Waking to the scent of pine and two strong arms embracing him like a giant teddy bear would have been the perfect morning for George had it not been for the deafening snores of the giant spooning him. Even then he couldn't help but smile at the warmth of Dream's body encasing him.
When he opened his eyes, he raised a hand to shield his vision from the sunlight coming through the window. The clock by the TV read 8:02 AM, and considering they had arranged to meet up at 8:15 to set off, George decided it was about time they got out of bed.
He attempted to unlatch Dream's arms around him, but his friend's grip proved to be as strong asleep as it was awake. Dream nuzzled further into the crook of George's neck and released a drawn-out sigh.
"Dream," he groaned and wiggled around to poke his cheek. "We have to get up."
"Five more minutes, mom..." he grumbled and tightened hold.
The warmth of, what George now realized was bare skin, made his face burn. Although it was unlikely that Sapnap and Skeppy would burst in on them in such an intimate position seeing as the door was locked, the wide-open curtains didn't evade the possibility that they would catch a glimpse.
Thus, George used all his strength to pry Dream's arms away, figuring that if they didn't get up now, Sapnap and Skeppy would be teasing him about it for the rest of their time.
"Dream. We really need to take off. Sapnap and Skeppy are going to be waiting for us."
"Mhm," Dream replied yet didn't make an effort to move.
George took a breath, leaned closer to his face, and shouted, "DREAM!"
Dream pulled away to cover his ears. "Okay, okay!" he grumbled, his tone drowsed with sleep. "Jeez, you don't have to scream. My ears are sensitive."
George scoffed and shoved him aside to slip out of the covers. "Clearly not because you didn't answer the first two times I asked."
As he did, Dream sat up and scrubbed the sleep from his eyes. He raised his arms to stretch, and George spun around to avoid the sight of his currently shirtless best friend.
The second he got on his feet, as if on cue, someone slammed the door and startled them. George sprung away from the bed to rush for the entrance just as Sapnap took a peek through the window. Fortunately, it was fast enough that Sapnap wouldn't have noticed what bed he got up from. When he started making out with the glass, leaving disgusting slobber behind, George flipped him off and opened the door.
"Rise and shine!" Sapnap announced and stepped into the room with a much-too cheerful smile.
"Surprised Dream isn't the one waking us up," Skeppy said.
Sapnap cracked up and greeted George with that ugly smirk of his. Then he wiggled his eyebrows and said, "The lovebirds were probably up too late having a little too much fun. Y'all must be really sore and tired."
George struggled to keep his face a normal shade as he reached to smack him, but Sapnap pulled out a fire fist and warned him to stay back before he could.
Dream came up behind George (surprisingly already dressed) and saved him from any further embarrassment by deflecting the topic.
"Bold of you to tease the one who's paying for all your meals."
Sapnap huffed and extinguished the fire enveloping his fist. "Whatever. Let's just hurry up, I'm starving," he exclaimed while they began to gather their stuff.
They didn't talk about it.
Not while sharing the back seat while Sapnap took the wheel and Skeppy took shotgun. Not while George stared at the same paragraph of his book for five minutes because Dream's presence was too distracting beside him. Not when they stopped for gas and were left alone in the truck yet again. And certainly not when they stopped at a small diner a few hours from the Tennessee border for breakfast.
It was an old-fashioned 20th-century diner that, paired with an antique jukebox, was dazzled with the plentiful portraits of legendary 20th and 21st-century bands and artists. It was surprisingly busy with lively waitresses and waiters serving families and couples scattered across the polished wooden tables and striped booths with large windows facing the parking lot. The hostess greeted them with too bright of a beam and cheerfully asked them how many people they would be serving. Then she led them to a booth off the back by the jukebox that was playing an upbeat classic.
George and Dream wordlessly sat beside each other, close enough that their arms brushed against each other every time one of them shifted. Sapnap quirked a suggestive eyebrow at the action that George preferred to ignore.
A waitress took their orders soon after, and Sapnap took full advantage of Dream's wallet to buy himself a hefty order of pancakes with a platter of eggs, sausage, and toast. Skeppy seemed a bit more distracted than usual staring out the window and tapping his fingers on the table. Dream had to call his name twice before he realized the waitress was waiting on him.
After she took his and Dream's orders, the waitress excused herself and left the boys in silence to listen to the jukebox music, the racking dishes from the kitchen, and the energetic voices from the tables surrounding them.
A stressed-out couple sitting by the front door with young triplets blabbering and toying with their food. An old woman using her baby voice on a toddler as she cut his pancakes into little pieces. A muscular woman with a tattoo sleeve giggling as she wrapped her arm around a woman's shoulder and nuzzled her cheek. A lonesome teenage girl two booths behind them who was nervously scanning the crowd with her fists tightly wound into rocks.
The air around her stung with an aura of anxiety that was slowly encompassing the room. George looked away before her aura could hijack his emotions, yet even with the distance, an inevitable swirling in his gut stole his appetite. He looked down at his hands and started playing with his fingers while attempting to put his mind elsewhere.
Dream leaned into him, and when their hands grazed, the tenderness in his aura caressed him like a milder version of his morning bear hug. He closed his eyes and pretended they were still in bed, if only for one second.
When he opened them and met Dream's gaze, he smiled. Across the table, Sapnap narrowed his eyes and alternated glances between them with suspicion.
He opened his mouth to undoubtedly say something that would have George launching his drink at him but before he could, Dream slid his tablet with a map of their location in front of them.
"We're stopping by the shopping mall at the border and then heading to another hotel for the night before staying in Nashville for the day to unwind a little."
"Unwind?" Skeppy snapped, taking a sudden, not-so-pleased interest in the conversation. George winced at the hostility behind his tone, and he was suddenly aware of the uneasy aura caving in on them. "You want us to unwind? While Bad is out there in danger?"
Taken aback by his voice, Dream's look hardened and he replied, "I didn't mean it that way. We've been on the run for a few days now. We'll be needing a break so we don't lose our minds soon."
Skeppy glimpsed at George before looking back at Dream with a tense expression. The rush of emotions was too much, and George turned away to steer his focus onto something else. "You mean we need a break or George does?"
Bewildered, Dream said, "Look, Skeppy, I know you're worried for Bad. We all are, but—"
"And you think taking a break is going to help him?"
"Are you okay? I don't understand where this is coming from. We've all been trying our best here."
Maybe your best isn't enough, the thought invaded George's mind along with the growing wave of anxiety. Something was wrong, and it wasn't just with Skeppy.
"Can we please stop fighting and eat breakfast in silence?" Sapnap said, his voice wavering and missing its twinkle of confidence.
They fell into silence at Sapnap's intervention. George wasn't sure how the conversation had escalated so quickly, but the tension weighing down the table was impossible to ignore. George couldn't have said anything even if he tried.
Skeppy huffed and turned away to glare at the family walking outside in the parking lot. Dream looked onto the table with an expression shrouded in uncertainty and guilt. Sapnap shook his head in disapproval and looked like he was trying hard to hold something back. There was something off about the ambient surrounding them.
As he turned back to people-watch, George increasingly noticed the shifting mood across the room. The couple with the triplets were scolding their crying kids. The two women by the door had separated and looked like they were arguing. The couple with greying hair was doing everything to avoid looking at each other.
When he looked back at the girl, he could hardly cope with the level of agitation she was radiating. Her emotions rushed the room like blowing winds from a tropical storm creeping over them. Her sleeves were covering her face and she was gripping the hair at the top of her head.
George gripped his pendant and slowed his breathing as a sense of impending trouble swamped him and made every muscle in his body tense.
How was she doing this?
The bell at the entrance dinged. Two police officers strolled inside. One of them began to talk to the hostess while the other surveyed the scene.
George's grip on his necklace tightened. He turned away. From the corner of his eye, he watched as they took a seat at the bar and started conversing.
It's fine. There's just here to eat. Keep calm and you'll be fine, he told himself. But the static in his head was growing louder.
A strange sensation hijacked the air—it was one he did not recognize but that he knew he had felt before. It was like an unknown presence had dipped his head in the water. The closest he could compare it to was the time he had been caught in one of his classmate's feedback loops during a group evaluation—his emotions had fallen so strong on George that he had projected them back, feeding into an intensifying and endless loop. What he felt now was powerful, and it ached for disorder.
It was undoubtedly a Psychic.
It happened too quickly.
A passing waitress tripped on an invisible force and her tray went flying. A cacophony of plates and cups shattering broke the lasting trace of the happy aura in the air. The room fell silent.
He kept his breathing steady, but his heart was beating faster. As he met Dream's eyes, George shook his head with confusion in response to his questioning gaze, and he searched the room in a frenzy for the source of power.
Then it hit him. A truckload of fear, remorse, and chaos struck him so hard that he had to clutch the table.
"What's wrong?" Dream asked.
George's eyes landed on the girl—the one who was now glancing around in a panic as people started getting up to help the waitress clean up the mess.
"She's an empath," was all he managed while he tried to counter the intensity of her emotions. Getting stuck in a feedback loop with so many people around would only result in disaster.
Dream cursed under his breath. They flinched when the plates around the room began to shatter. Everyone was looking around wondering what the hell was going on.
The girl's emotions were growing more frantic. More glasses shattered. The items on her table began to levitate.
The man next to her jerked from his chair and raised a trembling finger at her. "It's her!"
The girl turned to the crowd in shock. Her mouth opened and closed like she was trying to come up with an explanation. An incomprehensible blabber escaped her.
"Call the cops," someone shouted. The two officers at the entrance turned toward the commotion.
Dream tried to jump to his feet to help, but George had enough sense to pull him back before he could run out of the booth. He directed George a glare and said, "She's scared."
But George only gripped his arm tighter, and he stared up at Dream with unusual darkness to his gaze. Every part of him was shouting for them not to get involved. Dream pried his hand off his arm and tried to get up again, but George used his telekinesis to hold him back.
"Let. Me. Go," Dread said through his teeth, his voice now threatening and grim—a tone that wasn't unfamiliar to George but that Dream had never used on him.
Then Skeppy explained exactly what was going through George's mind. "If we help, they'll be onto us too."
Dream's glare bore an inferno. He looked toward Sapnap for backup, but he seemed conflicted. Hesitantly, Sapnap forced himself to speak. "You're the one who said we can't cause a scene. We're already on the news, Dream."
The girl leaped from her seat and scrambled toward the exit when the officers rushed toward her.
"Freeze," one called out.
The first officer was hit by a flying chair that pinned him against a table and made him release a pained groan. The second managed to tackle the girl and hold her wrists behind her back while he unhooked his handcuffs from his belt. More plates and glasses crashed around them. People rushed out of the restaurant. Others took cover to block the flying pieces of glass. The officer holding the girl down shielded his face when a plate crashed against his back.
Dream struggled against his hold. George's head felt like it was about to implode from the energy he was expending. But he held tighter.
"We can't, Dream." His voice was strained and barely audible. It made Dream stop struggling for a second, enough that George managed to break through their mind block to calm him down.
The first officer joined his partner in holding the girl down. He opened a pouch on his belt and retrieved an item that made his blood run cold. The ruckus came to a halt when the man injected her with the tranquilizer. Every item flying came crashing down. The empathetic force that had been straining on his mind vanished into nothingness and left the drowsy and chilling trace of an aura now gone.
His heart crawled up his esophagus when he saw the officers drag the unconscious girl away. A fire burned his throat as the crowd broke into claps and cheers. It left an ugly mark in his mind that invited his shadow pursuer to settle around his shoulders and murmur unpleasant thoughts that left him guilt-ridden and ashamed.
It didn't help that the pure unbridled rage filtering out of Dream erupted in his stomach as soon as the door shut, and it made him recoil. He rushed to break the empathic link between them and restore their mind block, though Dream's anger was so overwhelming it still left his heart racing and his body unpleasantly hot.
They rushed to pay without finishing their meal. George avoided looking at the police officers standing by their cars waiting for backup outside. His fingertips sizzled with a residue of energy and an unfamiliar morbid craving that chilled his spine. He tried to dismiss the image of the officer's snapped necks and sprawled-out bodies on the concrete that his mind conjured.
The car ride was eerily silent.
The only sound was of the quiet radio playing a popular pop song and the tired rash of the wheels on the road. Skeppy was focused on driving. Sapnap was on shotgun with his gaze fixed on the buildings as they passed. Dream was glaring at the seat in front of him, his knuckles so tight they were white. His emotions were bitter and clear, and he didn't bother to hide them from George.
It was hard to breathe with the suffocating resentment taking to the air. George lowered his window to let the fresh air in, but it didn't do much to calm him down.
After a few hours of trying to read his book, they stopped at a small shopping district to buy supplies. The afternoon sky was ashen and overcast, making it apparent that another storm was approaching.
Everything seemed to be going according to plan, even if Dream hadn't spoken a word since the diner, Sapnap had barely offered a hum in response to Skeppy's questions, and Skeppy was growing more frustrated by the minute.
The thrift store was dull and silent. It smelled like the inside of a damp attic and the dust particles in the air made him turn up his nose when they walked inside. The place was disordered and cluttered with shirts sprawled under the racks and food wrappers littered over the shelves.
Save for the shopkeeper sitting at the cashier with his legs propped on the counter watching TV and slurping noodles from an instant ramen cup, there was only one other lady swiping the racks at the women's section while her daughter sat near playing pretend with her stuffed animals. The little girl smiled wide and showed off her missing front tooth when George walked by. He returned the gesture with a much less cheerful expression and followed his friends to the men's section.
If the guilt of what had gone down at the diner wasn't already weighing him down enough, Dream's anger was still heavy and obvious. It was starting to get on George's nerves—the way his best friend was avoiding sparing him so much as a glance.
He watched Dream for the majority of the time as he shopped and waited to see if he would acknowledge him, but he never did. George desperately wanted to say something, whether it be screaming at him for refusing to understand why he had done what he did or profusely apologizing for preventing him from helping.
George just wanted to talk. But the words refused to come out. He wanted Dream to say something first, to apologize first, to tell George he understood him and validate his reasons for refusing to help the poor girl. But he knew it wouldn't happen. George was too stubborn and Dream was too angry to apologize.
It was terribly ironic, really. Just a few hours ago, they had been at what appeared to be the highest point of their friendship, embraced in bed on a beautiful morning. Now, the unspoken stress weighed so heavy on him that he wanted nothing but to distance himself.
Eventually, Skeppy and Sapnap disappeared somewhere into the other side of the store, leaving him alone with Dream. George had a sneaking suspicion it was intentional. The silence grew too much for him, and he just wanted Dream to say something, anything. Perhaps that's why he chose to say what he said.
"It had to happen."
Dream tensed.
The sound of the hangers striking each other as he scrolled through the rack halted. A messed-up part of George couldn't help but take a bit of enjoyment out of the way he triggered Dream with a single phrase. The other side of him wondered if this vile aspect of George was coming to light due to the stress of their trip or if it had always been buried under layers of insecurity.
Dream faced him with an intimidating glare that could rival Medusa herself.
"What did, George?" He spat his name like it was venom in his mouth. It made George wince, but instead of feeling guilty, Dream's anger invigorated a sadistic side of him like it was fueling a fire. "Letting an innocent girl be tranqued and not doing anything to save her?"
"We had no choice."
"That's bullshit and you know it."
The shout caught the attention of the mother and daughter. Taking the girl into her arms, the woman hurried toward the exit. George felt a little guilty, but it was overridden by a surge of animosity. His eyes found Dream's again—a blazing stare that bore through him like a laser.
"You said we'd do everything to save Bad."
"This doesn't have anything to do with Bad," Dream growled, stomping closer, so close George could feel his ragged breathing on his face. "You let a poor girl be taken to who knows where—a facility for all you know—what you've been afraid of since you got to AGE."
Anger wasn't the only emotion present in his gaze. There was hurt. Betrayal. Disappointment. The emotions pierced his chest and made it hard to breathe, only riling him up further. "We did nothing when we could've done something."
"Of course I know that," George yelled back, his arms doing circles over his head and ending up scratching through his hair as he paced back and forth. His voice was on the verge of angry tears.
"I've lived with that fear since I discovered I was a fucking Psychic, but right now," he emphasized his words by pointing his finger at the ground. Their gazes were locked on each other. "Right now, our priority is not getting caught and being arrested because if we do, who knows what's going to happen to Bad?"
The tears threatened to spill. Fury outpoured from his chest and encompassed both. Something inside his mind prodded, asking to come out. George almost considered releasing it. His voice cracked. "What's going to happen to us, Dream?"
"Yeah?" Dream remarked in spite, his movements jagged and tense, and he closed the gap between them again. His next words were a murmur spat with pure rage and without regret.
"Because of you, that girl's never going to have a chance to even live a normal life."
George couldn't speak. His words were caught on his throat, and he could hardly breathe from the shame and anger merging together hot and ready to blow through him.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all—blaming him when Dream knew. He knew that as soon as they intervened, they would be taken in along with the girl and both her and George would end up fucked. Him more than her. George had no chance to escape from a situation like that. Especially not after the bullshit they had pulled back in Florida.
"Is that really what you mean, Dream?" he said, words barely audible and full of nothing but malice. Inside, the presence was beating his head aching to be let loose and take control of the situation.
"Or are you afraid to admit that if you wanted to, you could've stepped in. You know you're strong enough to break through my telekinesis." He forced a finger against Dream's chest, and their eyes fixated on each other with nothing but pure fury.
"But you acted like a coward too."
In less than a second, Dream had him pinned against one of the clothing racks, his fists bunched around the fabric of his shirt and raising him to his tip-toes. Every one of his limbs was urging him to fight back. But George kept a straight expression, the same darkness from before clouding his eyes. In his head, he could hear the shadow whispering its forlorn curses—telling him he could take Dream, demanding he let it out.
He almost did. Until Sapnap rushed toward them to push them away from each other and stood in between with his arms extended, infuriated. The silence was heavy on his ears. All he wanted to do was scream and tear it apart.
"The hell is going on with you guys." It wasn't a question. Sapnap exhaled. He pressed a finger to the bridge of his nose and glared at both. "Get back to the car. We're not doing this here."
Sapnap waited until Dream started walking to follow, eyeing George to make sure he came along too.
Skeppy quietly joined them a few minutes later with a shopping bag, and Sapnap took the front seat, leaving Dream and George in the back to avoid each other. It was suffocating.
They drove in absolute silence, the radio having lost the station it was playing hours into the empty, middle-of-nowhere road. George's fingers gripped his book as he struggled to even get past the first sentence. The top of his page ripped when he turned it. His jaw tightened, his own rage and that of Dream's settling in his gut. However, as time passed, his anger dissipated, and it was replaced by growing remorse that he refused to think about.
It rained the rest of the way.
The second motel they stopped at for the week looked even more decrepit than the first—a tiny c-shaped bundle of barely a dozen rooms. The worker behind the counter looked about done with his job, and when Skeppy asked for two rooms, he responded to him with a blank stare and a quiet grumble.
"Only got one room."
"But there weren't that many cars in the parking lot," Sapnap said.
The guy with long black bangs and huge purple bags under his eyes glared, just as crude and unamused as before. "One room."
George sent Dream a side-glance when he didn't even bother intervening and instead leaned against the wall behind them to grimly stare at the guy with his arms crossed. Skeppy looked about done with everything, so he simply threw him the money, snatched the key he had placed on the desk, and stormed toward the designated number.
Like the last motel, there were two beds and a sofa. The television looked to be from a hundred years ago, beat down with age and accompanied by a remote half-wrapped in duct tape to keep it from falling apart. The white walls were starting to yellow, and when George turned on the only lamp in the room, he had to twist the bulb a few times to get it to stop flickering.
"I'll take one of the beds with Skeppy," Sapnap muttered as they looked in between each other.
George looked toward Dream who didn't even think before saying, "I'll sleep on the couch."
It stung. Especially after the night they had spent together. George couldn't help the twisted fear settling in his stomach when he remembered the nightmares that were no doubt getting ready to strike amid the darkness.
Dream took the first shower without question and George found himself breathing a little easier. Unfortunately, both Skeppy and Sapnap seemed to be in a similar emotional haze. Skeppy was off in his own world as he searched through the late-night channels. His aura was stagnant, but he could sense a distant shame he was clearly holding back both from himself and George.
Sapnap's aura was unusually dull and kept to himself. At one point, George tried to walk over to apologize, but Sapnap turned away before he could get any closer, so George decided to give him space instead. He hated that Sapnap had been caught in the crossfire of his argument with Dream, especially because George knew his loyalty to the both of them was unyielding. He had never wanted to put Sapnap in a place where he had to choose between them, and despite their argument, he doubted Dream did either.
When it was his turn to take the last shower, he hurried in and at last gained a moment completely to himself with his own emotions. The cold, dingy water drops hitting his skin gave him enough external feeling to drown out the static in his head. The lights were off when he got out and his friends were already tucked in bed. He headed for his own bed quietly, only glimpsing at Dream who was facing the couch cushions.
He buried himself in the sheets and closed his eyes, and it wasn't long before the now familiar and unpleasant coldness cloaked his neck and shoulders, sending goosebumps all throughout his body.
In the back of his head, he could hear the same hushed, shadowy whispers as he continuously drifted into a stage between sleep from how exhausted his body felt and awakened as every time the murmurs grew louder, it stirred him back to consciousness.
In the middle of the night, he heard someone shuffle and get out of bed, and when he opened his eyes, he noticed the spot on the bed next to Skeppy was empty and the door was closing quietly. He pushed the sheets aside and got up to investigate.
Outside, Sapnap was lying on the back of their truck facing the sky. The post-storm air was humid and dingy, and it made the world feel like it was at a standstill.
George approached and shivered at the chilly night. He buried his hands into the pocket of his red hoodie, and he stood by the truck for a while, wondering if Sapnap was ignoring him or if he simply hadn't noticed his presence. Sapnap was stuck in a daze—his eyes fixated on the sky and his mouth settled into a slight frown. Both his hands were comfortably placed above his stomach, and he remained unmoving.
George would've thought he was asleep had it not been for his open eyes and his awakened emotions staining the air—a spurt of concern twisted with quiet alarm. Sapnap kept still as George settled himself next to him, shifting his gaze toward the galaxy above: millions of stars, all shapes and sizes scattered into an explosion of beauty.
"The sky looks nice," he said.
Sapnap nodded.
George swallowed, putting his hands over his chest and mindlessly fidgeting with his pendant. He tried not to let Sapnap's emotions swarm him.
"Are you okay?" he asked a few minutes into their quiet stargazing.
"I don't know. You tell me," he replied.
George shifted uncomfortably. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips as he prepared for the unavoidable subject.
"You're angry."
"Damn right I am," Sapnap said almost instantly. "I don't understand why you guys are acting this way—making this all about y'all."
Without having much of an explanation to offer, George replied, "We're not trying to—"
Sapnap interrupted him with a tired groan, rubbing his eyes frustratedly and sitting up. Finding it awkward to continue lying, George followed his lead and let his hands fall on his lap.
"I know you're not, but it doesn't change the fact that you are. Bad's in trouble and you're here fighting and I—" His brow scrunched up in aggravation and pent-up rage as he searched for his words. Exhaling and glancing down at his lap, his expression relaxed into a disappointed look. "It's not going to help us. All this fighting. Between Dream and Skeppy. Between you and Dream. Everything."
There was something deeper behind his emotions. George pricked at it, attempting to uncover and analyze it. However, to no avail and exhausted by the strain of his powers in a single day, he asked, "Are you sure it's just that?"
Sapnap pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them. His eyes rose to the stars again. A gentle light kindled in his dark pupils as they reflected the light above. Hesitantly, he admitted, "I was afraid of going on this trip."
When he paused, George almost poked fun at him on instinct, but he bit his tongue to keep himself from opening his mouth at an inappropriate time.
"But then I thought, hey, maybe this will bring us closer together, y'know? Save Bad, go on a road trip, have a little fun on the way there to keep our mind off things. And now—"
The words felt like needles prickling at his throat. George knew exactly what he meant. Sapnap's tongue got stuck at the roof of his mouth, his sentence fizzling away, so George finished for him. "It's turning out to be a mess."
The forlorn whistling wind took to the night and so did the chorus of cricket chirps and nocturnal insects. George hugged his arms, rubbing his sides to seek warmth, but nothing appeared to help the frigid sensation encompassing him from the inside. He found himself thinking about Dream's tight embrace, but he pushed the thought away.
"I'm scared," Sapnap said, words fragile and hushed, so much it felt like they would shatter with one breath. "That it's going to tear us apart."
It reminded him of that night all those years ago when he and Sapnap had first connected. Before then, they had treated each other like fighting goats. They still did, but it was no longer out of spite. Sapnap and Dream had fallen into a good rhythm in their friendship fairly easily, partly because Dream was so kind and charming with everyone he met and partly because they just clicked.
On the other hand, Sapnap and George had struggled a fair bit, their interactions often ending in jealous spouts, especially when it came to spending time with Dream. Sapnap had gotten attached to Dream very quickly, and seeing as Dream was George's only friend back then, it resulted in a messed-up game of tug of war that left the trio at awkward ends.
And then, when George was eleven, Dream had decided on his own terms to take some time to himself. He told them to fix their friendship because he wasn't going to do it for them. So they had been forced to talk—for real that time. Though even after they had reached an agreement to at least respect each other because they both cared so much for Dream, they always kept each other at arm's length and there was barely any depth to their interactions.
It wasn't until that night that everything changed. That they really started calling each other friends.
George shuffled closer to Sapnap, inhaling lightly before awkwardly resting his head on his shoulder. Sapnap didn't move and instead relaxed his body into the unexpected contact. George wasn't a touchy person, but he knew Sapnap was more similar to Dream in that aspect, often seeking hugs and kisses to the cheek (that he always paired with a "no homo" after).
Sapnap's breath ruffled George's hair when he let out a heavy sigh. "You guys are my family."
"Nothing's going to tear us apart," George whispered.
"You don't know that."
George frowned, looking up and noticing the small tear trailing its way down his cheek. Sapnap wiped it off, fluttering his eyes shut a few times and then forcing a smile.
"It tore my family apart."
The night wind picking up enveloped George's neck, and the pressure from Sapnap's hurt settled inside his chest. It was shocking, to say the least, hearing Sapnap even mention his family. Although George knew Dream's family (not personally but he had at least seen them on the island), he had never once seen Sapnap's, not even a clear picture. He wasn't even aware of any siblings, if there were any.
Similar to Dream, Sapnap had always been an expressive, heart-on-the-sleeve sort of guy. Yet, despite it, he rarely spoke about his family life, even after almost a decade of knowing him. The only vague hints he had gotten about his negative relationship with his parents were the rare shouting his headphones caught every so often when they played Minebuild during the breaks and Sapnap went off the keyboard to do something.
"We used to be so close." He glanced down at his hands and gripped an invisible object, distant eyes glazed into a painful memory. George had to physically pull away, ground himself in his own emotions, and exhale deeply to release Sapnap's heavy emotions.
He opened his palm to reveal a flame the size of a matchstick. It reflected in his eyes like two tiny orbs of heat. They flickered off when the muggy wind picked up and extinguished the flame. "Then the day my powers showed up, I almost accidentally burned the house down and..."
He snickered, but it was full of anguish and without a trace of amusement, the kind of desperate laugh that comes out after you realize you're too tired to hide it—revealing years-worth of repressed pain constantly aching at your throat, settling in the back of your head and pricking you every time things start to go wrong.
It's the kind you swallow and hold back and then tell yourself everything is fine. George knew his laugh. He knew it too well.
And it was only then that he realized the true extent of Sapnap's act—what he had been hiding in plain sight and George had failed to notice, even though now, sitting in front of him, it was unmistakable. It made him feel like he had failed his best friend.
"They fought every day on whether they should put me in repression therapy or send me away. Every fucking day." More tears rolled down his cheeks. His eyebrows scrunched with frustration and regret, and he appeared lost staring light years away. "I was always the one to tell my sisters everything was fine when they asked, and when my parents realized it was tearing the family apart, they made their decision."
"They sent you to AGE..." George finished for him when he couldn't. He turned away when Sapnap's aura grew too painful for him not to drown in. It wasn't until this moment that he understood. That he remembered.
He placed a hand at his shoulder. "It's not going to tear us apart, Sapnap," George said, an unfamiliar assurance seeped in his tone.
"You can't know that."
"I don't, but our bond is too strong to be broken. Not after everything we've gone through. What we will go through."
"If you and Dream keep doing this—" Sapnap pursed his chapped lips together. "It's going to happen."
Their gazes locked—George's rare confident gaze and Sapnap's unusually vulnerable one, his courage having been drowned out of him. It was the one trait George had always admired and the one that made him Sapnap. There was only one sentence running through his mind, one George hadn't meant to pry into and catch.
You're going to leave me behind.
George's breath hitched. "We won't. I promise. I'll talk to him."
Sapnap pondered it and after a moment, he said, "Aren't you worried about what's going to happen?"
"Yeah." George's hand reached for his pendant and held it tight as he looked toward the sky. Images of his nightmares came in flashes. "I'm scared I'll hurt you guys."
Sapnap laughed, this one lighter and somewhat amused, and slapped his arm to which George made it a point to whine exaggeratedly. "You might be an arsehole—" he mocked his accent, causing George to roll his eyes "—sometimes, but you'd never hurt us."
"How can you be so sure?"
Sapnap shrugged, unmoved by his uncertainty. "Apart from being scrawny and short?"
George elbowed him, sporting the smallest of smiles. "Shut up. You're only like an inch taller than me."
Sapnap snorted. "You love us too much." His crooked smile held that mischief that often annoyed George but also made him smile. " Especially Dream."
George scoffed and turned to face the middle-of-nowhere horizon. A comfortable silence fell upon them.
"You ready to hit the hay?" Sapnap asked.
George hesitated, and he didn't even have time to make up an excuse before Sapnap noticed the tension arise in his body.
"You okay?"
"I'm—" George thought about making up an excuse, but after the conversation that had just taken place, something inside him drove him not to. "I've been having nightmares."
"And..." Sapnap narrowed his eyes and scanned him. "You haven't been sleeping well because of it?"
"Not really, it's just—" George exhaled and faced the ground. "It's weird. I can't really sleep by myself."
Sapnap paused before his mouth curved into a teasing smile and he wrapped his arm around George's shoulders to pull him close. "If you wanted me to cuddle with you, you could've just asked, Georgie."
"You idiot, I don't want to cuddle," George grumbled, though he couldn't contain his escaped laugh.
"Georgie wants to cuddle with me! Georgie wants to cuddle with me!" Sapnap shouted, alerting anyone within a mile radius of their presence and making George's face turn into a tomato.
"Get off me." George managed to push him off with a whine.
Sapnap hopped off the truck and nodded his head toward their room. "Come on. Let's go to bed. Don't worry, we can keep the socks on if you want," he said and paired it with a wink.
Sapnap laughed as George jumped off and chased after him. The moonlight shone a little brighter through the tinted windows when they got back inside, and when George and Sapnap finally tucked themselves in the bed by the window, he managed to suppress the nightmares for at least one more night.
Sleep had never been an issue for George.
As a toddler, his parents had been appalled by his ability to tuck himself into bed and pass out in an instant. George had always been a dreamer. Not only did he daydream awake, drowning himself in fantasy worlds and magical settings, but his dreams at night were vivid and clear—even consisting of memories from his past sometimes, memories of those he was closest to. He could recall every detail of his dreams even after he awoke. It also made his nightmares all the more terrifying, waking in a cold sweat and breathing heavily, the remnants of his monstrous pursuers remaining even as he reached for reality.
But tonight, his nightmares weren't the ones keeping him awake, so late it seemed the sun was on the verge of peeking over the horizon.
It had been two weeks since Dream had told George and Sapnap off. Two weeks since they had talked. He had known Sapnap for almost a year, yet it hadn't been until now that they had really openly spoken about their so-called friendship.
And tonight, he had spent all night pondering it. There was no particular reason for it. Their dynamic with Dream had returned to normal, and they were no longer ignoring each other's existence or arguing around him (dismissing their few non-serious squabbles about stupid things like when Sapnap grabbed a pancake off George's plate one day during breakfast, launched it at the pretty girl who sat in front of him during his first period, and blamed it on George's powers).
It was almost foreign—this troubled mindset that had been keeping him up. And in favor of calming his mind (or maybe it was something deeper inside driving him to do it), he decided to go outside for some fresh air.
Perhaps it was how he ended up in the garden at five in the morning in his pajamas and slippers. He found him there. He was sitting on the hidden bench facing the forest that also happened to be a popular spot for couples to sneak away to and hang out (or whatever it is they did; George didn't want to think about it).
He was sobbing quietly as he stared at his open palms on his lap, a tiny flame illuminating the lines of tears on his cheeks and his glass eyes. He looked so different here without his signature grin and his dumb banter, without that spark of vitality and warmth that he admittedly brought to their trio. It felt like George was meeting him again for the first time, this time only bumping into him outside as opposed to literally crashing with him.
"Sapnap?"
Sapnap jerked up, the flame on his palms dying and shrouding his silhouette in darkness. "What are you doing here?"
George approached with caution. He sat down on the other side of the bench, leaving a meter of distance in between them. "Taking a walk."
"In the middle of the night?"
"What are you doing here?"
Sapnap didn't answer. Instead, he turned away and hugged himself like he was cold, an odd gesture seeing as fire types tended to be the warmest of the Elementals.
"I thought you were supposed to leave for winter break today," George muttered.
"My parents didn't pick me up this year."
"Why not?"
Sensing he didn't want to elaborate further, George chose to stare toward the woods and attempted to find the right words. Unfortunately, he had never been good at comforting people. That had always been Dream's job.
"I don't go home during winter breaks either," he settled for saying.
"You don't?"
George shook his head and offered him a light smile. "They say it's too dangerous for me to be outside of the island."
"That must suck."
"It does." George sighed and his fingers toyed with his pendant. "Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever get out of here."
Sapnap lowered his gaze, his shoulders rising and falling as he released a couple of quiet sniffles.
"But then I remember it's not all bad. I wouldn't have met Dream or you if I hadn't come here."
It seemed to catch Sapnap off-guard, seeing as he stopped sniffling and he looked his way. The night was too dark for George to properly discern his expression. "Me?"
George nodded slowly. "I know we fight a lot, but you and Dream have always been the nicest to me here. You're my friends."
When Sapnap took too long to answer, George feared he had taken his comment as dishonest. That was until two arms suddenly wrapped around him. Sapnap buried his head into his shoulder and sniffled into it. Surprised, George's body tensed up and he took a second to react, but his arms cautiously settled around his torso.
"My friends back in Texas..." Sapnap finally admitted into his shoulder, turning his head so George could only see his hair. "They left after they found out what I was, even though we always told each other we'd be friends for life."
George smiled into his shoulder, pulling him closer and squeezing his eyes shut, knowing all too well what he meant. "We'll never do that."
"Really?"
"Yeah." George chuckled. "Really."