The Prince of Nothing || Dreamnotfound

26

When George woke up, there wasn't a warm body next to him.

He sat up, eyes wide as he looked around. Seeing Dream sitting at the cave entrance, George sighed in relief. Dream was fully clothed, and it was quiet; the storm was gone.

"Dream?" George asked quietly, but Dream didn't turn to look at him. Emerald eyes stared outside, emotionless and blank.

George saw his clothes in a pile next to him and picked them up. He pulled on his clothes, watching Dream out of the corner of his eye. The bandages around George's head were still on, but they were damp from the rain and hung on loosely.

George took them off and was careful to not lean his head back against the wall. He watched Dream in silence, confusion and hurt eating at him. Dream, however, stayed staring out the cave, his eyes never looking over at George.

Spirit was dozing in the back of the cave, her soft snores the only sound other than the occasional drip of water from outside.

George inhaled quietly and stood up. He walked over to Dream, who didn't react. George stood over Dream and asked, "Are you okay?"

There was no response. George's eyebrows furrowed and he sat down, next to Dream. He muttered, "It was an accident, Dream. It's okay, I'm okay."

Then there was a reaction, just a feather of movement in Dream's jaw; his teeth clenching. George continued, "You can't blame yourself. Look, Dream, I forgive you, okay? Let's go back home and we can talk about it there. We can get new clothes and..." George trailed off when Dream swallowed.

Eyebrows were lifted slightly as Dream's eyes filled with tears. George asked hesitantly, "Dream?"

Dream opened his mouth, then closed it. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, whispering hoarsely, "You... home?" George nodded, the realization dawning upon him. Dream looked at him then. "You want to go home?"

"With you, Dream," George said softly, his hand reaching out to grasp Dream's hand. He didn't care about how his hand shook slightly and murmured, "Let's go home together."

Dream's eyes lowered to his hand, his mouth twisting in a frown. He turned George's hand over, tracing a finger over George's newly healed cut from when he tried to cut Dream's hair. Dream's throat bobbed as he swallowed.

"I hurt you," Dream muttered, his voice quiet and pained. "Why... Why do you want to go back with me when I hurt you?"

"You didn't mean it," George replied gently, turning his palm back over to entwine their fingers. "I know that you didn't mean it, Dream."

Dream stared at their hands for a long moment. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and he whispered, "George..." Dream glanced at George before looking back outside quickly. "I don't understand... Why?"

"Because you're a good person," George murmured, squeezing Dream's hand softly, "and good people deserve to be forgiven."

Dream didn't reply and George stood up. He tugged Dream's hand, urging Dream up. George said, "I have an idea."

~

The ride was quiet. Hoofbeats on damp soil and George's soft hum filled the cool air. George was sitting on Spirit, Dream behind him. They didn't speak; George figured Dream knew where they were going.

When they walked through a familiar canopy, George smiled. Dream said nothing and they both dismounted Spirit. Spirit walked to the same spot she stood last time, greeting the butterflies with a soft whinny.

There were significantly less winged creatures since last time, but George didn't care. He turned to face Dream, studying him. Dream looked around the area, and George saw the recognition flicker in his eyes, but Dream stayed quiet.