’s happening to Dream?”
Sapnap bit his lip, looking uneasily to Quackity who seemed to shrink under the gaze, feathers ruffling as he glanced at George with guilt pooling behind his eyes. The duck hybrid crept closer, choosing to ignore the stern glares from the entirety of the server as he approached Sapnap and George.
Even Tommy appeared distressed and borderline disturbed as Quackity crossed his path.
“George,” Quackity’s voice hitched, his eyes slamming shut as he tried to avoid the slowly darkening eyes of the goggled man. “George I-“
“What the fuck did you do?”
Quackity winced, hands coming up to guard his chest in an almost mock plea. “George, I wish I could explain.”
They were disrupted by a rough scream from Puffy, the sheep collapsing pitifully to her knees as she let out a pained cry, almost folding over as she pressed her cupped hands to her mouth, tears streaming down her face in despair as the tell-tale click of Sam’s creeper legs echoed down the long corridor of the prison’s entrance.
And George couldn’t help but join Puffy on the ground with his mouth hung open in a limp cry of helplessness.
George didn’t like to think about that manhunt often, seeing Dream fall from the cliffside and being so unbelievably unable to help him as he slammed into the floor like a puppet with no strings, the cheery chirp of his communicator thundering through his ears as the masked man spluttered on the floor in agony, caused him mass amounts of stress that he chose to ignore. But as Dream’s limp body was carried from the depths of Pandora's Vault in a bridal carry in Sam’s armoured arms, George couldn’t help but be thrown violently back to that day.
His mask was gone, presumably still in the darkness of the cell, and his hair was so much longer than it had ever been before. It was grown well below the shoulders, hanging in matted clumps over Sam’s forearm with blood crusted in his hairline from multiple head wounds that George could faintly see beneath the amount of grime that caked his once smooth skin.
He was covered in scars now, every inch of visible skin was marred in some way or another, stained with blood and dirt and the luminescent gunk of crying obsidian and George could hardly believe that was the same Dream he had spent so much time with.
He was hardly recognisable under all the injuries.
There were missing fingernails as well as fingers, deep gashes clawed into his ribs and a smile carved into his cheeks that grinned heartily at George as Dream’s shining eyes remained shut, his clumpy eyelashes dusting his bloodied cheek as he hung limply, almost like-
Almost like he had-
Sam shifted under the uncomfortable glares of the server and Dream’s arm fell from his grip, the limb flopping in the air with no resistance. George could have reached out to grasp his hand like he had so many times before but he already knew what he would find under his palm.
“What did you fucking do?” He choked out, tears welling in his eyes again and this time one escaped, falling slowly down his cheek and dripping from his chin as if like a dare for George to stop them.
“George I’m so so sorry, it was never meant to go this far,” Quackity begged, stepping backwards from his creation and George tried to swallow a voice crack, failing miserably as it bubbled into a wet sob that shattered him.
“Don’t, don’t even try to apologise, he’s, he’s-“ George chased the words but they evaded him and he chose to simply ignore Quackity who stumbled away, falling to the floor as he tucked himself into a ball, crying at his failures as even Sapnap stared at him in disgust.
Sam slowly lowered Dream’s body to the floor, his pale skin seemingly glowing against the dead yellow of the grass below him that seemed to wither away into dust as Dream’s cold hand brushed against it.
The server itself was in mourning and everyone could feel it, Puffy could feel it as she cried to the heavens, her normally bouncing white curls dead and loose against her back.
Even her horns seemed to have lost their gusto.
Despite everything, Tommy and Tubbo’s heads were bowed in respect, Ranboo awkwardly gripping Tubbo’s hand in support as Bad and Ant held each other close, Skeppy tightly grasping Bad’s trembling shoulder.
Technoblade and Philza were ghosting near the back of the crowd but even the piglin’s ears seemed to droop, the ruby glow of his eyes dull as Chat silenced themselves in awareness of the situation.
George weakly crawled forwards, tucking Dream’s heavy head into his lap as his tatty hair fanned across his lap. He tore the goggles from his face, his heterochromatic eyes now fully pooling with tears, fat droplets streaming down his face in rivers as he hugged Dream’s cold body closer, stroking his scarred cheek with a shaking hand.
“You idiot,” he cried with a sad, quiet laugh that shook his body as he buried his face into Dream’s unmoving chest. “You stupid idiot, I hate you so much.”
“No man is worth your tears, Georgie, don’t forget that. No matter how bad it seems, never waste your tears on another man, they’re never worth it.”
“You’re certainly not,” George quipped back, shattering the air of seriousness in an attempt to hide from his worries and Dream grinned easily, emerald green eyes sparkling in the low light of the nether.
“Come on now, Georgie, you’re a terrible liar. You love me too much to listen to my advice,” Dream teased with a weak cough, shaking George’s hand light-heartedly in his grip. “Say it, you love me, you love me, you love me!”
George laughed, eyes crinkling behind his goggles as he gently shoved Dream away from him, yelling out an apology with wide eyes when Dream grunted in pain despite himself.
And George knew he was a bad liar, Dream was never wrong about George’s character and he always hated to admit it, the cheeky eyes that were eventually hidden away behind porcelain always knew how to wind the smaller up, what nitpicks to point out and which legs to pull.
He knew he was a bad liar from the moment he swore to himself to never cry in front of Dream again, from the very moment he told Dream he would never waste tears on him because now as he cradled Dream’s corpse in his trembling arms with Sapnap shaking with silent tears for a lost friend behind him he allowed himself to break.
He allowed his dams and walls to shatter as years worth of worry and regret poured from his mismatched eyes, clutching Dream’s torn and bloody clothes with desperate hands as he wailed.
He was an awful liar but George couldn’t help but curse the gods for denying him that gift; all he wanted was to tell himself it wasn’t real, that Dream was still alive and bubbling as he glided through the End to slaughter the beast of the world, that Dream wasn’t tucked into his chest with not an ounce of breath warming George’s skin.
He wanted to lie to himself and he wanted nothing more than to believe it.
But the gods didn’t listen, they never did.