Uninvited

Chapter Twenty Five|Gone

As soon as George was back in his arms, Dream forgot about the world.

He didn't wonder why the boy was bleeding from small cuts, or why he was covered in bruises. He didn't wonder why the smaller boy was shaking when he had collapsed into his arms.

He just wrapped his arms around him and dropped to his knees with him, burying his face in the nape of his neck. His shoulders shook, and he was purposely not holding the boy too tight. He didn't want to hurt him.

George was just frozen for a moment, staring into space for a while. Dream recognized that he was still in shock about everything that had happened.

But then something in the smaller boy clicked, and then he was looking at Dream with wide, frantic eyes, grabbing onto the demon like he was his lifeline.

Sapnap left when the wailing started.

George was weeping for his mother and his father, for the life he only just now realized would never be the same. He wept for the way of life he had lost, wept for his past self. He wept for the person he used to be, the person he hated being.

He wept for everything he had ever lost, even if he had never realized he had it in the first place.

Dream pulled the boy close as his shrieking echoed, his sobs and gasping breaths emptying into the air around them and bouncing infinitely in Dreams head.

He knew that from this moment forward, those sounds of absolute loss would never leave his memory.

George had gone through everything he thought would be impossible just a month ago. Every possible worst-case scenario came to a dreadful conclusion right here, where the boy was sobbing into his jacket.

George's parents had both died gruesome deaths.

Dream remembered every time that George had nightmares about scenarios very similar to this.

Horrible car accidents with no explanation.

Going missing for so long they were labeled lost causes.

Getting torn limb from limb.

Dropping from a cliff.

Getting murdered right in front of him.

His family leaving him, that had been his absolute worst fear. Dream wouldn't have seen it if it wasn't. Dream tightened his grip on George's quaking shoulders just a bit.

Ever since Dream had come into his life, the worst things possible ensued. Dream looked down at the boy, and tears started welling in his eyes.

Dream knew what he had to do.

And for the moment, he just let himself weep with George.

---

George woke up with white light blaring into his sensitive retinas, and chemical disinfectant filling his nose.

As he blinked his eyes for a moment, squinting and turning away from the brunt of the assault, he felt his arm had resisted as he lifted it to shield his eyes.

When he could finally see if he was squinted, he looked at his right arm only to see a tube sticking out of it. He reached his other hand over to touch it and saw there was a clip with a wire coming out of it on his finger.

He moved his torso a bit before he started to sit up, hissing a bit at the soreness of his ribs. There was a bandage all the way around his chest area, keeping it compressed just a bit.

He heard the beeping as he realized where he was, looking at the white walls of the hospital room.

His head spun as he took a deep breath, leaning back until he was laying on the uncomfortable hospital bed again.

He released the breath slowly through his nose, closing his eyes to just think about the situation.

It was bright outside, and there was a piece of folded lined paper on the bedstand next to him, placed on top of a folded piece of green fabric. George scooted up onto his elbows before reaching out with his right arm, grabbing the thin paper.

As he unfolded it, his hands started shaking. His tears dripped onto the black pen ink.

There was only one paragraph written there.

I love you. That's why I'm not gonna let you get hurt again because of me.

Don't look for me.

George choked on his tears as he traced his thumb over the name written at the very bottom of the page; just a simple word, but one that had a whole new meaning to George.

One that made him want to tear himself apart from the inside out, because within the last week not only did he lose his parents, but the only person who seemed to actually want him around.

He placed the note down with trembling hands, reaching over to the folded green mass. His arm shook as he lifted it from the bedstand, pulling it into his lap and feeling the green sweatshirt. It smelled warm; It smelled like home.

He pulled it close to his face, letting his shoulders shake as he took deep, laboring breaths.

Not only had he lost his family, but he had also lost the most important person in the world to him.

George had lost Dream.