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You would think with there being a war that he would do something with it. You would think he’d be with his husband doing his best to keep him alive and safe on the battlefield. You would think George would be at Dream’s side as he always is. It was one of the most pivotal wars on the server to date and yet, George was nowhere to be seen on the field of carnage. Instead Dream stood alone on the field. His men behind him. Spread around different areas fighting back as much as they could. Sapnap had a look of blood lust across his face. Taking out enemies left and right. Dream was an army on his own. Green hood and white smile mask, shining netherite armor and glinting axe. The masked man took out fighters left and right. Pogtopian soldiers dropping to his blade as if they were nothing but mere bugs.
The dream team however missed their third. Their sniper and distanced defender. George was nowhere with them. He was away from the blood, away from the fighting. In fact, he didn’t even know the details of what was happening with his husband and best friend. He’d been working for weeks now to try to find a spot with Dream away from the rest of the people on the server. A place for the two of them to go to relax. To be with each other as husbands rather than leaders of the SMP.
George had woken up that morning to Dream giving him a light kiss on the forehead. He’d blinked up at his love just to see him half geared up for a fight. It wasn’t uncommon anymore with how things had been going recently but still, the sight this early had George trying to sit up to see what was happening. Only for Dream to push him gently back into the sheets.
“Don’t.” He’d whispered. His voice was still rough but that wasn’t surprising considering the fact that the sun had yet to rise.
“Where are you going?”
He’d watched Dream roll his shoulders and slump over towards George. It didn’t take long for him at all to reach up to Dream’s face and cup his cheek.
“Dream?”
“Pogtopia and Manberg are finishing things today. One way or another things are going to change there. But it really depends on Wilbur for how much they change.”
Now he understood. The finale that Dream had talked to him about a while ago. He’d been working with Pogtopia since after the election until he made a deal with Schlatt for a safety net he was convinced would come to help them later. Wilbur took advantage of the agreement to help and became Dream’s vassal. He remembered Dream’s conflict when he’d come home that night. Remembered his love telling him about how he gave the tnt to give Wilbur the final option. How it was a failsafe. When push came to shove it could get violent, and he didn’t want George to be there for it.
That was now.
George understood why Dream wanted him kept away. If he could fight the entire thing on his own he knew that Dream would. That was just the kind of person he was. He protected the people with him as much as he could. It was how he showed he cared. So George decided he would do what he could to show he cared too.
“I’ll be here. Be safe.”
Dream nodded into his hand, kissing his palm before pulling away and taking a deep breath. George had watched him from the bed as he continued getting ready. Watched him pull on his armor and strap his weapons on. He watched his love pick up the bone and porcelain that made up his mask and hold it for a moment. Watched the conflict run over his face as he thought about what could happen. So George did what any loving husband would do and broke him out of it.
“I’ll have dinner ready for you when you come home, okay?”
It had been hours since George saw his husband strap the mask to his face and walk out the doors. Hours since he’d seen his green hooded figure vanish with the crack of an enderpearl. He’d spent time outside working on the house, cleaning it, decorating it, making adjustments where there needed to be some. He even did yard work. It took a lot of his willpower to not check his communicator every time he felt it vibrate in his pocket. Any of those messages could mark a death. Any of those messages could mark the loss of something great. But there was a war going on. A war that he wasn’t there to protect his person. The sun began setting low in the sky so he moved to start dinner. He’d told Dream there would be food ready for him but still, a confirmation that his husband was still alive would be nice.
It wasn’t until about half way through cooking that George heard the door to their home open. His hand stilled with the knife from cutting the carrots he was using while he listened for the footsteps. There was no immediate charge, no instant ransacking. There was only a quiet shuffle and the sound of a cloak being shaken out. He already knew who it was but still wanted to see with his own eyes. Placing the knife down on the cutting board George allowed himself to smile and relax for the first time of the day. Dream was home. He was alright. It was over now and finally Dream would be able to relax.
Dream was still standing in the doorway when George turned the corner into the room. He was still facing the door. Which is what allowed George to have a full view of his husband's back. The armor that had been shining and strong when he left this morning was scratched and dented and scuffed. The hair that had been clean and somewhat orderly was an absolute disaster. Filled with dirt, dust, and what looked like pieces of rubble. He could see from the way Dream was holding himself that something was wrong with his right leg. All of his weight was resting on his left. Eventually his lover reached to unclasp the mask from around his head and George saw the bloodied and bruised knuckles, damaged gloves already on the table by the door. He couldn’t help the gasp that stole from his lungs, nor could he help the well of emotions that surged up when Dream turned to face him and he saw the thin trickle of blood down the side of his face and the bruising that seemed to be rapidly blossoming around his body.
“I thought I told you to be safe.”
The bastard had enough in him to smirk at him.
“Considering the circumstances I’d say I did a pretty good job at that wouldn’t you?”
His reward, however, was just simply another glare in his direction.
“Consider the circumstance my ass, Dream, you’re bleeding.”
“Not much though!”
For his credit the petulant pout that adorned his face did do something to assuage the worry that coiled its way through George’s gut like a snake ready for its next feast. The dry humor was almost enough to pull a smile to his lips until he saw Dream move and wince. His breathing hitching until he felt comfortable enough to move back into a rest position. Once again George just felt worry for his idiot husband.
“Come here. You need to be looked at.”
“I always like to be looked at Georgie, you know that.”
If he didn’t have to worry about a possible concussion George would slap him for making these comments right now. Instead he moved to the kitchen to pause their dinner and pull out a chair at the table for Dream to sit in. He waited not so patiently for Dream’s limping form to make it and drop almost bonelessly into the seat. Almost as soon as he was in the seat his eyes were closed and he was leaning back, his body dropping like it was the first time he could rest the entire day. Looking at the state of him that might have honestly been true. George cupped his cheek softly and shook his shoulder to make him open his eyes again.
“Hey,” he kept his voice low, just in case. “Keep those eyes open for me, yeah?”
Another couple seconds later Dream made eye contact with him and nodded slowly.
“‘M fine. Just tired.”
“Sure you are Dreamy. I’ve got to get this armor off of you okay?”
One more nod and Dream was pushing himself up in the chair to help wriggle himself out of the armor. After the chestplate was safely laid on the floor they worked together to slowly remove his undershirt. Every couple of seconds they’d have to pause for Dream to steady himself or prepare for the next move. With the black turtleneck off George could finally see the extent of the wounds on his love’s torso. He was covered in bruises, scrapes, scratches. Without really thinking he ran his hands along Dream’s ribs to check for any breaks or internal bleeding.
“God what happened out there? You look like you got caught in a mass explosion.”
At the lack of reply George looked up. Dream’s eyes were far away, guilt, confusion, and pain clouding over the color.
“Dream?”
He watched him steel himself and train his eyes onto the floor beside George. Watched him guard his expression like he expected punishment. He didn’t understand until Dream started talking.
“Wilbur’s dead. He died. Schlatt’s dead. So many people died. I pulled back when I realized Wilbur vanished but I didn’t think. I saw Philza I thought he’d- I gave him the tnt. I, I gave him everything he needed but he wasn’t supposed to- He was just meant to use it as a last resort, if they didn’t win. It wasn’t. They’d won. They had L’Manberg back. But he still...he still..”
George could feel the frown pulling on his lips while he listened to Dream ramble. It wasn’t uncommon for him to get stuck in a loop in his own head. It also wasn’t uncommon that he’d blame himself for the actions of others. Though that part hadn’t started until recently, courtesy of Tommy and Wilbur blaming everything on him most of the time. If he didn’t slow Dream down he’d work himself into a panic attack. He positioned himself directly in front of him, cutting off Dream’s view of the floor so he’d look at him. Just so he would see the love and care George knew he’d find in his eyes.
“Love, look at me. It’s okay. Take a deep breath.”
He had to wait for a couple seconds before his husband actually managed to lock their eyes and carefully measure his breath. Waiting was fine. Dream was all that mattered at the moment and whatever would make him happy or at least calm was what George was going to do. He waited until Dream had leaned forward and calmed his breathing back to a normal rate. He would have been worried about his eyes being closed again if it wasn’t for the fact that he started talking again.
“I didn’t want L’Manberg gone.”
“I know.”
George knew more than most honestly. Part of their marriage had meant complete honesty between the two. He knew all too well how Dream was tied to the world and how he felt about the lands. He knew L’Manberg was an interesting situation for him. One of the more colorful bruises shaping over Dream’s collarbone and the thin trickle of blood from the scrape on his shoulder pulled George’s eyes away from his love’s expression. He got up and went to the kitchen to fill a bowl with warm water and grab one of the cloths from under the sink. It wasn’t uncommon for them to get injured really and it just became easier to treat the wounds in the kitchen where they could get something to eat after or during. He spared another look over to the dirty blonde before grabbing a water bottle as well before moving back over to his side.
After kneeling back down beside him he began cleaning off the scrapes and bruises. Checking the wounds to see if they would be fine uncovered to heal in the air or if they needed to be wrapped. Dream fell silent but he was responsive and the more water he drank the more with it he became. Every time Dream would wince when he ran the cloth over his skin he’d apologize. Placing gentle kisses to the bruised skin to will it to feel better. Finally he’d gotten the blood off of Dream’s face. Placing a small bandage over the little cut to prevent more bleeding.
Dream’s brows furrowed slightly at the final swipe of the cloth and so George kissed the bandage lightly. It wasn’t until he’d pulled back that he found Dream’s eyes watching him. Green staring back with so much love and tenderness that it was hard to imagine this was the same man that killed hundreds on the battlefield just hours before.
“What?”
Instead of answering him Dream just leaned forward and put his head against his chest. Strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer until he was practically sitting in Dream’s lap. When he tried to pull back he felt the arms around him tighten so he gave up. A slightly disgruntled but still fond look flashing over his face as he put the cloth down and settled his own arms around his husband. Everything could wait. Right now all that mattered was the two of them. Not the dinner that sat getting cold, not the storm rolling in beyond the windows. It wasn’t the politics of everything else or the messy relations that needed to be dealt with. Together, like this, they were safe.
“I love you.” Dream’s voice scratched his throat, like some odd version of his morning voice. But George knew it was just his emotions getting the best of him.
The kitchen still smelled like dinner. It smelled like spices and cooking meat. Steam and a hint of rain with the smell of the flowers drifting in from outside. Dream was roughed up but he was happily holding George in his arms. They would be okay. It was a rough day but things were going to be okay. They had each other. They would always have each other one way or another. Dream would always protect him with everything he had and when he came home hurt George would always be there to nurse him back to health. No matter how bruised things got they would kiss the marks and make everything better again.
“I love you too.”
No matter what happened that would always hold true.