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When George met his soulmate at 20, he never imagined it would turn out like this.
He confidently said Dream was his soulmate, after two years of friendship they began dating, and another two years George couldn’t imagine a life without him. It didn’t take long for marriage, buying a house, and domestic life to set in. Some said they would regret it, but George needed as much time with this man who he was sure he’d spend the rest of his life with.
Before this relationship, he found the idea of kids repulsive, at least his own. So, when Dream mentioned wanting to adopt a kid, George instinctively turned the idea down. He saw the crestfallen look on Dream’s face, but stood on his position.
Dream dropped it, and George assumed it was over with. They could just be pet dads for the rest of their lives!
Until he couldn’t get the idea out of his head. Cheesy scenarios falling in his dreams and eyes catching on any toy or clothing that was marketed for kids. It took him a few months, but he came to peace with the idea he wanted a kid.
They considered it for another year, going through the processes to adopt a kid and taking parenting classes before they went in to look for a kid they could properly take care of and didn’t seem to hate them.
After three visits, they met Penelope. A two year old girl who had lost her mother during childbirth and the father soon disappeared. The two fell in love the moment they saw her, and hours passed by without feeling like a minute. As quick as they could, she was in their care, after buying anything a toddler could need or want.
It was good for a year, almost perfect, with days spent at amusement parks and pools. Rainy days were filled with Penelope playing in the mud with George and Dream worrying about her getting a cold or something. They celebrated holidays, introduced her to friends and family who wouldn’t stop cooing over her, spoiled her a little much, and they were unbelievably happy.
But nothing seemed to really last in life.
Days before her third birthday, January 20th, Dream was driving to get her presents. It had been a particularly cold week, and bridges had iced over. Dream didn’t realize this, nor was he very practiced at driving on icy roads. On one such bridge, his tires slipped, he swerved, and fell into the ditch below the road.
George didn’t remember much. He didn’t remember getting the call or answering it, just a frantic drive of his own to the hospital after confirming his sister would take care of Penelope for the time being.
When he got to the hospital, they were still working on stabilizing his partner, so he had to wait three terrifying hours. But eventually he was okay enough for no need of constant care, and George could visit with a senior nurse in the room.
He wasn’t sure if he slept while Dream was in a constant state of unconsciousness. He sat next to that bed almost all hours of the day, only getting up to use the bathroom and occasionally drink or maybe eat something.
A painful two days later, Dream had woken up. George thought it would be okay, he thought once Dream woke up he would have a few day stay in the hospital then be okay. But the set time for him to leave kept changing. “A few days” “Maybe a week” “We’ll have to keep him a month longer” and when George broke, pleading with them to tell him why, the nurses outside Dream’s room told him.
He didn’t know if he wished he didn’t know.
They didn’t tell him the details, only that the love of his life would either have a life spent on support or be gone in the week after he was taken off. George didn’t know how to explain anything after that. The pain he felt didn’t even feel emotional, call him crazy but it felt as if his soul was being ripped in two. He always called Dream his soulmate but he never thought of how that would feel when he was gone. Through a blinding pain, he gathered himself; he had to be strong for Dream.
He tried to keep himself without letting Dream know he knew, even though he’d been told Dream knew about his own fate. It felt like a thin glass wall with a crack. They both could see it from each side, but neither wanted to do anything in fear of the wall coming crashing down in a painful impact on the other.
But George was never good at self control. He couldn’t help asking.
“What do you want to do?”
It was a sudden question, their hands intertwined awkwardly over the railing of the hospital bed. He realized later it didn’t make much sense, with no context behind it but his mind couldn’t possibly think of making sense right now.
“Do with what, love?” Dream responded, and George could hear a painful rattle behind his voice, attempting to hide to protect George.
“With you.” George all but whispered, unable to look anywhere but the floor. “I know you can’t go on without…” He gestured vaguely to all the machines his husband was hooked up to. “These.”
The silence almost deafened him as Dream drew in and back out a few breaths. “I can’t leave you alone like this.” He eventually responded, and the tears that had formed in George’s eyes finally fell.
Here Dream was, on the bed he might die on, machines pumping fluids and medicines into his system to keep him breathing, and his only thought was for George. George shook his head, “You can’t–” He couldn’t get through the sentence, grip around Dream’s hand tightening. He took a few seconds, “You can’t do that for me.” The brunet said, wiping tears aggressively from his eyes to try to ease his own pain in some way.
“George–”
“This is your decision, Dream. You can’t think about anyone but yourself. You can’t. I can’t be the reason you suffer.” Quiet engulfed them again. Dream let out a long sigh. He’d already been here for two months. George swore he could hear his thoughts, but just stayed quiet until Dream spoke.
“I need time.” He eventually answered. “To think.”
George just nodded.
They celebrated Easter two weeks after that conversation, Dream helping Penelope open eggs on his bed and showing her the best way to eat a kinder egg. It was later that night, when visiting was limited to one person, and George was laying in the bed with him gingerly. It wasn’t technically allowed, but they timed when someone would come check on them.
George had Dream’s head against his chest, blond hair touching his chin as hands ran through the curls. Dream had been quiet for about 45 minutes, George would be worried if not for the heart monitor constantly hooked up to him.
“George,” He spoke eventually, voice watery and unable to hide emotions.
George could only murmur out a soft “Mhm?” in response.
“I think I have to go.”
He only nodded against a mess of hair, and Dream nodded back. He understood. He understood Dream couldn’t stay here like this. Dream understood. Dream understood without looking how George could feel nothing but pain in his heart at the moment. He reached gently to intertwine their hands.
“When?” George finally mustered up the courage to say.
“I think I’ll have them take me off support in a day or two. We can go home, and I’ll have a week. They said I’ll be tired but I’ll be there.”
“Okay. Do you want to tell people?”
“Sapnap, my parents. That’s it.”
George didn’t know what else to talk about, so he just buried his face in soft hair, silent tears soaking through. Soon enough, Dream gently moved up the bed to face him, and George saw tears covering his face as well.
He gave George a smile, taking his thumb and wiping tears away which George leaned into the touch. “Can you do me one last favor?” A nod came in response, eyes cast downwards at their intertwined hands. “When Penelope’s older, tell her stories about me, okay? Show her pictures, let her know how much I love her.”
A fresh wave of tears filled George’s eyes as he let out a sob, closing his eyes and a kiss being placed on his head. He wanted to tell Dream how she would never forget him, no one would. Wanted to explain how much Dream had made an impact and how everything would change, how he would be telling stories about Dream and his love for the rest of his own life without request.
But he couldn’t, he could only cry quietly into the room. He heard apologies from Dream, but shook his head against them, knowing Dream shouldn’t apologize for wanting to be comfortable. He composed himself and squeezed Dream’s hand in his, nodding.
“I will.”