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Chapter Text

Chapter Text

George came back the next day as he’d promised. Dream was there, reading some book about The Art of War. He didn’t look up from it as George walked it, only a curt nod towards the book. George nodded back, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

This was how most of the days went by. 

George would clean and Dream would do whatever Dream did. Usually, he wasn’t around, usually checking out the military or attending some boring meeting. And when he was around, he was busy reading some books or sleeping. 

It was better if Dream wasn’t here, because then George would be left alone with his thoughts and could slack off if he wanted to. He didn’t though because even though Dream didn’t show the same consideration.

What had George expected?

When he asked himself this, he came up empty. What had he expected? Dream and George to become friends? To actually have a good and healthy relationship that wasn’t just them curtly nodding? Or maybe it was something deeper. But George didn’t explore, he tried focusing on the tasks he had ahead of him. Cleaning. 

That was how most of his days were spent. Thinking in circles, boring himself to death and torturing himself with thoughts of change. 

Over the weeks he’d grown more used to seeing Dream’s face. He’d gone from never seeing it unless he was giving a public speech or roaming around the halls, to seeing it almost everyday. He’d taken in the curve of his jaw, his startling green eyes and dotted freckles, scattered across his face.

George sighed and buried his head in his hands and then stood shakily and shook his head clear of thoughts. He quietly opened the door to leave and get some fresh air. He locked eyes with Dream, covered in blood. 

George gasped, stepping backwards involuntarily as Dream shouted, shoving past him. 

“It’s not mine!” He shouted, pushing past George into the room. George turned on his heel and stared as Dream desperately tried stemming the obvious blood flow. “It isn’t mine!” He protested again. “Mostly.” He muttered. 

George rolled his eyes, gently manuverouring Dream to the bed and forcing him to sit. Dream looked like he was about to protest but George placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. Dream scoffed but remained quiet, watching as George got out a first aid kit. 

“Where?” George asked as he set it up on the bed. 

“Collar, up high.” He explained. 

George nodded, trying to unstick the shirt that was plastered to Dream’s chest by blood. He gave up, simply cutting it away with a knife. Dream gave an approving grunt, which George took with pride. 

George braced himself for the sight. He wasn’t really one for seeing gore and blood but wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to show off to the prince. 

It was deep, but not cut to the bone. 

“Yikes,” George commented, taking out a needle as Dream chuckled. 

“You think that’s bad.” Dream asked, scoffing. 

“Don’t. Don’t finish that sentence.” George said, holding up his hand to silence Dream. He laughed but remained silent anyway. 

“Anyway,” George continued, glaring at Dream. “It’s deep enough for stitches, so hold still.” Dream scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. 

“I’ve had stitches before, George.” He corrected with a smirk. 

“This will hurt a lot.” George continued talking as if Dream hadn’t spoken. He passed Dream a stick. “So bite down, so you don’t scream.” He ordered. 

Dream rolled his eyes and snapped the stick in half. “I don’t need your dumb stick. I can handle the pain.” He said. 

“Okay, Mister Dramatic,” George replied, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes back. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, idiot.” He began and snuck a look at Dream and he sewed the skin back together. Dream didn’t make a noise, maybe an occasional moan or grunt. His teeth were gritted and a sheen of sweat glistened at the base of his forehead. 

“Okay, done,” George said, cheerily. Dream let out a groan as George packed up his stuff. Suddenly, it hit him. How did Dream know his name? George had never told Dream it because Dream never asked. “By the way,” he started, casually. “How did you know my name?” 

Dream gave him a confused look. “Your name?” 

“Yeah.”

“I don’t.” He replied, his voice squeaking at the end. 

“You aren’t a very good liar.” George inferred. 

“I know.” Dream said and then after a long pause, he blushed. “I asked the head maid okay! It doesn’t matter!” He yelled, defensively. 

George blinked, shocked. He’d never seen Dream look so flushed before. It looked so unnatural but somehow perfect. It broke the illusion that Dream was some robot, unable to feel any real emotions.

“Okay, okay, whatever. You don’t have to get so defensive.” He said, chuckling. 

Dream threw a pillow at him, smiling. 

They stared at each other as the laughter died out slowly. 

“Hey.” Dream said, breaking the silence. “Thanks for helping me I guess.” He thanked, nervously. 

“How did you get it?” George asked, tapping his foot. 

“How did I get what?” He asked, mocking innocence. 

“You know what I mean,” George answered, suspiciously. 

“Fine.” Dream relented. “I was walking around the military camp when I heard this kid talking shit about my sister. He and his friend. He was me walking and said something like ‘Hey look, it’s Prince Dream walking around like he owns the fucking place. I’d like to put him into place.’” 

George listened quietly. It wasn’t uncommon for citizens to talk crudely to the Royal Kingdom. What was strange was the fact that Dream heard and did nothing. George once heard that Dream ripped a man apart for saying something rude to his bedridden sister. 

“Usually, I don’t care. I never have. His friend laughed at that but covered it up with a cough. But what got him was the fact that he said, ‘Oh, and his hot ass sister. God, I’d love to make her my-’” 

He cut off, giving George a pointed look. “You kinda know what I mean.” George nodded, he did. It also wasn’t uncommon for prostitutes to roam the city streets, starving and desperate for money. It wasn’t uncommon for people to joke about doing things to the Princesses.

“So I challenged him to a fight and-”

“Did he beat you?” George asked. 

“No.” He chuckled, humorlessly. “I beat him so hard, he wouldn’t be able to walk for months. No-one. No one talks about my sister like that.” He said, angrily. “And then he did something dishonourable. He pulled out a knife and tried to kill me. Or hurt me.” 

George was rattled into silence. Doing something like that was akin to throwing away your life with both hands. Dream continued. 

“I suppose he thought I was easy to take on since I was a prince or whatever.”

He couldn’t be more wrong. George thought, hiding a smile. 

“He couldn’t be more wrong.” Dream echoed. George tried to hide his smile again but failed, laughing. Dream rewarded him with a smile. 

They sat in silence. 

“Hey.” Dream said, breaking the silence again. “Wanna meet my sister? My younger sister.” 

“Yeah,” George answered, smirking. “But maybe after I’ve cleaned. I doubt your sister would appreciate you coming to her room covered in blood.” 

Dream nodded. “That may not be the wisest decision.” He agreed. George rummaged through the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of clothes, tossing it towards Dream. “Get changed.” He said. Dream began stripping, right in front of George. 

“Not in front of me!” George squeaked.

“What, why?” He asked, confused. He was halfway towards taking off his shirt. 

“Because!” George protested. 

“Okay. Okay.” He muttered, obliging and moving to the bathroom. George started removing the bloodstained mattress and replaced it with a clean, fresh one. He  had finished when Dream came, showered and cleaned. He tossed his bloodied clothes at George and he caught it adding it to the pile with the bedsheet. 

He dumped them into the washing basket for later and then smiled at Dream. 

Dream bowed and George returned the bow, Dream afterwards grabbing his hands and leading him around the maze of rooms and areas. Eventually, through many dead ends and wrong turns, they arrived outside the door. 

Dream reached for the door handle, about to open the door. 

“Wait! Shouldn’t we knock!” George protested, too late. 

Dream turned, opening the door and revealing the insides. 

///

Drista had a secret for as long as she could remember. She remembered the first time she’d tried. It hadn’t been on purpose, she swore. She remembered listening outside the door of her eldest sister’s room. The doctor was telling her father and sister that her sister was due to die soon and that her soul was growing increasingly sick. 

Drista had wished, wished with all her might that her sister would get better. She did. To some extent. She remembered seeing her sister roaming the halls. The very first time Drista had actually seen her sister. Father had instantly sent her to her room again when she told him she was feeling much better. DreamXD had gotten very mad and began talking to himself in angry tones about how he needed to add more magic and he was getting soft in his old age.

 Except, his mouth hadn’t moved and he hadn’t made a sound. It was like he was talking directly into his brain. He seemed to sense someone in his mind because Drista heard a booming “Who’s there!” Before she was flung, forcefully, out of his head. But she simply pursed her lips and acted as if nothing had happened to not arouse suspicion. Surely enough, her father wandered off without so much of a word to her.

But his aura began to sicken her. After the incident with DreamXD she’d been sick for days with nausea and a massive headache. After that, she stayed out of her father’s way. 

But Drista knew that what had happened wasn’t an accident. Something had shifted in her then, allowing a stream of random events to happen. Drista’s clothes levitating, healing Dream of his cough and other things that Drista couldn’t explain. 

So one day, she stole her father’s books from his own study and began studying magic. She found she had a natural talent for it. Everything in the book came easy to her, including invisibility spells, spells for spying on people and hiding things which made it increasingly easy to sneak and get more books, eavesdrop and spy on her older sister.  

And after that day, she lost trust in her father. Hearing those dark thoughts made her question his motives, something she’d never done before. 

In the earlier days, DreamXD had a more violent way of making them compliant. Drista had familiarized herself with her father’s moods and become numb to pain. Those were terrible times. Most days resulted in Drista crying herself to sleep. 

But at least it drew her closer to her older brother, Dream. Dream was used to being beat regularly, he was very stubborn and headstrong and would defend Drista no matter what. He would take her beatings, get up and walk away. Drista used to worship him as a kid. And then she grew up and they just became siblings.

She loved Dream a lot and would forgive him for anything. Even if the world was against them she’d never stop loving hi-

Dream barged into the room, without knocking, dragging some brown-haired boy behind him. Drista saw a flash of white and Dream holding his sword up to George, ready to strike. The image quickly faded, leaving Drista very disorientated. 

Her magic stuff was splayed everywhere messily and it was floating everywhere as she was preparing to use a new cleaning spell she’d picked up. The items dropped quickly and she stood. 

“Cl- Dream! What did I say about coming into my room without knocking!?” She yelled, chucking a book at him. Dream dodged it easily, grabbing it out of the air. He grinned at Drista. Chuckling, he turned it over to read the title and Drista paled. That was a magic book. Dream didn’t know Drista did magic. 

“‘Magic Healings: Limitations and Potentials’” Dream read, his expression slowly turning into confusion. “Drista, why are you reading this?” He asked, slowly. The boy behind him looked very confused. All Drista could see was him cowering as Dream-

“Drista! Explain! This is very dangerous, Drista. You could get hurt or-” 

“I know, C- Dream! I’m not a child anymore, you can’t boss me around!” She shot back, her cheeks burning.

“I know that it’s just…” Dream paused, collecting himself. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, painfully.

Drista winced. He knew right where to hit her. “Because you didn’t ask.” She said, rolling her eyes. “All you do now is stay in your room and train.” She pointed out. 

Dream sighed, pushing his blonde hair back. “S’pose you’re right, we both haven’t been good siblings.” He admitted. 

“You mean you haven’t been a good sibling, right?” Drista asked, innocently. Dream glared at her and then pulled the brunette towards him. 

“Tell me about all this later, okay. Meet George now.” He said, successfully changing the subject. 

So that’s who the mystery boy was. 

“Hi.” ‘George’ said, shyly. “I’m sorry for not knocking but you probably know how Dream is.” He said, rolling his eyes. 

“I do,” Drista answered, smiling pointedly at Dream. “Annoying, loud and stubborn as a mule.”

“I think you’re talking about yourself, Drista.” Dream retorted, feigning hurt. 

“Nope. I’m definitely talking about you.” Drista said, smirking. Dream made a noise of protest and was about to voice his protest when Drista cut him off. “Nice to meet you, George,” Drista said, curtsying. 

“And you.” George replied, bowing. 

“Okaay.” Dream muttered. “Time to get going, George. Drista, we’re gonna have a chat later, okay.” 

Drista rolled his eyes as he took George by hand and let him out. 

Drista tried to act normal but the vision of Dream slashing towards George swam across her vision. She got up and slammed the door behind them, collapsing onto it.

Chapter Text

It was common knowledge that DreamXD’s wife had passed away. It could be blamed on a pair of loose lips. It was narrowed down to the Funeral Director, who was meant to organize a ‘discrete’ funeral until he let it slip and the rumour spread like wildfire and the entire kingdom showed up. Including George, when he was seven.

He only remembered being dragged to it by his parents and Dream. Dream had been so young then. His eyes were downcast and respectful. He hid his tears well. That day, their eyes had met, briefly. Enough for George to memorize the way Dream’s eyes had locked onto his own. George had resisted the urge to run, far away. 

When he looked back on the memory, he scoffed and sometimes outright laughed at how Dream had been scary even back then, when he was seven. 

DreamXD was even scarier though. The man roamed the hall eerily, his eyes were always watching, even when they weren’t visibly. Sometimes maids and butlers disappeared leaving behind empty beds and even belongings. The maids usually let some secrets slip, gossiped or made smaller overlooked offences. 

George’s own mother had warned him to keep his head down and not talk back. She’d grasped him on the shoulders and stared at him straight in his eyes. “George, when you’re there, remember to keep your head down. Do not talk back. Do not make eye contact. Be punctual. Do what you’re told.” She said, pulling him into a hug. George had blinked away tears and said his farewells, before leaving. 

A lot of good that advice did me. George thought bitterly as he was led down the numerous halls and doors in broad daylight. “Dreeeam!” He protested as Dream continued, extremely fast. “Dream slow down, you’ll pull my arm out of its socket.” Dream glanced back, stifling a laugh. He didn’t slow down.

“Oh haha. Where are we going?” He asked, for the fourteenth time. Probably. 

“You keep asking me, and yet you receive no answer.” Dream answered, with amusement lacing his voice. 

“Dream,” George whined, dragging his feet behind Dream. Dream practically dragged him into the next room, opening the door with flourish. 

“We’re here.” Dream said, a little bit unnecessary. George barely heard the sound over of his own astonishment. 

It was a library. A huge one. The shelves were taller than Dream and George stacked on top of each other, each of them were stuffed with books. It was also extremely dusty and the paint had peeled off the bookcases. George’s mouth hung open in surprise. He glanced behind him, where Dream nodded. 

George turned back, wasting no time. He ran his finger across the spines of the books, creating a thin layer of dust on his index finger, and a thin line of dust-free spines on the book. He smiled back at Dream who shook his head, amused. George wasted no time with a reaction, combing the aisles of books with fascination and curiosity. He almost immediately found a book and sat curled on a dusty armchair, reading it. He didn’t even notice Dream sitting next to him. 

“Interested?” He asked, causing George to jump up. George sat down, flushed as Dream dissolved into laughter. 

“Shut up,” George said, smacking Dream with the book. Dream rubbed his head, smirking. “You did that on purpose.” George accused, trying to find his page. 

Dream hit him with an innocent smile. “No way. I would never do that.” He said, raising his arms in defense. 

“Suure.” George replied, muttering a quiet huzzah as he reached his page. He continued reading, his eyes scanning the words, absorbing every piece of information. He didn’t even realize that the day had quickly turned into evening as he looked up, closing the book abruptly. The dust flew everywhere. 

He noticed Dream’s intense stare over George startled George. He still didn’t know how Dream’s eyes managed to look so dark and bright at the same time. 

“Quit staring.” George teased, pushing Dream’s face away. Dream shook his head. 

“I wasn’t staring, dammit. I was…” He paused. He buried his head in his hands, turning beet red. 

“You were...what, Dream?” George said, smugly. 

“You get this really intense look on your face whenever you read.” He said, out of the blue. 

Now George turned red. “What?” He spluttered. “I do not, creep.” 

Dream smiled smugly, unfazed. “You sure do.” 

George opened his mouth to argue but Dream cut him off. “We should go to dinner now.” He said, reaching to grasp George’s hand. George pulled his hand back, quickly. It was so unintentional yet, George saw Dream’s face turn from cocky confidence to hurt. George winced. He grabbed Dream’s hand instead, dragging him to the exit. “This time,” he said, smiling, “I’m leading you.” 

Dinner was nothing special. At least maybe according to Dream. For George it was mouthwateringly tempting to just grab the plate of Dream and stuff himself. Dream wouldn’t mind but, as George looked around he realized that everyone else would. Except maybe Drista, who was giving him a very anxious look. He would ask her about it later. 

The atmosphere took a huge deep dive into the pit after the head butler announced that ‘the Prince and Princess should not begin eating because they would soon be graced by the presence of their father.’

George caught Dream rolling his eyes but could see the anxiety building up behind his eyes. 

DreamXD must be a scary guy. George thought, feeling his own anxiety rising. He didn’t even attempt to look at Drista. After a short time, a tall figure entered the dining hall.

Scary didn’t do this man justice. His very presence made George weak in the knees and he wasn’t the only one. Maids and Butlers alike were looking close to passing out. Even the head Butler looked queasy. He mopped the sweat off his head. Dream stared straight ahead, his gaze unwavering. Drista had become ten shades paler and looked very close to vomiting. 

George followed Dream’s example, keeping his face passive despite the emotions churning under his expression. His mother’s advice continued replaying in his head over and over again. 

Dinner was served. In the kitchen, young and new servants who had never served DreamXD before were briefed about basic etiquette and told to generally stay away from the King for obvious reasons. As they filed out, he heard one of the maids mention that DreamXD had executed someone for spilling wine. 

George tried not to let that shake him but his hands couldn’t stop shaking as he placed a plate of chicken and various vegetables in front of Drista. She shot him a nervous look that made George want to scream and shake her uncontrollably. 

You’re meant to be reassuring! He scream-thought.

He turned his hands into fists and walked into the kitchen. “This ones for His Majesty.” The chef said, sweat glistening down his forehead. 

“Oh, I’m not allowed to serve the King,” George said, quietly. 

“Does it look like I care? I have bigger fish to fry, literally. Like living the day.” He said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. 

Gulping, George grabbed the dish and hurried to the dining hall, but made sure to be careful because the second a single thing dropped he would be finished for good. He made it to the hall, carefully walking through. Tension seemed to rise as he entered, one of the maids outright fainted, DreamXD paid no attention. His eyes were locked onto George’s. George forced his hands to stop shaking and placed down the meal, before bowing his head and backing away. 

Before he could leave, DreamXD’s hand shot out and grabbed George’s wrist. George resisted the urge to immediately pull out his hand and run. DreamXD smiled, gently. George wondered how his hand could be so cold and lifeless.

“What’s your name?” He asked, his voice deep and pleasant. Like velvet. 

“George, Your Majesty,” George answered, respectfully. 

DreamXD opened his mouth to ask more questions but Dream cut him off. “Father, this boy...George; He’s terrified.” Dream said, masking his anxiety with a chuckle. 

DreamXD chuckled as well. “Very well. Nice job, boy. Not many people can serve without spilling everything.” He said, letting go of George’s wrist. George tried not to make it look too desperate as he snatched it back with relief. 

He shot Dream a thankful glance, but Dream wasn’t looking at him. He looked bored.

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch. Until the very end. 

Most of the staff were a bit more relaxed now, calming down but still very tense. People kept shooting George with anxious and angry looks. Either way George was in trouble but he’d much rather be in trouble with the head butler and maid than DreamXD. 

George was still trying to process the brief interaction with the king and the confusing exchange. Why was Drista and Dream so tense around DreamXD? Rumors that DreamXD used to beat his children weren’t uncommon either, in fact it was the most active one. It had started years and years ago and DreamXD had done nothing to stamp it out, in fact it was almost like he wanted people to know of his treatment of his children. 

If I’m not afraid to hurt my own children, think of what I’ll be unafraid to do to you. 

And looking at how Dream and Drista act around him, it didn’t take a genius to figure the rumor to be true. 

And they were going so well until DreamXD rested his chin on his hands and said, “Dream, please come to my quarters tomorrow.” Dream nodded, his mouth opening to respond but DreamXD cut him off, saying, “Bring the boy servant too.” He said, loosely gesturing to George. 

George felt his entire body freeze, he felt his inability to breathe. He kept his eyes down and tried to not react too much. Why? Did he do something wrong while serving DreamXD? Was it because of what Dream said? 

Dream gave no indication of caring. “Yes, of course, Father.” He answered, flatly. George felt his heart drop even more. Didn’t Dream care? George was going to die. 

“Good. Great.” DreamXD said, his smile widening. “See you then. Goodnight Dream, goodnight Drista.” He finished, standing up and leaving. 

The staff collectively breathed out a sigh of relief, some sparing glances of concern at George. George’s first impulse was to run, once again. But what about Dream? Dream would be punished if George didn’t turn up. 

The rest of the royal family filed out, Dream bringing up the rear. He looked miserable. George decided it was best if he confronted Dream later, instead he filed out like the rest of the staff and pretended to sleep for the rest of the night. He got no sleep and didn’t even know why he’d bothered. 

George slid out of bed and tiptoed down the servant quarters and wandered down the halls and somehow ended up at Dream’s door. 

He knocked on it, sure that Dream was awake. Surely enough, Dream answered immediately. He looked like a mess, his head was tousled and very messy and there were bags under his eyes. As soon as he saw George his eyes widened and he tried slamming the door, George put his hand in the middle, knowing Dream wouldn’t hurt him. 

Dream glared at him, leaving the door alone. “George, it would be better if you left now.” He hissed.

“No, and you can’t make me. Dream, why are you acting as if you don’t know me?” George asked, quietly. 

“It’s not..” Dream started, instead he just grabbed George’s arm and hauled him into the room shutting it behind him. 

“George, it would be better now if we didn’t interact, alright? You’re just my personal servant, that’s all.” Dream said, once George had settled in. George immediately sat up, a protest on his lips. Dream silenced him with a weary look. 

“Why?” George whispered. Dream’s expression turned into a pained one. 

“George. Just leave.” He said, quietly. George stared at Dream for a moment and when he wouldn’t meet his eyes, George just dashed past him, slamming open the door and dashing through. 

“George!” Dream called after him, but George didn’t look back. 

He spent the rest of the night on a part of the castle roof and somehow managed to sleep. He woke up at the crack of dawn, making his way to the servant quarters just as the headcount was done. 

No-one bothered him. 

He didn’t attend to his duties.

Still no-one bothered him.

I must really be a dead man. George thought with a touch of bitterness and maybe some laughing denial. His laughs became half sobs and he shook his head to clear it.

Then he dressed in his best clothes and finally combed his hair so it didn’t look like a rat’s nest. Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, he surveyed himself and wondered how he was feeling. 

He found, miraculously, he didn’t feel too bad, considering he was about to die. And before he knew it, his hands rested on the wooden doornob of DreamXD’s office. Pausing for a moment, he rested his cheek on the cold marble. The stone sucked the heat from his cheek and George sighed, wondering if he should just run anyway. 

It wasn’t like Dream cared about him anymore, right?

Right. Dream threw him away, just like he threw away his meals while people like George starved. The second Dream looked at his father, he was reminded of how he can’t afford to toy with servant boys. 

He was about to turn and leave when he slammed into what seemed like a brick wall. 

“Leaving so soon?” Dream asked, softly. George’s eyes locked onto Dream’s trying to find that old spark he thought they had. He found an empty void. He turned around, stepping aside so Dream could open the door. 

Dream’s expression shifted into sadness as he pulled open the door. George felt a twinge of sadness too but suppressed it, following behind him. They were led to an office and let in. Surely enough, DreamXD sat there, staring into space and smiling. His smile widened even more as his attention shifted to the duo. 

“Please, boys, sit.” He offered, gesturing to two seats. Dream and George awkwardly sat in their seats like school children. 

“Thanks for coming, guys. I kinda thought at least one of you would chicken out.” He said, cheerfully. Was George imagining the pointed glare directed to him?

“Dream.” He began, he picked up sheets of paper, sifting through them. 

“Yes, father.” Dream answered.

“A couple of weeks ago, I was informed that you attacked one of our military trainees. Did you attack him out of your uncontrollable temper, or for a reason?” He asked. “Remember, I will know if you lie.”

Dream’s hands balled into fists and he replied, managing to keep his voice level and emotionless. “The boy insulted Drista. You know how I feel about that.” He answered. 

“Right answer. Since it’s justified, I’ll let you off.” DreamXD said, chuckling. “But we will have to pay for his hospital fees, etcetera. Small money though.” 

George tried not to let his fury and confusion show on his face. Small money? That’d probably pay for food for years to come. DreamXD seemed to be staring right at him, his smirk became more pronounced as George stared resentfully at the floor. 

“But, I’ll get to more serious things.” He said, waving his hands. The papers dropped into the bin. “George, you must be wondering why you’re actually here.” 

George nodded. “Yes, sir.” He said respectfully, despite the anger boiling in him. 

“Dream, I’m going to ask you some questions. Answer honestly.” He said, dismissing George’s answer. George watched as Dream nodded, looking somehow paler. “You specifically asked for George, right.” 

George stared at his hands, confused. Why did that matter? 

“Yes.” Dream answered, tightly. 

“Yes..what?” DreamXD prodded, looking somewhat annoyed. 

“Yes, father.” 

“You’ve had George as your servant for four months?”

“Yes, sir.” Dream deadpanned. “Father, why does it matter?” He protested. 

“Just answer the questions, Dream. Now, are you falling in love with George.” DreamXD asked, abandoning his ‘good’ persona to stare Dream dead in the eyes. George flushed in confusion. 

Dream was silent. George spared a glance at him. Startled, he found Dream staring him dead in the eyes. He sighed, opening his mouth to probably deny his affection for George. Go on. George dared, in his mind. Do it, you asshole. 

Instead Dream stood up so fast his chair hit the ground. He grabbed George and they slammed into the door together.

///

Dream picked up George, hauling the boy to his feet. Survive. Survive. Survive . Dream resisted the urge to block his ears as he and George ran down corridors. 

“Dream! What are you doing?” George screamed, behind him. “Let me go!”

“George, if he catches you he’s going to kill you.” Dream said, urgently.  

“Catch me doing what?” He asked, panting. 

“George I-'' Dream started, slowing down. He spoke again only to be interrupted. 

“It’s them!” Someone called and Dream started running again, guards chasing at their heels. 

If ever there was a time for George to trust Dream it was now, and George did. 

“Follow me.” George said, his eyes dark and determined. Dream followed him and watched as he opened a secret hatch in the cellar that even Dream didn’t know off. 

“Go first.” Dream said, nudging George. 

“No, you don’t know how to close it properly. Go first.” Under other circumstances, Dream would have refused but George had a point. 

“Alright.” He agreed, going down the hatch. For a brief moment, while George was about to go down, guard shouting got louder and George turned around and then turned back, his eyes holding onto Dream’s. 

“Run. Run until you see the light. Go.” He whispered and let go of Dream’s hand. The hatch closed and locked, leaving Dream hanging onto the ladder in the dark. If he listened hard enough, he could hear the guards arresting George.

Desperately, he tried opening it. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be him.

“It was meant to be me.” He whispered, hoarsely. He couldn’t let George’s sacrifice be in vain. Dream climbed down and began running down the tunnel.