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Dream had never gone dark before.
Obviously, he’d left for a couple of months before– taking a break without posting or streaming or anything. Dream had been radio silent to the public a couple of times. Times where their fans wondered where he could’ve possibly gone. George had taken breaks too, of course. The prospect of a visa weighed both of them down more than they liked to think about. It was soul-crushing, heart-breaking.
But the thing was, they’d never taken breaks from each other. Every time they went on a hiatus from Minecraft, they still talked on the phone together, still stayed up throughout the late hours of the night to laugh about the dumbest things. They comforted each other, tried to be there in spirit when they knew they couldn’t be together physically.
Now, however, it had been a week without Dream saying anything.
The blond hadn’t been active on Discord. He hadn’t texted in any of the groupchats they were in together, let alone texted George separately. There were no more snaps of his lunch, or of Patches, and the blond seemingly disappeared.
George asked Sapnap what was wrong after the first day of silence. Even one day without speaking to the blond was enough to display red flags in the brunet’s peripheral. Dream was the kindest person he knew, he’d never leave without saying something; without telling George what had happened, or without saying goodbye.
But Sapnap didn’t say much to answer George’s question. He’d assured the Brit that he’d checked up on Dream, and that the blond was hyper-focused on editing a new video. Sapnap had said not to worry, but George ended up doing so regardless.
Then, a day passed by. And another, and George still heard nothing from his best friend. So he asked Sapnap again, and again, and still, the brunet assured him that Dream seemed fine. He didn’t know what was wrong, and George felt a pit in his stomach at the notion that he didn’t know either.
Sapnap still texted George, of course, and George also had Karl and Quackity to make him feel better. Even Tommy texted to see if he was doing okay, after George had gone almost radio silent as well. All of the people in his life checking up on him made George feel better, but it didn’t matter. They weren’t Dream.
The brunet shut himself up in his room. His days were spent under the covers, barely even awake. He slept all the time, since the only place he could see his best friend was in his dreams. He barely checked his phone, and only answered an occasional call from Sapnap when the brunet pushed himself through George’s do not disturb (only Sapnap and Dream went past it, but what was the point in that if the blond didn’t even speak to him anymore?).
He barely ate, but made sure to eat enough just because he knew Dream would chastise him if he were there. He didn’t listen to music because every song he heard reminded him of Dream in some way. He felt like he was only going through the motions, like he wasn’t even alive.
But how could he possibly be alive if his heart was all the way in Florida?
George was convinced that Dream stole his heart. Sometime, all those years ago when they kept getting closer and closer, the blond had stolen his heart from the brunet’s chest. He’d kept it safe next to his own, George used to think. He’d protected it, and cared for it all these years to make sure that when George finally got there, it was whole.
Yet, now George’s heart felt empty. The only way to keep it full was to talk to Dream, to laugh with him, to text him the stupidest things, and call the other an idiot.
They didn’t do any of that now. The missed contact, the silence, had made George’s heart break. Not speaking to Dream for so long had killed him. Without his heart, without his best friend, he was better off six feet under.
The weeks passed without a word from the blond. His calls with Sapnap became less and less common until the point where they were barely even speaking either. He wondered if they missed him. Or, if maybe, they'd forgotten about him.
George knew he needed to get back to his job. He knew the fans missed him, that eventually, he’d need to get another paycheck.
But getting out of bed was harder than anything George had ever done before, so he simply stayed. Under his covers, wedged between too many blankets to count, George stayed for what felt like an eternity.
On a day seemingly like any other, George received a phone call.
He dreaded the thought of speaking to Sapnap. His mental state was horrible, and he didn’t want to make his friend feel worse than he already did. (George knew Sapnap was struggling more than he let on, he knew the brunet wondered if he was the reason for their trio to split up, even though all three knew the blame was on somebody else.)
But, when George looked at the bright screen of his phone, illuminating itself in the darkness of his room, he was shocked.
The picture of a stupid meme held the background, and the name that read across the top was one of 5 letters. Five simple letters that George hadn’t seen in over two months, letters he hadn’t stopped thinking about for the entirety of their absence.
He answered the call, swiping his thumb across the bottom of his screen.
When the line connected, the silence was loud. George held his breath, knowing the blond was doing the same thing. He wondered where Dream was right now, what he had been doing before deciding upon making the call.
And then, a breath. “Hi, George.”
The way Dream said his name made the brunet almost cry. It had been months since he’d heard the blond’s voice, months since Dream had said his name like it was coated in honey.
His breath shook. “Dream,” he said quietly, as if saying it louder would make the call untrue. He couldn’t risk it all being a hallucination, he needed it to be real. He needed his best friend.
“Your, um,” Dream started, voice croaking, breaking with the words spoken next, “Your visa got approved today.”
George let out a sigh he didn’t realize he’d been holding. This, the visa he’d been waiting practically years for, was finally approved. The ticket that sent him on a one-way trip home, was finally here.
But, George wondered, was Florida still home?
They hadn’t spoken in two months, so how was George meant to pack away his things and move three thousand miles away? How could he get to the place he wanted to be the most without wondering if his friends still wanted him there?
Did they still love him the way he loved them?
“How?” he breathed out, more of a question to himself than anyone else, but the blond still answered regardless.
“The visa people apparently called you a week ago, but… when you didn’t answer they called me instead, since,” his voice fell quieter, “you put me as your emergency contact.”
George had almost forgotten he’d done that. He’d trusted Dream more than anyone else, more than his parents, to always be there for him. Clearly, he was wrong about that now. He’d been abandoned for months. There was nothing trustworthy about that.
In lieu of response, Dream asked, “Are you coming soon, then?” His voice was hopeful, maybe even a little sad. “We have the house and the room and everything ready, so, it’s yours if you want it.”
If he wants it. Dream had said if rather than when. The blond was unsure about George’s feelings now, when months ago he would have been sure. Months ago, he would have told George to leave immediately, and now he was only offering up a place to stay.
“I don’t know,” George admitted, whispering. “I don’t know if I should come.”
The line was silent. George knew, he knew that Dream felt terrible. He knew his friend was sorry for the past two months, that he wanted to do better.
But sorry didn’t make up for the weeks George spent laying in bed, wondering if his best friends still loved him. Sorry didn’t make up for the unsaid goodbyes, the months of waiting and sadness and confusion.
George heard a sniffle from the end of the line. Dream was crying, and although a small part of himself wanted to hate the blond for it, a bigger part made him want to whisper sweet nothings until their broken relationship was okay again.
Even though it wasn’t.
“Well, just think about it please,” Dream whispered, his voice pleading in a way that made George want to teleport himself to the sunshine state faster than the speed of light. “We want you to be here.”
The line broke, and George was left alone in his room again.
In the middle of his chest, where his heart should have been, he felt a spark of hope. Speaking to Dream had ignited something in him, and there was no chance he could let that go.
He was hopeful. Hopeful that they could get through this, that they could be okay. It would take time to get back to the way things used to be, but maybe that could never be achieved. After it all, George felt like a new person. The past months of solitude, of isolation and silence, had taken a toll on him. Maybe George could never return back to the same person he’d been before.
And, maybe, that was okay.
Two weeks later, George was on a flight to Orlando, Florida.
All he had was a carry-on, but the rest of his things could be shipped later on. He was wearing sweats, and the Dream hoodie he’d gotten years ago– the one that Dream had posted pictures of him in on Twitter. The one that was two sizes too big.
The plane ride was long and quiet, but George ended up thinking the entire way there.
He was still angry at Dream, furious even. He wanted to know why the blond had done it, why disconnecting their ties was something that had to happen. He wanted to yell at Dream, maybe punch him, maybe scream at him so much he cried.
But another part of him wanted to hug the blond. He wanted to comfort Dream after these long, horrible months of separation and tell him that they were okay (even if they were anything but). He knew the blond was hurting as much as he was, and he wanted to hug him, to coddle him and say ‘I love you’ to his face.
He was hopeful and angry and nervous all at once, and if the plane didn’t land soon, George felt like he’d explode.
When George walked out of the airport, he felt like his stomach was all the way down in Hell. He was nervous, so nervous that he felt nauseous. He felt like he could throw up at any moment, but he held it back in favor of this big moment.
He was meeting his best friend for the first time. He was meeting Dream for the first time ever. He was seeing his best friend for the first time after not speaking for two months. It was a lot to take in. A lot to think about, but George knew he was ready. He’d practically been waiting his entire life for this moment, to be able to stay with his best friends forever.
Sapnap was picking him up, but it wasn’t as big of a deal since they’d already had their moment last winter when the brunet had visited him in England. The moment he was agonizing over was when he’d get in the car, when he’d see Dream.
His thoughts were stopped abruptly when a pair of arms wrapped around his middle. George could tell it was Sapnap just by his height, but he could also feel a signature baseball cap hitting against his shoulder.
The brunet mumbled, “Welcome home, Georgie,” into his back.
George smiled, thinking that maybe this was the start of something new. Maybe here he wouldn’t be so sad, so heartbroken. They were finally together, after all, things could only go up from there.
Things did not go upward after the airport.
When they reached the car, George saw Dream sitting in the passenger seat. He waited outside the car for a moment, thinking the blond would come out to say hi, to hug him, but nothing happened.
Dream stayed quiet in the passenger seat as George climbed in back.
He sat on the driver's side out of the idea that he wanted to see his best friend. He’d never seen what Dream looked like before, and now that they were going to live together, he deserved to take a look (even if the blond was acting like speaking to George was the worst thing on the planet).
The first thing George noticed about Dream was his freckles. They were a sweet, light brown color that dotted everywhere along the blond’s cheeks. They complimented dirty blonde hair, and brought out illustrious green eyes that George couldn’t see properly.
Dream was attractive, generally speaking. But the pout on his face made him look funny. Being angry, sad, was such a non-Dream thing. Usually, the blond would look on the bright side. He was a huge lovable optimist that George was proud to call his best friend. And, of course, Dream got sad sometimes, whenever the newest reason to cancel him came out to the public, or if something in his personal life went bad, but he always went to George for comfort. George was always the one to make him feel better.
But Dream looked more than upset. And George was right next to him.
The blond shifted in his seat, twisting around so that he finally faced George. Their eyes met for the first time, a conjoined sadness encompassing the space.
“Hey,” Dream said. His eyes looked sad, but his voice sounded sadder.
George had finally come home, so why was the blond still upset? Was George the thing that caused him pain?
“Hi,” George said back, frowning.
Sapnap got in the car a second later, breaking up their awkward meeting after finishing adding George’s luggage to the trunk. He was grinning, unaware of the tension between the other two. He looked at George in the rearview mirror, “Let’s get you home, yeah?”
Hours later, after a quiet house tour and delicate dinner, George was sat in his new bedroom.
He was under his blankets, curled in on himself, and there was a strong sense of deja vu killing him from inside of his chest. His first day here wasn’t at all what he wanted it to be. He moved across the world for his best friends, and one of them could hardly even look him in the eye. How was he supposed to feel at home here if he didn’t feel welcome?
George wanted to cry, but crying on his first night in a new country seemed weak. His friends had sacrificed so much for him to get here. George had sacrificed so much. It seemed unfair to throw all of that away with a few stray tears.
(He ended up crying anyway, wiping the tears away furiously with the oversized edges of his hoodie– the Dream hoodie he’d worn the whole day, and gotten not even a glance from the man himself.)
A knock on the door made George sniffle back his tears.
“Come in,” he mumbled into one of his blankets, trying to clear his tears before Sapnap saw him like this, saw him weak.
But when the door opened, brunet locks didn’t let themselves inside. Instead, there were blond waves and soft freckles and tear-stained cheeks.
George’s lips parted as he sat himself up against the pillows at his headboard. He tried to control his quivering lip and shaky hands, but it was of no use when Dream was there in front of him, unspeaking. It hurt too much to move, to think. He was reverted back to his crappy flat in England, back to the time of radio silence between them– and it felt like shit.
“I wanted to-” Dream started, fiddling with his fingers as he sat down at the edge of George’s bed. “I wanted to apologize.”
Apologize. George’s heart stopped at the words. Who was Dream to come to George while he was vulnerable and ask for forgiveness? It was so erroneous, and yet George wanted nothing more than to forgive the blond, to finally hold him all the way until morning.
“I’m sorry for today– I’m sorry for not talking to you. And I’m sorry for the past couple of months. I know I’ve been the worst best friend ever, and I’m sorry.” He was looking down, completely missing George’s gaze, and his leg was bouncing against the floor rapidly.
George, however, only had one thing to say. “Why?”
Dream finally looked up at that. George could see his droopy eye bags, his hooded eyes; he could tell the blond was upset, but it was all Dream’s fault in the first place.
“It took so long for your visa to finally arrive. It was so much waiting, so much of wanting you here with me while you were on the other side of the globe.” He took a deep breath. “It hurt so much whenever we talked because I knew you weren’t here. I didn’t know when you would get here, and every time I heard your voice, knowing you were all the way in England, I think it broke something inside of me.”
George frowned. “So not talking to me at all was the answer? How do you think I felt? I was living alone, I didn’t have a Sapnap to make me feel better all the time. How was shutting me out from my two best friends the best option for anyone?”
Dream pursed his lips, fidgeting at a loss of words to say. So, George said them for him, “And then today? If you were waiting so long for me to get here, then why was it so easy to ignore me? I thought you cared more than that.”
“Because I screwed everything up, George,” Dream said finally, sternly. “I screwed everything up by not talking to you, and I thought today would be amazing and great and the best thing to ever happen to me. And it was- is- the best thing to happen to me in a long time, but I was still missing you because things weren’t right between us. I hate fighting with you, and today was supposed to be perfect, but it wasn’t because I’m an idiot and I messed everything up.” He paused, inhaling a shaky breath along the way. “You’re half of my heart, George. I’m not complete without you.”
George gasped at the response. Dream needed him as much as he needed the other, he thought George was a part of his heart as well– the same way George believed Dream was all of his. Before he knew it, tears were streaming down his face. He couldn’t tell if they were happy or sad tears, but the answer was probably a little bit of both.
“George,” Dream said, voice as soft as cotton. He moved closer by the smallest inch. “Can I- can I hug you?”
The Brit shakily nodded, he moved closer and wrapped his arms around the blond’s back. He felt warmer instantaneously, safer too.
Strong arms found their way around George’s waist, and he was pulled closer until the only thing he could even fathom was Dream. There was nothing in this world that mattered more than the two of them hugging. George knew they would be okay, finally.
It would take some time, and loads of talking, but they would be okay.
Dream whispered calming words into the tops of George’s hair, and the brunet had to fight even more tears back. They were happy tears now, though. He was happy to be starting this new chapter of his life with his best friends. With Dream.
They would be okay eventually, they always were.