Broken- DreamNotFound/ Gream

Chapter. 20

"I knew that he hated you, but never this much." Phil's voice was muffled, like he had his head in his hands. "I didn't know he did this to you."

"Well, Phil." Dream muttered, his speech biting and sarcastic as he pulled his hood tighter around his face. "Now you know, and you can't do anything about it. Why are you even here? He'd probably kill me for talking to you."

"I'm here because I followed you, and I wanted to talk to you." Phil ran a hand through his long hair and put his hat back on. "You, unlike a lot of people at my camp, can hold an interesting conversation."

"Yeah, I'm glad talking about myself getting tortured by your insane son is interesting to you." Dream growled, the feeling of steel slicing his skin, of Wilbur's voice still haunting him.

He missed George.

"Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that." Phil leaned back against a tree, his speech weary, reaching his hands out to catch a drop of water in his palm. "I just... don't know what to do about him. I want to stop him before he hurts my sons, or anyone else even more."

"Before he hurts George..." Dream whispered to himself quietly, phantom arms wrapping around him, the voice of the person he loved echoing in his ears as he sighed.

Phil glanced over at him, realization setting in his eyes as Dream silently cursed himself for being so loud. He felt his face flush, thankful for the deep shadows that covered up his deeply red expression as he mentally facepalmed.

"Is that why you don't go back?" Phil glanced over at the hooded boy as he sat up and curled his knees to his chest. "Because you want to protect him from... from Wil."

"Yeah." Dream rested his chin on his knees, wrapping his arms tighter around himself and closing his eyes. "I guess."

He felt normal, relaxed, sitting on the grass in the middle of a forest, in an arena fight to the death with his enemy. It was nice talking to Phil, like he was just an ordinary person talking about ordinary things, like getting tortured and trying to stop a psychopath. Those were kind of his normality now, the ease he could now grab his sword, ready to defend himself at any moment. How he was only now able to go to sleep with the pain in his shoulder, able to clench his teeth and breathe through the agony.

"This game has changed us all." Phil murmured, and Dream looked over at him, shocked, his eyebrow raised. "I can tell you were thinking about it."

"No, I'm really convinced you can read minds now, Phil." Dream laughed lightly, shivering as a drop of cold rain hit him between the eyes. "Yeah, I'm thinking about it. This idea my group has to escape.... I'm not really sure it's going to work. I'm just trying to think realistically here, not emotionally, no matter how much I want to. Phil, my friends are in this arena, the person I love is stuck here with me! I don't know what to do..."

Dream buried his face in his hands and sighed into his knees, rain soaking his hoodie as he ran a hand through his hair. He mentally added 'bathe' to his list of things he needed to do, right next to 'survive the arena' and 'tell George I love him'. Even thinking about George made happiness spark in him, like the games didn't exist, and no crazy psychos wanted him dead.

"PHIL?"

Dream's head shot up at the sound of Wilbur's voice as it echoed through the trees, instantly springing to his feet, slipping a little on the wet grass. Phil laughed a little, standing up leisurely with his hands in the pockets of his long coat. Dream felt his face turn a bit red, grinning a bit at his hasty reaction as Phil walked over to him.

"You might want to go." The older man tilted his head slightly as Wilbur called out again, his voice closer. "My son would not like it if you were here."