Chapter Text
Why does it keep repeating itself?
Why is it that no matter what happens, how good the last few days were, how hard he tries, he always ends up in the same place? Back in his miserable corner, questioning everything he thought he knew. It only took one comment, one little thing, for him to roll almost to the bottom again. After all, they didn't even mean it! ...right?
Why does his stupid mind make him always feel so insecure? Why can't he just accept what he has, what is so important to him, as a given? Why does he continuously have to question every little thing, every word, every thought? He’s so whiny and needy and annoying and deserves nothing, but will beg on his knees for everything, only nothing is ever enough.
After all, he knows they like him! No one would spend that much time with someone they don't like, and yet… And yet, no matter how hard he tried to get that fact into his head, he couldn't believe it. No matter how many times Dream said those 3 words to him, no matter how many compliments he would get, all of his gathered confidence fled whenever something went wrong. It could have been something small, just one sentence, fuck it, a second of silence too long, and his brain was already figuring out the rest, filling in the story with the worst-case scenario he could only imagine.
Why was this so difficult?
He wanted, craved, needed so badly to get all his doubts out so someone could finally put them to rest, but he knew it wouldn't be possible. Because no one has the desire to reassure him over and over and over again and remind him that he is important to them. Sooner or later, it will become a nuisance. After all, how many times can one repeat the same thing without any results?
George knew, realized, was aware that he was a difficult person, that it took a lot of energy to be friends with him. And he tried, he really tried, not to take things personally, to laugh even when every word was reconciling his wavering sense of self-worth. How many sleepless nights did he spend arguing with himself, trying to convince himself that he wasn't just a burden? He always told himself that he was giving some value to others, even if only through his coding, but then his deceptive thoughts began to whisper to him that this was the only reason anyone was still hanging around with him.
He... really didn't deal well with his own emotions. He should have had them under control long ago, but nothing, no method was working. It was so unfair that his logical side, no matter how hard he tried, was incapable of influencing what he felt in any way. He had so many sensible arguments, he even wrote them out for himself on pieces of paper, made lists, tried to gather all the things that were objectively true into one place, and it still didn't change anything.
No matter what, he was unable to believe that anyone would ever be able to like him. It was something so abstract to him, so ridiculous, that even when someone said it to his face, his mind just didn't register it. He always had a million excuses - someone just said it because they wanted to be kind, or - they felt sorry for him, or - they just said it to get some kind of reaction from him or from the fans.
It wasn't even that he had any complexes, that he didn't know his own worth as a person. After all, he was aware of what he had to offer. He knew what he looked like, how much he could do, what his character traits were. Did that change anything when it came to establishing relationships? Nope. Not at all.
He was just cursed to repeat the same scenario over and over again.
Which was fine - it's not like he wasn't used to it. There are good days where he's almost, almost able to believe the things that are said to him over and over again, and then there are bad days during which everything is proof that no one cares about him. Which was fine, too. He didn't need to have someone to whom he was worth something. Did he crave affection and understanding? Perhaps. Had he come to a conclusion some time ago that it just wasn't meant for him? Yes. No doubts about it. Not everything was for everyone, and even if that hurt, it was a fact that could be lived with.
It should be easy to guess which type of day today was. Except that this time it was worse than usual. Why? Because he let it show. It started with the usual banter, and at first, George even managed it. He laughed, gave no sign that anything was wrong, and kept a carefully constructed mask on his face. But then his voice trembled, and as he tried to salvage the situation, to convince the others that I was only pretending, things began to go awry.
Brick by brick, the wall that he had carefully constructed between what he portrayed on the outside and what he felt on the inside began to crumble. His laugh was too artificial, his answers too stiff, his posture too rigid. And before he knew what he was doing, frightened that he would draw the attention of others to himself, that he would force them to comfort him, he quickly disconnected from the conversation, closing his computer and locking his phone. Upon reflection, this may not have been the best solution at all.
He hated those moments. When others noticed that he wasn't 100% okay. He didn't want to be a problem. He didn't want others to comfort him not because they wanted to, because they cared about him, but because they felt obligated to. He didn't want the rest of them to feel guilty for doing something wrong when the only problem here was himself. He didn't want to explain, to put his thoughts out, because then they would start treating him differently. He didn't want to force others to change their behavior, to change their dynamics just because sometimes those words yielded a little too close to what his own mind was telling him day in and day out.
Sooner or later, he will have to face the consequences. He will have to find an explanation, an excuse as to why he has suddenly disconnected and is not answering his calls. Perhaps it would be wiser to face it right away, but what is he to say? 'Sorry, I never believed I was a part of the group, so every time you make fun of me, it sounds more like a confession than a joke?'
George sighed deeply. It was all so messed up... no, he was the one who was messing everything up, instead of functioning like a normal human being. At this point, he had already resigned. He had spent over an hour sitting in his chair at his computer, trying to collect his thoughts. Honestly, he could have expected something to go wrong. After all, he had noticed that the last week had not been the best for him. Maybe it was the phases of the moon, perhaps something else entirely, but it wasn't treating him gently.
Sometimes he wondered if breaking off all of his friendships would be better. Since, in the end, no one cared about him anyway, at least in his own mind, why should he strenuously maintain any position in their lives? But... the very thought that he was going to lose all those long conversations, never to hear again the laughter of Dream which he himself had caused... Wasn't it pathetic that he clutched at those moments so desperately even when he felt like they were stolen? Like they didn't belong to him?
He felt that he shouldn't think about it anymore, that he was just falling deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole and didn't know how to get out of it. He looked reluctantly at his phone lying on his desk. It currently resembled more an instrument of torture than anything else.
What if he turned on his phone and got a million notifications from Dream and Sapnap? What if they called him trying to figure out what happened?
Or...
What if he spent an hour worrying about his reaction while no one cared? What if he got no message, no one minded that he hung up. Maybe they were glad they didn't have to talk to him? Maybe unlocking that device would just confirm all his worst thoughts?
Does he have the strength to check it out today? After all, he knows that tomorrow won't be any easier. The lock screen seemed to stare menacingly at him. He took a deep breath and unlocked the screen, waiting for the notifications to start coming in. Not even a second passed until his phone started vibrating with messages about missed calls. 2...3 calls from Sapnap, 5 from Dream, a couple messages from both of them... That's good? He means it wasn't good because he didn't want them to worry about him. But at the same time, it meant that they were concerned about him after all, right?
Why doesn't this make any sense?
Why, on the one hand, he doesn't want anyone to worry about him because in his mind, worrying about him was a hardship for other people and the first step to making them stop being friends with him. And on the other hand, he craved so much for someone to worry about him because it was proof that someone cared. Why couldn't anything be straightforward and understandable?
The phone started buzzing in his hand. Dream was calling him for the 6th time... Should he answer? Dream would realize he had turned the phone on, but he could let the connection run out. He really wasn't in the right state of mind right now to explain himself, but on the other hand, he was only digging his grave more and more until he finally had to answer. Maybe if he got it over with, he could finally calm his running thoughts?
His fingers gripped tightly onto the device, stiffening to the point it nearly hurt. He curled onto himself, knees pulling to his stomach, and being held in place by his elbows. He let his hair fall down and cover his eyes, as if that would shield him from what was about to happen.
"Hello?" He said cautiously into the receiver. He could feel trembles starting in his body. It was as if his whole core was vibrating in a way that made his teeth clash and breath stutter.
"George, what's wrong? One minute we're playing Minecraft, everything is okay, and the next minute, you suddenly hang up and don't answer the phone. What was that about?" Dream asked with a distinct note of annoyance in his voice. "We were supposed to do something, remember?"
Oh.
George didn't take into account that the rest of them might be angry with him. What stupidity. His head fell down onto his knees. He felt like crying again, but felt like he wasn’t allowed to. Of course, there was a 3rd option that he completely forgot about. Again, it turned out he was too focused on himself to remember anything else. He really is awful. He doesn't deserve to pity himself.
"Sorry." He said without any intonation. There was nothing more he could add.
"Is that all you have to say?" Dream asked, the same annoyance still in his tone. It wasn't really surprising. He had a right to be irritated.
Finally, George could feel himself getting numb, the trembles stopping to be replaced by something much worse. The feeling of resignation swallowed his body, his eyesight unfocused. That was it, huh? That was the time he overstepped and nothing could ever fix it. His muscles let go and he could distantly feel the spots on his palm where he dug his fingernails in a little too deep, a little crescent moon marks staring back at him, their image blurring in his fuzzy mind.
"Yes." That answer seemed to shock Dream enough for him to change his demeanor.
"George." He said much more softly. "If something is going on, you can tell us about it.“
"No." He replied shortly. "I'm just irresponsible. Sorry about that. Won’t happen again." He guessed he got too comfortable. Maybe part of him broke down on purpose today, perhaps this was a reminder of where his place was.
"Well... as long as you're sure about it.'' Dream said uncertainly.
"I am. I promise I will make it up to you somehow, okay? " He tried to sound a little more animated. "Sorry, Dream, but I have to end the call, I have something to do. Bye!"
"Bye..."
He ended the call and threw himself on his bed. He probably didn't sound too convincing, but Dream didn't
pursue the subject. Maybe tomorrow he'd be able to apologize to the others and pretend nothing had ever happened. He’ll go back to smiling and pretending and being good enough. Maybe he would be able to even convince himself of that.
---
He stared blankly at the ceiling, sunlight reflecting on the flat surface in streaks finding their way through the blinds. How did he feel so numb, but so incredibly sad at the same time? Today wasn't better, not really. But it wasn't worse either. He felt drained, tired of analyzing everything.
The day before seemed so distant, as if it had taken place years ago. He remembered his train of thoughts, what he felt. Presently... presently he felt only an exhausted indifference with despair laced through it in a way that made neither seem real. Perhaps he had overreacted to yesterday's... he didn't even know what to call it. He probably blew everything right out of proportions. Again. He should have learnt by now never to trust himself with his reactions.
He turned on his side, eyes staring at his palms, the evidence of yesterday’s emotions judging him quietly. He wasn't sure what put him on such a borderline, he shouldn't have even tried to socialize when he felt so vulnerable. It only led to situations like this one. He knew he needed to apologize to Dream and Sapnap for his behavior. Especially Dream, considering their phone conversation. He probably made him worry when there was no need for that. He should make the call himself, straighten things out, make things normal.
He reached out his hand to his nightstand, fingers curling around his phone. He checked the time. Dream should be awake by now. No time like the present, right? He didn't even bother to mentally prepare for this call. There wasn’t anything that would make this easier. He clicked on the number to start the call.
"George?" A voice from the receiver answered, cold screen hovering millimeters from Geprge’s ear. Dream sounded so uncertain, like he was afraid to say anything to make things worse.
"Hi, yes.” He responded quietly, eyes looking downwards, as if Dream could see him right now. “ Just calling to apologize, a little more seriously than yesterday."
"Oh, George, no, it's fine.” He could hear hints of frustration in Dream’s voice. “ You don’t need to apologize. I didn't mean to start the conversation in such a harsh way yesterday." He said. "Both me and Sapnap just didn't know what happened. We were worried, you didn't answer the phone, and instead of controlling my nerves, I jumped on you, and I'm truly sorry. I should have been more patient, and I promise I will be, okay? It was so shitty of me to say those first words to you, no matter how frustrated I felt.”
"No, no.” George tried to chime in. It wasn’t fair for Dream to take the blame on himself. “You had every right to be mad at me. You still do."
"I wasn't angry. Or at least not at you, not really. " George could clearly hear Dream sighing deeply through the speakerphone. "Look George, I know I should have started with this yesterday, but unfortunately it's too late for that, so I'll do it now; Is something wrong?"
"No, it was just... me being stupid." He didn't even know where he would start to try to explain anything. Besides, why would he even start? It's not like it would change anything for the better. It's not the others' fault that he's having trouble figuring things out in his head. And besides, he felt a bit better now, not really good, but better, calmer. He no longer felt any panic, he was able to separate his thoughts from themselves. He was in a kind of state of acceptance. Whatever was going to happen would happen, he doesn't have the strength to fight for anything. Or perhaps more so, he doesn't feel he has the right to do so.
"Okay, I won't push. But if you want to talk, you know I'm always here for you, right? Me and Sapnap both. “
"Sure. Yea, I know." He felt even more guilty now, but he knew that if he gave up to the temptation of spilling everything out, it would only put him in a position of being seen as unstable. He didn’t have a good explanation, and no explanation was better than a shitty one. At least that was they could all blame it on the weather or something equally as dumb and move on.
"Do you want to talk about something else? We lost so much time yesterday." Dream asked him. George hesitated.
"I still should talk to Sapnap." He had one more apology in front of him.
"Oh, yes, of course.“ Dream sounded disappointed. It did hurt to leave him like that. George knew he was causing pain, it’s not like he couldn’t recognize that. He was aware that hurting people he cared about would be the direct consequence of him letting his temporary uncertainties and feelings slip through. But it was better to cut the hurt now, letting it pass, rather than feeding it to the point where they’d decide George wasn’t worth it.
“Maybe we could play something later? Together?” Dream asked, the residue of hope giving its last sparkle.
"Umm... Maybe not today, sorry." George quenched it.
"No, that's fine. Call me if you change your mind or just want to talk. About anything, okay? “
"Sure. Bye."
"Bye George."
He ended the call and curled into himself, phone falling next to his face. There were two roads diverging in front of him. Separated by a single decision. Both led to the same place. Pain. Loss. Which one was more winding? Trawersing which would take longer before he inevitably ends in the same place?
He knew he couldn’t have this forever. Nothing in his life ever lasted this long. But oh, will this hurt. He could already feel the echo of his future self, hurt beyond measure.
No matter if he closes off, or opens up, Dream and Sapnap at one point will become frustrated with him. Either from him not answering their questions and giving them explanation, or from his being too needy, too damaged. In one scenario he will give himself time to slowly get used to not having them in his life, cutting off his contact together with them backing down. Presumably, it would hurt less at the end of things. In other, he would get everything he wished for, for a short amount of time, before having it cut off once he becomes too much. It would hurt way more, but might turn out worth it, just for those few moments.
Thinking about it didn’t really make a difference. He knew he wouldn’t make a conscious decision until it was done. At one point he would either say too much, or not enough and that would be it. Done. The die would be cast, his fate set.
He spread out his fingers on his bed linens, focusing his senses on the texture rather than his overflowing mind. The little irregularities in the cross-woven, slightly warm fabric scratching the top of his fingertips. He took a deep breath, trying to exhale everything that he consisted of. As he said to Dream, he had one more phone call to make. Try to make things last longer.
“Hello?” A voice answered from the other end of the line. “George. Dude, are you okay?” He sounded genuinely concerned.
"Yea, I… I’m fine. Listen, I’m sorry that I disappeared like that yesterday." He tried to make it sound like nothing happened, like it wasn’t a big deal. Because from Dream and Sapnap’s perspective it should be like that. It was only his own that blew everything out of proportions.
"That's okay, don't worry about it. Did something happen?"
"No, it was just...something stupid."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, you don't have to worry."
"If you say so.” He didn’t insist. He liked that about Sapnap. That he never pushed when he sensed that George really didn’t want to talk. ” Have you talked to Dream yet? Today, I mean, because I know you two talked yesterday. " George’s shoulders stiffened a little.
"Oh, yeah. We were just talking a minute ago."
"That's okay then.” Said Sapnap. “He was really concerned, you know?” A theoretical question. “He was getting more and more strung up for the past week, because he insisted that you were behaving kind of down and nothing seemed to help.” There was something in the way he said this sentence that made George believe that each word was thought over and carefully calculated.
“Is… is that so?”
“Yhm… He felt bad, and kept on asking you those innocent questions that you never really answered in a way that mattered. Like how’s your day been, or what are you thinking of, or what are you doing. Even I noticed.”
“I…” His throat seemed to dry out.
“And then you suddenly disconnected and he freaked out, because of that whole building up to that moment. And listen.” He said with some finally to his voice. George felt scared. “I am not saying this to judge you, or make you feel bad. My point is; you need to communicate. Both of you. And at this very moment it looks like Dream is really trying to and you are not. “
“I am trying!” He protested, but almost immediately faltered. His trying to amend things didn’t really count as proper communication, did it? He covered his eyes with his hand.
“Are you really?”
It hurt. It hurt. It already did. Sapnap was mad at him too. Yesterday Dream, today Sapnap. He fucked up, he knew he fucked up, he didn’t understand why he didn’t think that they would be mad.
“George.” Said Sapnap more delicately. George realized that his breath quickened. “It’s just… he cares. And I care too, but I won’t pretend like your relationship with Dream is not special.”He paused for a second. George's head began to spin. Special how?“ I get that there is probably something going on in your life, but I can’t put you over him. You are hurting Dream, intentionally or not. If you didn’t want him to care so much, you shouldn’t have started all this.”
“All this.. what?” He asked timidly. A deep sight answered back.
“Just... think about everything I said, ok?”
“Okay.” He spoke quietly, not knowing if the phone even picked it up.
“And George, we love you, ok?”
“Ok”
“Take care of yourself.”