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Not once in his entire life has George ever thought of his abilities as useful. Sapnap and Dream always like to joke about them being super powers, how they should become heroes and fight villains with them, but who wants to fight a hero who’s only power it is to make people fall asleep. Super powers are supposed to be cool and badass and help other people but here he is, gifted with the most boring powers there are.
Sometimes George thinks it’s some shitty joke from the Prime Gods, some humor he just doesn’t understand. It annoys him, irritates him. He would rather have Sapnap’s inner flame or Dream’s ability to teleport than whatever he’s stuck with.
He doesn’t think he will ever fall in love with his abilities like Dream and Sapnap did. It’s sweet to listen to them try and make up stories in which his abilities would be useful, a weak attempt to cheer him up, and sometimes it does manage to make his lips twitch up a tad. But in the end his abilities will always be worthless, and he hates it.
That is, until one particular night twists his entire view on his abilities by 180 degrees.
1)
It’s dark outside, as black as tar. George can’t even see a single star in the sky. He blinks a few times, unsure as to what has woken him up.
Unsure, that is, until a guttural scream tears through the air. Dread sinks deep into his bones as he jumps out of his bed, shivering when his bare feet hit the cold wooden planks, but he hardly pays it any mind when a second scream follows the first.
Sapnap is sleeping over at Karl and Quackity’s house, which means the screams can only belong to one person.
George bolts down the stairs, almost tripping over the last step. His mind is already getting tangled up in a million horrible scenarios as to what could be happening. Images of Dream lying on his own bed, drowning in a pool of blood burn themselves into George's inner eye and he has to pause for a moment and get his breathing under control, force his hands to stop shaking so badly for him to even be able to get a grasp on the door handle and push it open.
The first thing he notices upon throwing open the door is that there is no blood. He lets out a heavy exhale of relief.
Slowly he steps closer, and his heart clenches painfully when his ears catch the quiet sniffles and sobs coming from the bed. Dream must’ve fallen asleep while reading, because there is a book face-down on the ground and the light on the bedside table is still on. George is thankful for it, because the pale glow of the lamp is enough to chase away the darkness and give him a good view of Dream’s resting form under the covers.
Dream is crying, face scrunched up in what George can only assume is fear and sorrow. His fists have buried themselves in the blanket that is messily thrown over his body, knuckles turning white from the force of the grip. His chest is rapidly moving up and down and sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead.
He's having a nightmare.
It isn’t anything abnormal. Everyone out of the Dream Team gets them more often than they want to admit, but this time it seems to be a particular nasty one, having Dream deep in its clutches seeing that a simple shake of his shoulders and a gentle whisper of his name don’t help to coax him out of the haze of whatever bad dream he is trapped in.
It only seems to trigger him more because Dream starts trashing, limbs getting even more tangled in the sheets, and the restriction makes Dream more panicked. He starts screaming again and George winces, trying his best to keep him calm and stop him from hurting himself, but he is too slow to catch Dream’s arm before it crashes against the bed frame.
In his sleep, Dream lets out a whimper and George curses quietly. He tries to call his name a couple more times, but doesn’t receive any sort of response. Dream’s mind is muddled and too caught up in the nightmare to hear George’s attempts to wake him up, and he blindly fights against George’s arms, desperately trying to get away from whatever his delirious brain thinks is attacking him.
It's an impulsive decision, raised out of his own anxious state and concern for his best friend. He acts quickly, lifting his hand up to Dream's temple and lets the low hum of magic flow through his fingertips. He barley ever uses his abilities – mostly out of spite. Deep down he always hoped that the Prime Gods are at least slightly annoyed at him for just throwing their gift away like that – and so he watches in silent fascination as fatigue weighs Dream’s limbs down and his body slowly relaxes against the mattress.
He stays there for a while, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring down at Dream’s face as the creases of discomfort fleet away.
Later he will go on and keep the night a secret, acting like nothing happened the next day, because he knows Dream would be too embarrassed if he ever found out. George is okay with not telling anyone, because he thinks he might need some time for himself first, to negotiate his own feelings towards his abilities and what the new realization regarding the usefulness of his power means for him and others – yes, powers. Because powers are useful and badass and they help people, and that is exactly what his abilities can do; even if it took him a little while to figure that out.
For the first time in his life he thanks the Prime Gods for his gift.
2)
The next time it happens, Dream is wide awake and his brain is running a marathon. The entire day he’s been blabbering about things he needs to do, and stuff that isn’t finished yet, and Sapnap and George can do nothing but watch as Dream’s brain burns itself out.
For past half hour he’s been pacing back and forth, looking distressed while muttering incoherently under his breath.
“Dream, can you stop? You’re making me dizzy with all your walking around,” Sapnap groans from the kitchen table. Dream pauses, for just a second, throwing him a death glare before continuing the pacing.
“No, I can’t.”
Sapnap rolls his eyes before turning his attention back down to the steak on his plate. “What’s up with you, anyway,” he pushes out in between bites.
Dream stays quiet, face contorting into a frown as he chews on the inside of his cheek. The moment of silence stretches on and Sapnap locks eyes with George, a wordless exchange of shared concern.
“I don't know,” Dream finally states after what feels like forever. “I just…there’s so much in my head right now and I can’t let it slip away because some of it is really important, and I really need to start writing some of this stuff down or something before I forget anything, but I don’t even know where to start.” Dream rambles, barely taking the time to breathe. He’s talking fast and George has no idea how he hasn’t stumbled over his own words yet. “Did you know that the severed head of a sea slug can grow a whole new body? Interesting, right? Wrong! That’s useless! I don't know why I saved this stupid fact in my head but I-”
“Woah,” Sapnap steps in, eyes wide with bewilderment and worry. “Dude, calm down and breathe.”
Dream finally stops pacing, head snapping around to look at Sapnap. There is desperation and exhaustion somewhere deeply buried in his tone and although Dream is an expert at masking his emotions, Sapnap and George have known him since they were little kids and they learned to read their best friend no matter how hard he tries to hide away from them.
“I can't.” Dream croaks. “I just… I can’t. My brain doesn’t want to shut up. Did you also know that humans are the only animals that blush? Oh my god, I completely forgot that I promised Karl I’d bring him something over because-”
“Nope,” Sapnap cuts in, having abandoned his food in favor of standing up and walking over to Dream. He raises his arms to stop the next flood of words from pouring out of his friend’s mouth. “You, my good sir, will go nowhere today. You are way too...” he trails off, gesturing to Dream’s hands that are restlessly fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. “…Wiggly.”
“Wiggly, really?” Dream looks almost offended, mouth twisting into a pout that looks way too adorable on him. George has to stifle a chuckle.
“Sapnap, you can’t just forbid me from doing things. You’re not my mom.” He moves away from Sapnap, too agile and fast for his friend to catch him in time as he activates his core and teleports himself to the front door.
George, however, isn’t dumb, no matter how many times his friends like to make fun of him. While Sapnap and Dream have been talking, the brunette has quietly left the kitchen and positioned himself right in front of the door, ready to stop Dream.
Dream lets out a surprised yelp as George’s hand lands on his shoulder, not expecting him to be there. He curses under his breath but there is nothing he can do with George touching him; he would only teleport his friend with him.
George grins at him, ignoring Dream’s pathetic attempts to convince him to let go and drags him into the living room where he pushes Dream onto the couch. “Can I trust you to stay?”
Dream waits a bit too long to answer, and George can see his leg bounce up and down, eyes flickering through the room without landing on anything specific.
It isn’t the first time Dream has been like this. He tried to explain it to his friends once, the buzzing feeling of anxiety strumming through his body, making him restless and urging him on to do something, anything, to get the burst of energy out of his system; the thoughts crashing down on him, all at once and drowning him under missed opportunities and colorful ideas.
Dream is always moving, never standing still; just like his power, it’s all about action for him, and George worries that one day he’ll burn himself out for good.
George sighs as he comes to a decision.
A mumbled "sorry" is all the warning Dream gets before George presses his fingertips against Dream’s forehead, finally allowing Dream’s chaotic brain a break.
Confusion flashes in Dream’s eyes before fatigue spreads, and they flutter closed. Dream slumps forward, chin falling onto his chest before George carefully catches his limp body and pushes him back until he is resting against the cushion of the couch, hair spilling around his head like a dim golden halo.
George almost feels guilty for using his powers on him without permission, but the peaceful expression on Dream’s face is enough to untie the anxious knot in his chest.
“What the fuck was that?”
George flinches, having completely forgotten about their third roommate. He turns around, nervously meeting Sapnap’s gaze.
“Uhm,” he stutters. He has half the mind to try and come up with some stupid excuse, but the curiosity and astonishment in Sapnap’s eyes spurs George on to spill the truth. First his words are laced with uncertainty, but an excited grin pulls at the corners of Sapnap’s lips and feeds George with the confidence needed to continue. He tells him about Dream’s nightmare, and how he just acted without thinking, how he realized how useful his abilities could be if he uses them right.
Sapnap doesn’t give him time to ponder after he finishes his explanation, immediately pulling him into a bear hug. “That's so cool,” he whispers into his ear, tightening the embrace.
Warmth spreads in George’s chest and he knows it isn’t just because of his proximity to Sapnap’s flames. Pride swells up in his heart and he can’t help but grin.
3)
Dream tries to share the excitement about George’s new discovered use of his powers, George can tell. But he is still grumpy that George just used them on him without asking and so his excitement is a bit dimmer than Sapnap and George’s.
George is completely okay with that. He doesn’t regret what he’s done if it means that Dream’s brain will shut up for a while and let the younger man have at least a small moment of peace. But that doesn’t stop him from hesitating the third time it happens.
Dream hasn’t been sleeping well. It isn’t a secret, Dream can’t even keep it from them if he wanted to. It’s hard to hide the dark bags under his eyes or the yawns that interrupt every single one of his sentences when he tries to have a conversation with his friends.
George knows Dream likes to keep himself awake, working on projects or new ideas throughout the entire night without taking any breaks, but this times he doubts that is the root of his exhaustion.
Dream is irritated and angry, lashing out at people without any reason before stopping dead in his tracks, eyes widened in shock as if he hasn’t been the one in control of his own body only seconds ago, apologies tumbling out of his mouth like a waterfall. In the mornings he comes out of his room looking frustrated and even more tired than the night before. But he doesn’t want to talk to neither Sapnap nor George, always brushing them off or changing the subject whenever they try to find out what’s wrong. It makes Sapnap and George frustrated as well, because all they want to do is try and help Dream, but he always turns it around and acts like they are the ones doing something wrong.
George really doubts it’s just one of his projects eating away at him again, because normally his sleepless nights stop after a while when the project is finally finished.
But this time, it doesn’t stop, and everyone gets more and more agitated. The atmosphere in their house shifts into something unbearable, the air always thick and loaded with unresolved tension that only continues to grow with each day.
The tension finally breaks one night.
Sapnap and George were out with Karl and Quackity late into the night. They completely forgot about the time until the big, ugly grandfather clock – the one Karl holds so dearly in his heart out of whatever reason – announced one o'clock in the morning.
Bones buzzing from joy, and laughter still spilling out of their mouths, George and Sapnap say their goodbyes and rush home as quick as possible.
Dream didn’t want to come with them earlier, mumbling something about a headache and retreating back into his room. The house is quiet when Sapnap and George finally reach it and stumble inside, and for a second hope blooms up in George’s chest that Dream has finally gone to bed and is sleeping off the dark shadows that live under his eyes.
The hope is doused, however, when he and Sapnap walk by his room to get to the stairs. The faint glow of light is spilling from under his door frame and George looks over his shoulder, exchanging an annoyed and worried glance with Sapnap. He lifts a brow, silently asking a question. Sapnap nods, giving him the affirmation he needs.
The door creaks when George pushes it, and warm light chases away the shadows of the hallway. He has to squint his eyes at the sudden brightness, blinking the blurriness away until it doesn’t hurt to see anymore.
Dream sits on his bed, crisscrossed, a book halfway draped over his lap. He looks like a child that has been caught red-handed, guilty and sheepishly meeting Sapnap and George’s eyes.
“You’re back,” he smiles, voice dark and hoarse from the lack of sleep.
“You aren’t sleeping,” George counters.
Dream doesn’t say anything for a few seconds before he deflates, shoulders slumping over as he puts the book away and stands up. He moves forward, feet tiredly dragging across the floor boards. He stops right in front of them, one arm coming up to support his body on the wall next to the door.
“Still have a headache, it’s keeping me awake.” It sounds more like question than a statement and George scoffs.
“When was the last time you slept?”
“Yesterday.” Dream shrinks under his best friend’s accusatory stares and it doesn’t take long for him to break. “Okay, I just couldn’t fall asleep yesterday. But I did get three hours of sleep like, two days ago?”
“Dream!”
Dream winces, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m just… not tired.”
Sapnap lets out a huff. “Dude, you look like you’re about to fall over, full offense.”
“Okay, okay,” Dream says, desperation clear in his voice. “I just… I’ve been having trouble falling asleep lately. I don’t know what’s up with me,” then, hurriedly, “But you guys don't have to worry about me. I'm okay! I'll figure something out.”
George’s expression softens.
Dream is fighting insomnia and George really doesn’t know how he hasn’t realized it sooner. He wants to reach out and use his powers to sooth the creases of exhaustion etched into Dream’s face, but the younger hasn’t been very found of it the last time he used it on him, and it makes him hesitate.
Dream hates to appear weak in front of anybody, and he hates not being aware of everything all the time. Besides, George doesn’t want to abuse the deeply rooted trust Dream has in him.
But he looks so exhausted, so tired, shoulders drawn up and tense and despite what he told them, George knows he won’t figure it out himself. Insomnia can be a bitch and it’s not something that just goes away like that.
“Dream, let us help you,” he tries but Dream immediately moves away, something akin to fear flashing in his eyes that tugs at George’s heart.
“I’m good, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I swear I will get it under control.” It sounds like he is trying to convince himself more than his friends, and George has to bite his lip to restrain himself from doing something Dream obviously doesn’t want. He looks like a cornered animal, eyes darting between George and Sapnap in rapid movements. “I'm sorry for being so insufferable lately. Sorry for yelling at you and stuff… I’m really sorry. I’ll get it under control, just go to bed, you guys must be tired. It’s really late. Just go, I’ll be okay.”
“Dream,” Sapnap says, softly. “You don’t have to deal with it alone. It’s fine. We’d love to help you.”
“No.” Gods, he can be so stubborn.
Dream steps back, swaying for a few seconds and George can’t just stand there and watch anymore.
Dream will ruin himself one day if he continues down the path he is currently on. The little amount of care Dream has for himself scares George sometimes, and looking over at Sapnap, he can tell the pyromaniac agrees.
Sapnap moves behind Dream and gives George a firm nod. Dream hardly registers what is going on before it’s already too late, his sleep deprived brain too slow to catch up in time.
He only has enough time to meet George’s eyes, and although the look of betrayal in them chips away at George’s heart, the easiness with which his eyes rolls up into his head is enough to sooth the ache in his chest
Sapnap is there to catch Dream when his legs give out. Together, they lift him up and carry him to his bed, carefully and gently laying him down. They don’t need to think about it too much before crawling under the sheets as well, pressing themselves against Dream. Sapnap throws one arm protectively over Dream’s waist and George puts one hand on his chest, feeling the deep in-and-out exhales.
He is sure Dream will pout when he wakes up tomorrow, his pride too wounded to talk to them for the entire next day, but at the moment George is content with just cuddling, relishing in the warmth and comfort of having both of his best friends close to him.
He swears he hears Sapnap mutter out a “stupid idiot” under his breath, before burying his head into Dream’s neck and falling asleep.
George smiles, snuggling further into Dream’s other side and letting Dream’s steady heartbeat lull him into a peaceful sleep.
4)
Dream is an idiot and George wants to scream at him. He wants to hammer rationality into his stupid brain until he finally learns how to take care of himself.
“Dream, go to your room and lay down!”
“No.”
Frustrated, George grits his teeth together, turning around to where Bad is leaning against the kitchen counter, watching them with an amused expression.
“Bad,” George whines, “Tell this idiot to get some rest. He’s sick.”
“Language,” Bad says playfully.
George groans, suppressing the urge to wipe the smug smirk off of Dream's face. “Stop grinning like that and get your ass back into bed.”
“I'm not sick, George,” Dream says. His statement falls rather short when it’s followed by a sneeze, but Dream doesn’t pay it any mind. “And how about you mind your own business? Bad’s here and I wanna spend some time with him. It’s been a while.”
“You’re sick!” George exclaims. “You are literally running a fever!”
That seems to get Bad’s attention. His brows knit together and he takes in Dream’s disheveled appearance, his droopy eyes and red cheeks. George really doesn’t know how the demon hasn’t noticed the obvious fever sooner. Dream looks almost drunk, the sickness throwing him off balance and the only reason he is still standing is because of his stubborn nature.
“Don't make me use my powers, Dream,” George warns.
Dream stiffens. “You wouldn’t.” He puts as much confidence in his voice as possible, but George can see the uncertainty in his eyes and he flashes him a smirk.
“I will.”
“That's not fair,” Dream starts to whine, shuffling from foot to foot and George has to bite down on his tongue to swallow a snicker because Dream looks like a defiant toddler. It is hard to imagine that this is the same man who has fought against the great Technoblade, and won a few times at that.
“George is right, Dream. Maybe you should get some rest.”
Dream bristles, throwing a look of betrayal in Bad's direction. “You’re supposed to be on my side, Bad.”
“How can you be so stubborn, Dream?” George says, rolling his eyes. “It’s literally a fever. Lay down and sleep it off.”
“I don’t want to. I wanna spend time with Bad!”
“He’ll be here for the rest of the week. You’ll get your time with him eventually. Now lay the fuck down, Dream.”
“Language-”
“Not helping, Bad,” George snaps. He is getting agitated, and if Dream doesn’t get his stubborn ass down onto a surface soon, he will have to force him.
Dream crosses his arms in front of his chest and tilts his chin up in what George assumes is an attempt at intimidation. The act is completely ruined by the round of rattling coughs that rips through Dream’s throat. George is overwhelmed with the sudden urge to rip his hair out. He groans again.
“That's it.” He’s in front of Dream in an instant, years of growing up together has made him fast enough to be able to catch up with Dream’s speed, especially when the other man’s movements are a bit sluggish from the sickness burning up his body. A light touch to his temple and a silent request for his body to give in and let go are enough to make Dream’s legs buckle, and just like that he’s out like a light.
He’s getting better at it, George thinks with a satisfied smile as Bad stumbles to his side to help him lay Dream down onto the couch.
Despite still being frustrated, George can’t stop himself from reaching out and pushing a few stray strands of hair from Dream’s forehead, sweat making them stick to flushed skin. He sighs, eyes softening as he runs his fingers through Dream’s hair.
He really wishes Dream would take better care of himself, but until then, George will be there for him to catch him every time he falls.
5)
In hindsight, George doesn’t even really know how it happened. One moment, Dream is practicing parkour like always, jumping and flying over obstacles, becoming one with the wind around him, and the next he’s on the ground, a scream ripping from his throat.
Immediately, dread pools in George’s gut, because Dream is always good at keeping injuries to himself (one time he managed to hide a wound from a zombie’s claws from Sapnap and George until an infection broke out and he collapsed right in front of them), so if he is verbalizing his pain then it’s really, really bad.
Sapnap and George, who have been leaning against the sturdy trunk of a tree, watching Dream train, instantly jump up and scramble to his side.
He is lying on his side, gasping for air, one arm cradling his other protectively against his chest.
George opens the clasp of Dream’s mask, pulling it off and throwing it somewhere behind him. He hates the stupid thing which is why Dream never wares it at home, but no matter what, George can’t convince him to stop wearing it outside as well.
Under the mask, Dream’s eyes are squeezed shut and his face twisted in pain.
They don't have to ask him what’s wrong – George doubts they would get an answer, anyway – because they can clearly see his bones protruding from skin and George almost throws up right then and there.
Swallowing down the bile threatening to rise up his throat, he looks over at Sapnap who reflects his own panic and helplessness back to him.
“Phil,” George manages to choke out. “He can help.” Hopefully.
He kneels down beside Dream, hands hovering in the air but too afraid to touch him, not wanting to inflict any more pain. “Dreamie, can you hear me?”
It takes the younger a few moments before he pries his eyes open, glazed over with pain. “Fuck,” he breathes out. “That didn’t quite work out how I planned it.”
George lets out a few weak chuckles, grateful for Dream’s attempt to lighten the mood, but his throat feels too restricted to fully loosen up. “I know it hurts, but do you think you still have enough energy to teleport?”
Dream chews on his lip, eyes loosing focus for a split second before he brings them back to George’s face. “I can try.”
George tries not to think about how slurred the last few words sounded, instead opting to touch Dream’s uninjured arm as lightly as possible, gesturing for Sapnap, who just finished texting Phil through his communicator, to do the same.
Dream lets out a strained whimper as he concentrates all his energy into his core. George wishes there is another way to get help, but Dream’s bone is literally breaking through his flesh, his blood is quickly spreading across the forest floor, and Phil is the only one they know with enough medical knowledge to fix this.
A small wave vertigo hits him and his vision blurs for a second. George will never get used to the side effects of teleportation, and he’s relieved when it's finally over. Shaking his head to orient himself better, George looks around. They are in the middle of Phil’s living room, he realizes. Hopefully the old man won’t get a heart attack when he suddenly finds three men— one bleeding profusely— in his home.
A whine startles George out of his thoughts and he looks down to where Dream is lying on the ground next to him. He has Sapnap’s hand in a death grip, and Sapnap shoots George a look filled with concern.
“Phil? Are you home?” He calls into the silence of the home. He really hopes the other man is there, because otherwise he might end up having a panic attack. Dream’s gruesome wound is still freshly burned into his mind.
There is shuffling upstairs before a voice shouts down: “George?”
“Yeah, it's me!” He lets out a sigh of relief, slouching a bit. “We uh, we need a bit of help.”
He listens to the sound of rapid footsteps coming down the stairs and he sheepishly looks up when Phil enters the living room, eyes widening in shock as he takes in the scene. He doesn’t say anything about the lack of mask on Dream’s face, and George is thankful because now is really not the time to be excited about a sudden face reveal. George hopes Dream can forgive him for that.
Next to him, Dream has already bled through the carpet and George grimaces, making a mental note to buy Phil a new one.
“Training accident,” he explains quickly and Phil huffs, biting back a snarky remark in favor of bending down and surveying Dream’s injury.
“Jeez, that's bad,” he mutters before pulling away again. With firm steps, he walks over to a cupboard, pulling out a few tools and potions. “Get him onto the couch, please.”
Dream lip starts to bleed from where he has bitten down too hard, trying to stop the pained moans from spilling out, and George can’t believe that he is still trying to act like the emotionless rock, even now with a bone sticking out of his arm and blood running down his hoodie.
“This is going to hurt, a lot,” Phil warns.
Dream manages to press out a mumbled “It's fine” over numb lips and George wants to smack him. The blonde is barely holding onto consciousness, eyes rolling up in his head from time to time before Dream forces them back down. The dark green of his eyes are fogged over with agony and George exchanges a look with Sapnap over the back of Phil’s couch.
“Okay, that’s it. Dream, go to sleep.”
“Wha-” Dream slurs, before the tips of George’s fingers touch him and he stills, body falling limp.
“I really don’t know why this idiot thinks he needs to endure all the pain and doesn’t just let us help him.” He takes a deep breath before giving Phil a nod, signaling for him to start helping Dream’s arm.
It takes Phil two hours and a lot of health and regain potions to treat Dream’s broken arm, but he’s able to get it to a pretty stable state. By the end of the procedure, his couch is strained red. George gives him an apologetic look, but Phil just laughs and waves him off. “I have three kids who like to get into a lot of trouble. I'm used to it.”
Still, George can’t shake off the guilt, and decides to go look for a small thank you gift sometime soon.
He sits down next to Sapnap on the side the couch, gently running his hands through Dream’s hair, waiting for him to wake up. Once he does, they’ll take him back home where he will hopefully get some rest without them having to force him.
Although he is happy that his powers are finally being useful, he wishes it wasn't at the expense of Dream's health.
+1
Dream hasn’t been doing great lately, and George can’t figure out what’s bothering him. It concerns him and Sapnap, but neither of them know how to help their friend if they don’t know what is going on.
To his surprise, this time it isn’t him approaching Dream first.
He and Sapnap are sitting on the couch in the living room, lazily watching TV when they hear Dream’s door slowly open and footsteps approach the room.
“Hey, Dream. Sapnap made some noodles. They’re in the kitchen if you want some.”
Dream hasn’t eaten all day, which unfortunately isn’t unusual. It worries George because he knows Dream gets wrapped up in his head a lot to the point where he’ll forget about simple necessities like food or water.
He doesn’t get an answer but the steps don’t falter until Dream stands directly in front the couch. He looks small, despite his tall stature. His shoulders are drawn up and his hands are fidgeting with the seam of his hoodie.
George frowns. “Is everything alright?”
Dream opens his mouth, a few expressions flickering across his face, before closing it, letting out frustrated huff. George locks eyes with Sapnap and the other shrugs, looking as confused as George.
“I, uh-” Dream starts. “Can you-” He pauses, his face twisting into a conflicted expression. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for something before letting the words rush out, pushing them out of quivering lips before he can regret speaking them out loud. George has to concentrate to make sure he catches everything Dream is gushing out.
“I haven’t been feeling good lately, and I don’t really know what’s wrong, but I just can’t shake this feeling off. And I don’t even really know what this feeling is exactly, but it doesn’t feel great and I just uhm… I-“ he falters, looking embarrassed. “What I'm trying to ask is, could you maybe use your… power on me?”
George is speechless, brain still trying to process that Dream – the Dream, his stubborn and untouchable friend that never backs down, no matter what – is standing in front of him and asking for help.
Dream’s face falls as silence spreads and he raises his arms, face flushing with even more embarrassment. “You don't have to, of course! I- this was a mistake. Never mind, I will just go back to my room and-"
“Dream, hey,” George cuts off his rambling. “It’s okay. Of course I’ll help you out. You just caught me off guard, that's all.”
Dream stares at him for a few seconds before his shoulders slouch and he lets out a relieved exhale. “Oh.”
“Come here, idiot,” Sapnap quips in, shuffling to the side to make space in between him and George.
Dream still stands there, hesitating, so George reaches over and grips the sleeve of his hoodie, pulling him towards the empty spot on the couch. Sapnap immediately throws his arms around Dream’s body, practically forcing him to relax into the warmth.
“So,” George says softly. “What’s going on?”
“I don't know,” Dream mumbles, averting his eyes and looking to the ground. “I have been sleeping, a lot actually, but when I wake up I’m still tired and there’s just this… ball of anxiety in my chest, making me jumpy and restless. And I’m still exhausted, which doesn’t make sense, but somehow it does and… and I’m just feeling awful all the time. I can’t describe it, but I just feel down all the time, like… like I’m on the verge of crying, but there aren’t any tears.”
George can see it, the shadows under his eyes and the distress carved into the creases of his face. He joins Sapnap and wraps an arm around Dream, running his hand up and down his back in what he hopes is a soothing gesture. “Thank you for telling us, Dream. Thank you for coming to us instead of bottling everything up. I know this is really hard for you, and I'm proud of you.”
Dream slumps against him and Sapnap, and George can feel his heart seize up.
“Here’s what we are going to do. First, you’re going to eat something, okay? Then we’ll cuddle and I’ll help you get some rest. Sounds good?”
Dream wordlessly nods and so George gets up and goes to the kitchen, putting noodles on a plate before returning to the living room where Sapnap has snatched the big wool blanket from under the couch. They normally only have it out in winter when it is freezing outside, but this seems like a special occasion so George doesn’t comment on it. He smiles as he watches Sapnap and Dream crawl under the blanket and cuddle against each other, Dream’s back against Sapnap’s chest. The position should be a bit awkward considering Dream is way taller than Sapnap, but neither of them seem to mind.
George lowers himself down next to Dream, letting the younger’s feet rest on his lap. No one says anything as Dream eats his food, all eyes trained on the TV.
When Dream finally finishes eating he looks over at George with a mixture of nervousness and anxiety, and George gives him a reassuring smile.
Gods, he looks so tired, the exhaustion clear on his face.
“It's okay,” George mutters softly, “Just relax.” He barely has to touch his friend’s temple. For the first time, Dream lets go willingly, George only acting as a catalyst. His eyes flutter shut and his breathing evens out as he sinks back against Sapnap, who gives George a light smile, hands coming up to comb through Dream’s hair and lure him even deeper into a restful slumber.
George smiles back, watching as Dream’s face relaxes, all worries being washed away and replaced by calmness and tranquility. He wishes he could see the peaceful expression more often, even when Dream’s awake, but for now he focuses on the moment in front of him.
Dream asked for help. He came to him first. Dream can be an idiot and he can be stubborn and hard to deal with at times but today he managed to overcome his own pride and George has never felt happier.
Warmth swells up in his chest, spreading through his whole body and he lets himself sink further against the couch, one hand finding Dream’s and squeezing it despite knowing Dream is already too deep under to feel it.
He sends a silent thank you up to the Prime Gods. His powers aren’t that bad, he thinks, closing his eyes, a smile still present on his lips.