Broken- DreamNotFound/ Gream

Chapter. 16

Night: 7

Life Count: 190

George:

He was waiting for Dream.

But something was wrong, a feeling he couldn't get rid of ever since he saw Dream leave with Deo, a nagging feeling of unease and worry. Dream was probably fine, he was one of the strongest fighters they had, and no one would even try to kill him. But Wilbur tried, and Techno tried, and both times Dream barely escaped with his life, and with the traitor in their group who was killing people, and who had met with Wilbur, the odds of him being attacked were high.

But he couldn't dwell on those thoughts.

He had to keep positive, for his friends, for everyone still stuck in the arena, for every life already lost in the last week. A lot of people died in seven days, out of ten thousand people, one hundred and ninety were still alive.

That wasn't positive thinking.

He paced back and forth, the cold stone walls giving him a small feeling of claustrophobia as he waited for Dream. The cave, when filled with Dream's laugh, Dream's voice, just Dream, had been warm and cozy, soothing and calming, but now it was just a joyless box of grey. He was tired, tired of living in hell, tired of worrying about dying, about his friends dying, tired of waiting around for Dream to come back, if he was ever coming.

He had to come back eventually.

Right?

It was Dream, the practically invincible fighter, the smartest person he knew, the best friend he ever had, so of course he had to come back. But he couldn't stop pacing, his feet drumming on the floor in a repetitive pattern as he waited for the sound of Dream's voice, his laugh echoing from the corridor. His blond hair catching the sun, his mask lifted to show his stupid, attractive smile, little freckles barely visible.

He missed Dream.

He gave a start as footsteps echoed outside the cave, his heart beating faster as happiness sparked inside him. He stopped pacing as a head peeked around the corner of the cavern entrance, his dark hair slightly matted with sweat, a splatter of blood covering some of his sky blue hoodie.

"Skeppy?"

"George, you look slightly disappointed to see me." The mocha eyed man joked, his forced laugh not lining up with his worn and tired face, a hint of regret and anger shown in his clenched jaw and nails digging into his palms.

"Yeah, I was just waiting for Dream." George's eyebrows furrowed as Skeppy's eyes flashed at the mention of the masked man, anger visible in his face. "Skeppy, what's wrong? What's happened?"

"We caught the killer." The dark haired man muttered, his eyes to the ground. "I came in just as they were about to kill Deo. I tried to get h-"

"Wait, about to kill Deo?" George asked, then pure fear set on his face as realization set in. "Wait, Dream was with Deo. Is Dream okay? Did he get hurt? Where is he?"

"Dream was there with Deo." Skeppy crossed his arms and met George's eyes, the brown irises flinty. "I don't know if he's alive or not."

"What do you mean? If he was with Deo, and you guys caught the killer, than how could you not know?" George felt the panic spike again. "What happened to him? Was he badly injured by the murderer? Where is he?"

"George, he was the murderer!" Skeppy burst out, and George took a step back at the volume of his voice. "I heard Deo scream for help, then got there just as Dream was about to slit his throat!"

"Your lying!" George yelled right back at his friend. "Your lying Skeppy!"

"No he's not, George." Bad appeared right behind Skeppy, wrapping a supportive arm around the dark haired man's waist. "I saw it too. Dream was about to kill Deo when Skeppy and the others arrived and stopped him."