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George knows it's hypocritical. He knows that, but it doesn't make the shame when seeing his reflection go away.
It's just a scar. Just a scar, and a relatively thin scar at that, the doctor stitched him up great. But still, George can't help but scowl when he sees it.
After nine months of his belly rounding out and stretch marks crisscrossing his skin, George didn't care what he looked like. He'd been growing his and Dream's baby, he had no issue with that. It makes no sense that George wants to get this stupid scar lasered off, he should be fine with it, it's just another sign of how he brought Sadie into the world, a forever reminder of his baby girl.
Maybe it's because he didn't want a caesarean. He wanted to give birth naturally, that had been the plan, but his stupid body failed him at the last minute. The scar is less of a treasured memory of Sadie being born, and more a permanent symbol of how George is not good enough, how he nearly failed.
It's been fifteen weeks, and it doesn't look like the scar is leaving any time soon. George may be one of the unlucky few who never get to see it fade away.
"And we say hi mommy!" Dream coos to Sadie, taking her arm gently and waving it when George trudges into the nursery, rubbing at the remnants of sleep in his eyes.
"Hi Sadie." George smiles at them both, heart warming and his earlier frustration melting away. "We gonna say hi daddy too?"
Sadie babbles at him, and makes grabby hands, George more than happy to take his daughter into his arms, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Tiny pudgy fingers clutch at his hair, and Sadie gives him a gummy smile with a burble.
Dream buries his face in George's hair, and kisses the top of his head. "She's had her breakfast. Was very grumpy when she realised it was a bottle morning."
"Silly sausage." George caresses Sadie's cheek. "You have to let daddy feed you sometimes. He gets sad and jealous if only I feed you."
Sadie faceplants onto his shoulder, and Dream winds an arm around George's waist, bumping their heads together.
"Our little cutie."
Dream kisses George again, then steps back, stretching. His t-shirt rides up, and George's gaze flickers to the scar that loops around his stomach and dips at his hips. It's been 4 years since Dream had his surgery, and George still feels a hitch in his throat looking at the scarred skin sometimes.
George has been a little bit obsessed with it. He was obsessed as it was healing - grumpy when Dream had the audacity to jump around on stage at his concert's while he should have been resting, gentle when applying soothing cream where the scar loops to his back, doting when Dream complained about the itchiness. And then it was healed, and it stopped being so red and angry, the colour fading a little instead, becoming a part of Dream's skin, becoming a new mark for George to memorise and trail his fingers over.
It makes George feel so proud. The scar is a testament to all the hard work Dream has put in. Proof of Dream's dedication to his goals, proof of how firmly Dream stands by his resolutions, proof of Dream's willpower. It's everything Dream, and that's probably why George loves it too much.
Dream notices George looking, and smiles, lifting his t-shirt a little higher. Sadie garbles into George's shoulder, then twists to look at her father.
"Your mommy is kind of obsessed with me, Sadie. He's so silly! Silly mommy." Dream leans closer to her, and George adjusts her on his hip so she can face Dream fully. "I love your little scar too, sweetheart. My brave little girl. Everyone's gonna be so amazed by you whenever they see it. My strong baby girl. It's a bit like you and mommy and me all match now! That's so cute."
George swallows a lump in his throat at Dream's words, and holds Sadie a bit tighter, fingertips trailing to rest over the tiny scar on her back.
His labour had been nightmarish. Worse than he could have imagined. It had all been fine, all been normal, until the doctor gently told him that there was an issue. That Sadie, unborn and so, so fragile, was showing signs of great distress. That his baby girl might not make it if they didn't perform a caesarean.
As sick as the idea of his insides being taken out made him, George didn't hesitate. He doesn't regret the decision, not at all, the memory just sends pangs of guilt and nausea through him, like he's back on the hospital bed sobbing his eyes out, Dream holding his hand tightly as doctors and nurses swarmed him.
The scar doesn't make George think of Sadie, not really. It's a reminder of the worst few hours of his life, stuck in a ward getting stitched up and struggling to breathe with the knowledge that a few rooms away, his daughter was being operated on.
She'd had a tumour on the small of her back. Not massive, just benign (though that was still contentious at the time) but still the scariest thing George has ever known. Made even scarier when the doctors did not even give George enough time to cradle her, just whisked her away and told him to rest. Dream had been crying, George had been crying, Sadie had probably also been crying...
It's truly the worst day George has ever had, and labelling it that is torturous. It was Sadie's birthday. The day he became a mother, the day he and Dream started their family, the day the world's most perfect little girl finally arrived, and George labelled it the worst day.
His scar is all of those emotions trapped inside of him, and it's not going away.
Sadie's little scar also makes George's heart pang. A permanent symbol of how her first ever experience of the world must have been so terrifying, being sliced open not even an hour after taking her first breath.
George doubts the guilt will ever leave him.
Gently, George rocks Sadie in his arms, brushing his finger over her cheek as her little eyes flutter closed, quiet burbles falling from her lips. Even after he's certain she's asleep, he doesn't stop cradling her. Putting her down just feels too hard.
"I can put her in the crib." Dream stands, reaching out, and George just holds Sadie tighter.
"No. We're cuddling."
"But I wanna cuddle you." Dream huffs, and leans on George's side. "I'm your husband, I need my George time."
"Sadie's our daughter. She needs mummy time." George keeps his voice soft, studying his baby's face for any signs of restlessness.
"Ughh, good point. I guess I can let you off then." Dream smiles, and tilts George's chin to look at him. George loves when Dream does that, gently guiding his face with his hands. "She's got a wonderful mommy, I can understand why she wants so much time with him."
It's stupid. George blushes anyway, smiling fondly at his silly idiot husband, and at times like this he could melt into the couch with how full his heart is.
Dream kisses him, lips soft, and George sighs happily into it, eyes closing. Dream holds him, and he holds Sadie, and George knows his family is definitely the best thing in the entire world.
And then Dream's hand lowers, and his thumb caresses the ugliest part of him.
George's eyes snap open, and he fights the urge to whack Dream's hand away, Sadie sleeping in his arms the only reason he doesn't. But his whole body tenses, and Dream must feel it, as he pulls back.
"Sorry. Did that hurt? Babe, if it's not healing by now we should maybe go see a doctor, I thought it had scarred over?"
"'S fine." George grunts. "It is healing."
"Honey, a c-section is like... It was a pretty big operation, if it's gotten infected since the stitches got taken out-"
"It's fine." George huffs, half of his focus dedicated to keeping his tone low and his arms steady. "Just don't touch it."
"Georgie. I-"
"It's healed, Clay." George clicks his tongue. "I just hate it. That's all. It's a scar, and it's ugly, that's all."
"... Oh."
The room goes quiet, Sadie's soft snuffling breaths the loudest thing George can hear. He replays his sentence in his head and looks at Dream's downturned gaze.
"I didn't mean... It's not - Your scars aren't ugly."
"Considering they're a lot bigger than yours is-"
"No. No, Clay, come on." George rests his head to the back of the couch. "Yours are so good. Yours are good scars. It's like... You're so dedicated, and determined, and incredible, so inspiring to so many people. That's what yours are."
"And yours isn't?" Dream raises his brows. "George. You- You made a human being. You gave us a family, you made me a father, you went through labour and literally exhausted your body to make the most perfect little girl in the world, how is that not dedication? Or determination, or inspiring, or... I am never going to stop being amazed by that. That's what your scar is George, that's like a physical symbol of your love."
"No." George shakes his head. "It's not. It's the worst hours of our lives. It's that my stupid body didn't grow our baby properly, that I wasn't good enough, that I nearly endangered her. That I gave Sadie a tumour, that our baby's first moments were scary and awful and terrible."
Dream doesn't reply for a second. George isn't surprised, there is no real argument to be made. He's right, and Dream can't deny it.
"That's not what I see, George." Dream whispers. "I think that just adds to the bravery of it all. We were so scared, and on top of that fear, you had to get stitched up. The whole time you were still bleeding, still had your belly sliced open, you were so adamant that all the doctors focused on Sadie. So determined to stay conscious in case you missed the smallest update, only passing out when you made me promise to keep an eye on her? George. How am I not meant to be in love with it? It's the story of our daughter's birth, as scary as it was, that's what happened. And you were so brave, and so strong, so loving. And you're both okay. The fact that you and Sadie have healed scars instead of infected wounds is proof of that."
George chokes back a sob. "It's not fair, Clay. I didn't want it. I didn't want it to happen like that, it's not fair."
"I know baby." Dream caresses his cheek, and George feels a tear slip out. "I know. It isn't fair. I know it's not how you wanted to give birth. But it happened, sweetheart. We can't change that. And look, it all worked out. It all worked out, you're healthy and safe, Sadie's healthy and safe. Sadie's here with us, alive, because you didn't hesitate to change what you wanted. You didn't give her the tumour, and it is not your fault she needed surgery before she could be with us. You and your body did an amazing job. People just get unlucky. And even then, Georgie... We are lucky. We have her, here. With us."
"My baby." George sniffles, eyes getting wetter. "I just wanted to hold her."
"I know honey." Dream kisses him where his cheek meets his eye. "I know. But you've got her now. She's here now. In your arms. Safe and sound, and so so loved. She knows she's loved, Georgie. Sadie's known love since the first time she looked at you. Promise."
George knows that's mostly bullshit, that a newborn baby probably does not know what the concept of love is, let alone whether or not they feel it, but he decides to believe Dream anyway. He cries a bit more, and Dream glides his fingertips up and down the scar from his caesarean, nothing but adoration falling from his lips.
It reminds George of when he silently pressed kisses along Dream's scars once they'd healed, in an effort to prove how much he loves them.
Dream's giving him verbal kisses, sure to be physical once Sadie's no longer in his arms.
And if, in the future, Sadie ever has any doubts about the little scar on her back, George knows he and Dream will give her kisses too.