George was left standing on the porch, still trying to process what just happened.
For the first time in a long time, he felt completely lost. He'd lost Dream once more. If what Techno claimed, was true. Then this time he might actually be gone forever.
Strong arms pulled him inside the house once more. The children had gone somewhere else. So, George, the four newcomers and the mom and dad all sat down at the big dining table.
There were so many unanswered questions. George's head was in scrabbles.
A thick silence fell over the room until Karl broke it. "George, your dad's slightly psychotic."
George held back an eye roll. "How did this crowd even come to be?" He asked instead, glaring at Techno who seemed completely unfazed.
"We kinda met along the way." Techno responded. "Your brother told me to go search for you."
George furrowed his brows at the claim. "My brothe–"
"Wilbur, yeah." Techno said. "And before you ask, it's a long story. I met your brother when I began studying. We were friends – well, until I quit." He continued.
The pieces added up, yet George couldn't figure out why Wilbur remain friends with a hitman.
His gaze swiftly travelled to Techno's mom, whose eyes were tinted with sorrow.
Bizarre was the easiest way to describe the situation. "So... what's the plan?" George finally dared to ask.
Surprisingly, Sapnap was the one to answer. "Your dad wants you and Dream back to the lab." The sour undertone didn't go unnoticed.
"Right." George couldn't help but anxiously pick at his cuticles. Facing his dad again wasn't exactly something he was looking forward. Many things had changed since the last time.
Sapnap abruptly stood up and placed his palms on the table. "Ready to leave?"
"What? Now?" George, Karl and Quackity said in unison.
Sapnap rolled his eyes. "No, next fullmoon. Yes, now."
Techno followed Sapnap's example and rose from the table. "Give me four days, if I haven't brought Dream to the lab by then, you can come searching yourselves."
Everyone seemed set on getting back on track, but George felt so lost.
"Wait. Firstly, why are you going after Dream? Second, he's dangerous. He switches and what causes it is unknown."
Techno gave him a curious glance. "I would've thought you'd have figured out his weakness by now." George glared in Techno's direction. "Plus, George, you're forgetting that I'm Schlatt's right hand."
"Oh, trust me I remember." George bit back.
"That means I know what they're planning on doing to him." This time, there's no humor in Techno's confession and suddenly George felt like someone had poured cold water all over him.
"Let's just go, I'm getting a headache." Sapnap said followed by an irritated huff.
That was their cue. All expect Techno followed Sapnap to the car. The ride was silent in the beginning, which only increased George's nervosity to meet his dad.
Sapnap was driving as usual while Karl and Quackity were asleep in the backseat.
So, to break the silent he eventually dared to ask a question that'd been nagging on his mind since he met Techno again.
"How can you suddenly be so trusting of Techno? You've worked with that monster of a man."
Sapnap's gaze remained on the road, but he began chewing on his bottom lip. "I ain't no saint. Neither is Techno nor Dream for that matter. But we all share on similar trait; we were all forced into working for Schlatt."
"Techno... was just a normal college student. One day he got the news that his mother was sick. The disease was uncurable and uncommon. That's where your brother comes into the picture."
Sapnap quickly glanced his way and George rose his brows.
"Techno apparently told Wilbur. Wilbur told your dad about the situation, desperate to find a cure. However, your dad claimed that no cure existed. The only thing he offered were treatments that could slow down the process."
George's eyes were now glued to the road. The more he learned about his dad, the less he liked the man. Basing it on the fact that Techno's mom had appeared as healthy as one possibly could be, must've meant that a cure did, in fact, exist.
Sapnap confirmed his suspicion. "Techno refused to give up, which eventually led him to Schlatt. And a cure did actually exist–" The ravenette paused. George doubted that his dad didn't know about the cure, which only meant that he'd known but refused to tell.
"– But nothing in this life is free. Schlatt offered the cure in exchange for Techno's services."
Right then is where George regretted asking. He was already nervous. He'd lived with his dad for many years but seemed to know nothing about the man.
He closed his eyes and let his head rest against the window. An extreme tiredness washed over him, and sleep soon consumed him.
------------------
Walking the halls of his dad's proclaimed lab felt surreal. His mind was overloaded with impressions. Still, he didn't fail to notice how Karl was clinging on to Sapnap's hand and the ravenette seemed completely unfazed.
Eventually they ended up on the top floor. Sapnap walked right over to a plain, white door and knocked aggressively. If it wasn't obvious already that the ravenette disliked George's dad, that knock sure proved it.
A minute went by until the door flung open. So familiar yet unfamiliar. His father's gaze fell on George. "Ah, you're finally here. I think it's time we have a proper chat, don't you agree?"
It was like his body was frozen in place. All he could do was stare at the man in front of him. The man he'd looked up to. The man who's viewed as a pioneer in the medical field by many people.
The man who'd solemnly built his career on lies.
His feet finally responded to his brain, and he approached his dad and followed him into the office. The door closed before anyone else could enter.
George refused eye contact for the first minutes; his gaze instead lingered on the view. Under different circumstances, he might've appreciated it. But all he saw now was a man who'd intentionally put his office on the top floor as a subtle reminder that he saw himself as more important.
A shaky breath escaped his mouth before he spoke. "Does mom know? About everything?"
His dad walked over to the counter and sat down behind it, forcing George to look at him. "She knows enough."
George subconsciously balled his fists and clenched his jaw at the nonchalant answer. "Do you realize how unethical your research has been?"
"Well aware." Was the response, which only angered George further.
"Despite all the effort, all the horrible thing you put your subjects through. You even came up with a solution. Still, you actively chose to keep it a secret." Anger barely contained at this point.
A smug smile appeared on his dad's face. "Are we deflection our feelings regarding a certain hitman now?"
How his dad knew felt irrelevant at that point. "Your research has caused so much suffering. How can this not affect you? People desperately tries recreating it with horrendous consequences."
His father clasped his hands together. "Your so close, yet so far away from solving the equation."
George narrowed his eyes. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
The man rose and turned his back against George. "I planned it so that you'd be the only survivor. Yes, I know the missing piece to the algorithm. But no, won't share it with the world."
George was too stunned to speak. That rapport had costed his father his license, his name, reputation. However, somehow it still didn't bother him.
"Can't you see? You're the receipt that ignites hope that there's a cure. Tons of funding have been sent my way. The hope it awoke was, and still is, unmatched." His dad was clearly observing his son's reactions, but George was unable to put his feelings into words.
"Why do you think I've had people like Wilbur following your tail for your entire life? In the world of pharmacology, you're a living miracle."
"But in reality, I'm nothing more than a person who's blessed with the right conditions." George responded sourly.
His dad tilted his head. "You've the right to view it however you want to. Doesn't change the fact."
Angry wasn't a strong enough word to describe George's mental state. He knew the famous saying that it's more profitable to treat an illness than to cure it. But indirectly hearing it being practiced by your own dad, was another level of fucked up.
Maybe all the recent time George had spent surrounded by violence had taken its toll. His gaze settled on the monster of a man and the next thing he knew; he felt his fist connecting with his father's face.
Blood splattered over the white countertop as bone broke.
"Son of a bitch– You ungrateful bastard!" His father hissed while tilting his head back to try and contain the blood that's running from his broken nose. George cursed as his knuckles began switching color. Someone desperately needed to teach him how to throw a punch correctly.
Dream suddenly came to mind. "What's the missing piece of information? Why didn't I turn out the same as the others?"
A humorless laugh rang through the room. "So, now you're suddenly interested."
George glared daggers into his dad. How was it even possible to be this unlikable?
However, his dad then rose a hand coated in blood. "This. This is the answer. It's created from my blood. Meaning that it's only compatible with my children."
Where the courage stemmed from was unclear. His dad was both taller and more muscular. But George swiftly closed the distance again and pulled out the laced knife. "Then how do you reverse the effect?" He demanded.
In the beginning, it could've seemed like George had the upper hand. However, as his dad's expression changed from a surprised one to a smug. George knew that he'd lost his advantage.
"You're in love." His dad confirmed. The comment caused George to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek but forced himself to hold the eye contact.
"Talk, old man. How the fuck do you reverse the effect?" George tried to sound confident.
"If you know the missing detail to the rapport, it's rather easy– I've actually an antidote prepared already."
George furrowed his brows. "Why are you telling me this?"
Despite a broken nose and blood covering most of his face, George still saw the smile. "Because I want you back to England. More and more people are getting the news about your existence. It's only a matter of time before someone captures you and figure out the truth."
George's brain was working on overdrive. He desperately needed the cure yet refused to even think about moving back. It was a shame that his dad had figured out his true feelings for Dream. Because that much he knew, those feelings would be used against him.
George sighed. "I want to see the antidote with my own eyes. It will be given to Sapnap and most importantly, I demand your word that none of my friends will be harmed if I agree to your deal."
The smug expression on his father's face only grew. "That wasn't so difficult, now was it?" George only scuffed in response.
His dad fished up a phone from his pocket and sent a quick text. An uncomfortable silence fell after that, until his dad spoke. "You're pathetic. Fell in love with the guy who kidnapped you. What future can you two possible have together?" The question was the definition of condescending.
George refused to bite back on the harsh, but partly true, comment. Instead, he glared in his dad's direction. It wasn't like George hadn't thought about it before. But maybe it was some truth to the claim that love is blind.
Though, there's also another part to the equation. A couple weeks ago, George was just your average college student. But now? He couldn't ever imagine going back to that sort of life after everything he'd gone through. He'd killed someone, multiple even.
And truth be told, he never actually dreamt of studying biology, or any other subject for that matter. His reason for doing so had been because it'd been expected of him. His true desire laid outside the academical work. Where exactly, he didn't know. But he'd never longed to follow in his dad's footsteps.
And now? There's no way he could go back. Something inside him had changed.
His train of thoughts got interrupted when the door swung open. His eyes widened when Wilbur stepped into the room followed by Sapnap, Karl and Quackity.
"Wilbur, perfect. George has agreed to my offer. Although he demands that the cure will be handed to that one." His dad inched his head towards Sapnap. Wilbur opened a backpack that he'd carried with him and handed Sapnap a little, plain, white box.
"It contains a virus that should disarm the bacteria that's caused the mutation." Wilbur informed calmly.
The ravenette took it and must've sensed that it was their cue to leave, because he and the rest swiftly left the room.
"I'm gonna have to patch myself up after your brother's outburst, so I'm letting you inform him of the details."
Eventually only George and Wilbur remained. George's brother refused to meet his eyes until the door closed behind him.
George was about to speak until Wilbur shushed him and began pulling out what looked like climbing gears from his bag.
"Wilbur, what are you–"
"You've not been given the proper information." Wilbur said while sprinting to the window.
"Schlatt has plan for both Dream and Techno. I know you care about Dream, and I've made Techno a promise that I intend on keeping." His brother continued.
A climbing harness and rope were thrown at George. Despite the many questions, George's focus went straight to the equipment. He'd been rock climbing before, so he knew the basics. Although, he couldn't help but worry why his brother had given him climbing gears.
Surely, they couldn't possibly be meant to jump out the window.
Right?
Wrong.
"We must break the window. And be quick, he can come back any second now."
George glanced around and found a heavy chair. "Wilbur!" He shouted.
Wilbur quickly understood what George was referring to. Together they managed to heave the furniture through the glass. A horrible sound echoed through the room as the glass broke.
An alarm.
"Fuck." Wilbur swore quietly.
Both brothers rapidly made an double eight knot. However, confusion on how exactly they were going to get down still remained. But that's when Wilbur held up a somewhat familiar mechanism.
"I'll secure these around on of the pilar and they should make it possible for us to get down." George swallowed his nervosity as he glanced out the window. Wilbur did what he said he was going to do, plus barricading the door with a chair.
"On three, we'll throw ourselves out. Keep your hands off the rope and continuously kick away from the wall. They others should then be waiting in a car below us." Wilbur stated firmly, George nodded to confirm that he understood.
"One."
"Two."
George's body tensed up in suspense for the dreaded jump. Aggressive knockings suddenly erupted from the outside of the room. Wilbur's eyes darted towards the door for a split second.
"Three!"
George closed his eyes as he stepped out in the open air. Right in that moment, everything slowed down. The adrenaline in his veins made it feel like he was flying. A laugh escaped his mouth at the liberating feeling.
Though, the moment his legs collided with the wall, the feeling disappeared. They were approaching the ground fast, but terror struck when George distinguished a figure looking out of the window. The man was fumbling with something for a second.
That something proved itself to be a knife.
Ten meters from the ground and George could practically hear how the rope broke. He gave the ground beneath him a quick glance.
Grass.
Dream's voice rang through his ears. How he'd instructed him to redirect the impact when they'd jumped from the car. This must work the same way. His injured leg would've to pay for this later.
Just as the rope broke, he kicked away from the wall. Thankfully did his uninjured leg take most of the impact and he succeeded at making a front roll to redirect the force from the fall.
People from top of the building began shouting, which meant that the fight wasn't yet over. George crawled out of the harness and started running towards a familiar car.
"George!" Wilbur yelled.
First thought was that his brother was injured but that was luckily not the case. Wilbur sprinted over to his side and place one hand on each of George's shoulders.
"The little detail that dad left out about the cure is that it might as well kill Dream–."
"What!" George yelled.
"–It takes about 24 hours to activate. For him to survive, you need to keep him in his normal mental state. He can't switch during that time."
"Wha– I don't even know his triggers!" George pleaded.
"C'mon, you're a biology major. Humans aren't that complicated. The answer is probably a lot simpler than you might think. But now, go!"
"You're not coming with?"
Wilbur gave him a sad smile. "I have my own obligations to fulfill."
And that was it. The two brothers ran opposite directions.
Karl opened a door to the car and with the last bit of strength, George grabbed his arm and heaved himself into the car.
After his breathing calmed down and the adrenaline slowly vanished, George gave the ominous building one last glance. It was truly his dad's ideology what he'd claimed in his rapport:
A rabies-infected animal is already dead.
No matter the animal.