It's Called: Freefall

|Let Gravity Win|

Hooray, posting during a late night in the middle of June!! It's June 15th, 11:53pm my time :)

Lmk if there are typos :) I don't even read these over before posting I'm gonna be honest.

Enjoy! Vote and comment while you read!! <3

Dream didn't know if the man was dead. If he wasn't he would be when Wilbur came by later to take care of the body with the help of his brother. Dream was pretty sure the guy wouldn't survive being put in a trash bag and deposited somewhere underground.

Actually— Dream wasn't too sure about how Wilbur did what he did. Either way, Dream left a silent bloody man on the floor of his bedroom after bludgeoning him. He figured it was safe to assume he wasn't going to be going to the police.

Dream left the way he entered, getting into the car with Sapnap, and leaving wordlessly.

Once they were far enough away, Sapnap glanced over with a frown. "Would you take that mask off? It's so fucking creepy."

Dream pulled the white plastic mask with a painted smile off over his head, tucking it into the bag he left on the floor of Sapnap's car.

"You're fucking stupid. You know that right?" Sapnap asked without taking his eyes off of the road. Dream couldn't quite see his expression, and wasn't sure if he was joking or not.

"Yeah... Why do you ask, though?" Dream treaded carefully.

"That was so stupid. We're— You are not going to do stuff like this anymore," Sapnap continued seriously.

Dream stared at him in confusion. "You know I can't just stop now, Sapnap. This is my job, and you—"

"No. No, Dream I know about that. I'm well aware of our situation." Sapnap took a deep breath and glanced over at Dream for a moment. "No more going on little missions to kill people who've fucked you over, alright? I don't know what that guy did, but I know that killing people who have actually wronged you is risky. I'm not taking part in this again."

Dream kept his mouth shut, but nodded. Sapnap had already turned away, but Dream knew he got the point.

Dream knew that what he did was stupid. It was risky. If the body of that man was found (which it wouldn't be, if Wilbur and his brother wanted to keep their jobs) then the way Dream took a bat to the guy's face and killed him might be enough to make it look like Dream had motive (which he did) and therefore that the murder was probably premeditated (which it was).

Normally, his jobs looked sort of like muggings gone wrong before they got cleaned up. Not personal.

So Dream decided then and there that this would be the first and last time he ever went out of his way to kill somebody who he wasn't paid to kill.

***

George stayed up late into the night. He waited around in his room, listening to music and doing a bit of work. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was waiting for Dream to get back.

George was aware it was silly, but he didn't want to fall asleep if nobody else was in the house. In fact, it made even less sense considering that Dream himself was pretty dangerous. However, George had felt sort of paranoid about going to sleep when there was nobody else in the house.

In the last two-ish weeks, somebody had broken in and George was... assaulted?

If he was being honest, he wasn't quite sure what to call the event. Assault felt too serious, but one would probably say that that's exactly what happened.

George's attention was snapped away from his thoughts when he heard a rattling from the front door. Realistically, he knew it was Dream. The rational part of his brain was well aware that it was most likely just Dream getting home. That didn't stop the irrational part of his brain from screaming that George was in danger.

His heart was beating heavily against his ribcage. At the sound of the door opening, George scrambled out of his bed and toward his bedroom door so that if the door was opened, he could— theoretically- hit somebody from behind. Of course, he was well aware this was an unreasonable reaction. He also didn't care.

George held his breath until he heard the front door click back shut and some shuffling from the living room. George braced himself, taking another deep breath before very quickly swinging his bedroom door open before he could change his mind.

There was nothing there. George poked his head out of the room, feeling rather stupid, but still a bit shaken for some reason. "Dream?" he called down the hallway.

"Yeah?" the other responded. George let out the breath he'd been holding. Dream walked into George's view. He looked a bit shaken up himself, but George didn't get a chance to ask him anything before Dream hit him with a question of his own. "Are you okay? You look a little..."

Dream trailed off, and George just huffed. He covered his face with his slightly trembling hands. "Crazy?" he finished for the other.

"No, no. That's not what I was going to say," Dream assured him. "You sounded sort of scared. And you're still halfway in your room. You're peaking around the corner like you expected a serial killer to jump out at you." Dream smiled a little bit. George just gave him a look that radiated sarcasm. Before he could actually say anything, Dream shook his head, still smiling. "Don't." He raised one hand and shook his head like he was disappointed. "I hear what I said."

"At least you're aware of your own stupidity," George snapped lightly.

"Hey, I was being nice to you! Just checking in, you know? You did look nervous." Dream looked over from where he stood at the end of the hall where George couldn't see. He was clearly looking into the kitchen. "It's four in the morning. Why are you still awake?"

George's face flushed. He didn't want to admit he was scared of being alone in the house. He didn't want to say that he'd gotten so scared because he was afraid somebody was going to break in. All of that would mean admitting to Dream how he'd reacted. "Just couldn't get to sleep," he half-mumbled instead.

Dream looked at George a bit questioningly, but didn't say anything. George was thankful, but he didn't want Dream to stop talking to him. He didn't really know what drew him to want to just chat with Dream. George did know, however that he wanted to know more about the other. He'd seen glimpses of Dream being himself while yelling at Wilbur and quoting Shakespeare and poking fun at him while sitting in the living room.

"I have to toss this stuff in my room, but if you still can't sleep, we can just hang out?" Dream offered. George hadn't expected that, if he was being honest. Him and Dream had gotten to know each other fairly well, but there weren't many times that they hung out together just for the sake of it.

George smiled. "And ruin my perfect sleep schedule?" he asked incredulously. Dream rolled his eyes and started down the hallway. "Fine, I suppose I can cancel my 4:30 a.m. meeting for this," he said, purposefully thickening his accent to sound "fancy". Dream looked thankful that George had agreed to hang out.

As George stared at Dream for a moment longer while the blonde made his way to his bedroom, he noticed how tired he looked. It was probably a combination of still having alcohol in his system and being up so late. But there was something else. Dream just seemed a bit more emotionally taxed than he had just a few hours ago. And when he came back, changed in far more comfortable clothes, George got the sense that Dream needed this. He needed a something calming or something to distract himself. George didn't know why, but Dream didn't want to go to sleep just as much as he didn't.

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