Normalcy was relative.
That was probably why cars whizzing just a hair away from Dream didn't faze him anymore, and neither did the ungodly amount of kitchen fires he'd caused. He'd survived much worse, after all. No matter how dire a situation seemed, there was always something that protected him from certain death.
The vending machine fell over.
A truck sped through a stop sign.
A cyclist just managed to swerve before hitting him.
All was normal.
The shadow falling from the sky on the ruined path to his apartment was not.
Dream squinted at the shadow. Was... Was that hail? It never snowed in Florida, let alone hailed. It couldn't be.
Actually, it seemed more like a person, now that it was closer to him. But there was no way he'd be unlucky enough to witness this, right?
Then the figure—who was decidedly human after all—crashed into the ground in front of Dream, the dirt muffling what he was sure were various colorful words.
Well, at least now Dream knew how fate felt about him.
A person just fell from the sky... Maybe he should investigate that.
Dream stepped closer and craned his head down.
Now that he had time to look, the figure was a man with giant, white wings sprouting out of his back. The loose, white outfit he wore was tattered and littered with stains. A radiant, almost godly aura surrounded him. But where were his shoes? Were they somewhere in the forest?
His observations stopped when the man groaned and pushed himself up from the ground, rubbing his head. The outline of his body was imprinted into the dirt.
Then the man locked eyes with him.
No, Dream. Bad, bad idea. Don't do it. Just shut up and walk away.
"Hey," Dream said, "did you just fall from heaven?"
Silence.
A few giggles escaped from Dream's mouth.
God damn it.
Dream erupted into hysterical laughter, falling to his knees and holding his stomach. When he thought the laughter was over, he remembered the joke again and laughed even harder than before. Each look at the man's unamused expression triggered another almost inaudible wheeze from him.
"No, I crawled my way up from hell," the man spat with crossed arms.
Dream was still laughing, but he held his palms up. "Okay, okay, sorry. I just—I need a moment."
The man sighed as Dream continued his hysterical laughter but spoke again when his laughter began to die down. "Has anyone ever told you that you sound like a tea kettle?"
"A lot of people, actually," Dream said with a grin. He looked back up to meet the other man's gaze, and then it hit him.
A man with wings just fell out of the sky and crashed in front of him, and his first instinct was to make a shitty joke. It was storming; he was cold and wet and just wanted to get back home. But maybe he should be taking this situation a bit more seriously.
"What's with your wings?" Dream asked. "We don't have a lot of cosplay conventions down here."
Right. That was the first question he chose to ask.
The man scoffed. "You'd think someone would care more when they meet their guardian angel, but I guess not." His wings flapped, his right smacking into a tree and shaking a few leaves off the branch. It retracted back to his side in an instant. "And my wings are real. I'm not gonna let you touch them, of course, but you'll just have to believe me for now."
Okay. Wait.
"Guardian angel?"
"Yes, your guardian angel. Why're you so surprised by that?"
What the hell?
Dream furrowed his eyebrows. "Oh, I don't know, because I didn't even know you existed? And I don't mean to offend you or anything, but I'm still not entirely sure you're not fucking with me."
"You literally saw me fall out of the sky."
"Good point, but..." He frowned. "Actually, are you hurt? That looked like a long fall."
The man stared at him in disbelief. Were guardian angels supposed to be this indignant? "You only just now ask me that? And no, the only thing hurt from that fall was my pride. I don't follow the same rules of mortality as humans."
Dream looked him up and down.
Seeing as how the man was well enough to stand up on his own and didn't have any discomfort visible on his face, he probably wasn't lying about not being hurt. Dream knew for a fact there weren't any buildings that even went near where the man fell from. The tallest tree was visible from where he was standing, too. And he wasn't a certified expert on angel wings, but the man's fluid control over them certainly hinted that they weren't some complex mechanical system...
Oh, shit. Was this actually his guardian angel?
"Say my name," Dream said.
The man's nose wrinkled. "Why should I?"
"If you're really my guardian angel, then you should know my name by now. You've been with me my whole life, right?"
"No, that was the bastard that got promoted. I drew the short end of the stick and had to fill his position a month ago. Anyway..." A sheet of paper materialized in front of the man. "You're Clay."
Dream's nose wrinkled. "Ugh, if you were actually my guardian angel, then you'd know I prefer Dream."
The man frowned and pursed his lips. Before he could say anything, lightning clapped much too near for Dream's liking.
Dream turned towards the noise.
Flames licked the treetops, spiraling to the ground within a single blink. There was no way that was good, not with the way the fire ate away at the particularly large branches of the tree. The rain had no effect on how intensely it blazed.
"Look out!"
A fireball rained from the sky right above Dream. That was all he could see before the man rushed forward and flapped a wing. Then the fireball streaked towards the other side of the path.
Did... Did he save him?
"God, you are literally the worst person at staying alive," the man grumbled. "There's a flaming branch coming towards you, and that's your first instinct? Just sit there and watch it burn? Fucking idiot."
The man's insults flew past Dream's head. Dream's eyes flittered from the man to the direction the branch was pushed away, then back to the man.
"Holy shit, you're actually my guardian angel," Dream breathed. Then when the man finally smiled, he burst out laughing. "Dude, I am so sorry! You're the poor guy that got assigned to me? You? What kind of sin did you commit for you to get stuck with me? Oh my god, this is insane."
The smile vanished as quickly as it came, replaced with a scowl. "Whatever. Get to your apartment so less things can potentially kill you."
A smile was still present on Dream's face, but the laughter stopped. "Huh? How're you gonna explain the wings on your back, genius?"
"I'm only visible to you right now. When I turn visible again, my wings will be hidden. So, right now, you look like a maniac."
"Good to know. And who said you were allowed in my apartment?"
The man scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Even if you didn't let me in, I could still force my way in. I can go wherever you go, after all. And it's your fault I'm down here in the first place, so it would be in your best conscious to give me somewhere to stay."
Dream's eyebrows furrowed. He pointed a thumb at himself. "My fault?"
"Yes, it's your fault!" the man shouted. "Other people can stay alive for more than two days, so their guardian angels watch them from heaven. But you? God, you can't stay alive for more than five minutes. My boss literally sent me down here so I could keep better watch over you."
"You have a boss?"
"That's what you got out of my entire rant?"
Dream shrugged and brushed bits of ash off his shoulder. Maybe they should get going, even if he wasn't keen on having a snarky angel as his roommate for an undetermined amount of time. "Whatever, dude. I guess you can stay on my couch."
The man's wing flapped away another flaming tree branch. "Can we please leave now?"
"Can I have your name first?"
"It's George. Now move!"
The second George pushed Dream forward, a log collapsed on the path right where Dream was standing.
Well, that was all the prodding Dream needed.
Dream ran down the broken path to his apartment, George following close behind him.
*
"Wow, you call that cooking? My cat ate better food when I was still alive."
"Aren't you supposed to be my protector or something?"
"Protector from physical attacks, not verbal ones."
It wasn't even half an hour into this arrangement and Dream already hated it. Was he allowed to fire his guardian angel? Was that a thing? He didn't need him anyway!
He reconsidered that thought when George blocked his hand from touching the stove.
Consideration of that came back when George rolled his eyes.
"Do you have to be here?" Dream said as he poured spaghetti onto two plates.
George, to his credit, took the plates and set them on the table. "I don't want to be here either, but rules are rules." He took the forks Dream handed him and set them down. "If you have guests coming over, they won't notice anything. Just try not to interact with me and everything will go smoothly."
"Unless you try to embarrass me."
"I'm not risking getting demoted for you."
"Fair enough." Dream looked down at George's tattered clothing. "Um, do you wanna get dressed in something less dirty? I'm pretty sure any of my clothes will fit you."
George shrugged. "They get reset once they've taken enough damage. This is pretty close to the limit."
Dream took a spoon and flicked marinara sauce at him.
"Are you kidding me?" George said when the sauce landed on him. In a split second too quick for Dream to comprehend, his outfit was repaired. "That actually worked?"
"You didn't know?"
"It's not every day that you get marinara sauce flung at you."
"Good point." Dream sat down at the table, then turned to George expectantly.
George was leaned against the counter, staring down at his fingernails with a blank expression on his face. His leg bounced up and down, as if he was waiting for something.
Dream raised an eyebrow. "George? You're not gonna eat?"
George jumped upon hearing his name. His eyes locked onto Dream completely. "Oh, this was for me? I thought you were waiting for a friend."
"I would've told you if someone was coming."
"Right. Um..." George cleared his throat. "I appreciate the sentiment, but angels don't need to eat. They can, of course, but it's not necessary for survival."
Huh. It was weird seeing George so suddenly bashful.
"Do you want to eat?" Dream said.
"I mean, I don't not want to eat. I don't have any feelings on the matter."
"Then eat." Dream pushed the plate of spaghetti closer towards the other side of the table. "It's the least I could do to repay you for saving my life so many times."
George furrowed his eyebrows, his lips pursing as if he were trying not to smile. His shoulders relaxed. "Well... thank you for the meal."
This was probably one of the most awkward dinners Dream had been present in. How the hell was he supposed to know how to talk to a literal angel? Would it be rude to ask about his past life? It'd probably be even ruder to ask about his death. Maybe he should ask about how heaven worked, but he couldn't think of any questions that George couldn't dismiss as stupid.
Dream glanced up.
Holy shit.
George smiled as he twirled the spaghetti around his fork. He watched it unfurl inch by inch, then put the forkful in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
What an angelic smile.
Dream directed his gaze back at his own unfinished plate and continued eating in silence.
*
"So... what do you wanna do?"
George wrinkled his nose as if he wasn't standing behind Dream while he lied down on the couch. "What do you mean?"
"It's still too early to go to sleep, but I already did all my errands yesterday."
"Oh, trust me, I'm aware. Painfully aware."
Dream rolled his eyes. "Isn't this whole guardian angel thing supposed to be your job?"
"I am doing my job! Do you know how many things almost fell on you at the supermarket? I was tempted to just let one fall on you, but out of the goodness of my heart—"
"Yeah, that's bullshit." Dream craned his head to look around his apartment.
What could he and George do? George looked to be around his age, but there was no way of confirming that without asking. Even if he had his age, he didn't have a clue what he liked to do.
"Do you feel like doing anything?" Dream asked. He sat up. "What do you do for fun? I mean, you have to have some interest in something..."
George sighed. "Dream, don't pay attention to me. The entirety of last month was me watching you make a fool out of yourself. Coming down to Earth just streamlined the process a bit more."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well..." George sat down where Dream's feet were a few seconds ago. "When a guardian angel is in heaven, they get a gut feeling whenever their charge is in danger. We can race down to Earth in the matter of seconds and come back in the same time, but we have a line of communication with heaven in case we have to stay longer."
Dream frowned. "Then why're you down here?"
"You almost die so often that it's just more convenient to be down here. Besides..." He looked away, and there was an air of uncertainty around him, as if he had taken a cloud from heaven and surrounded himself with it. "Doesn't that get boring sometimes? You wake up every day knowing that today might be your last, feeling the world do its damned best to make it your last, but you tell yourself that you're safe. It's always been like this, so why wouldn't it be safe? Your life isn't normal by any means, but nor is it a particularly exciting—oh my god, I almost forgot you have a cat."
And just like that, the cloud was lifted as soon as a cat slunk into the room. It walked a few steps to Dream before pausing and turning its head towards George.
"Here, kitty," George called. The amount of delight on his face rivaled a kid in a candy shop.
"Patches, actually," Dream said, leaning back. "Not Kitty. Honestly, I thought you'd know after watching me for a month."
George didn't respond, apparently too busy trying to draw the cat towards him.
*
After an awkward few hours of playing with Dream's cat and having stilted conversations over a game of Uno, the two agreed to retire for the night. And now Dream lied in bed, staring up at the ceiling while wondering what had gotten him into this mess.
The way George spoke implied that everyone (or at least the majority) had guardian angels who were meant to protect them. On the other hand, people died every day, so maybe he was full of shit. And seeing as how Dream didn't even know George existed until today, he assumed George would appreciate him keeping his existence a secret.
Still, what the hell? Heaven or God or whoever ran the show up there could've at least given him a warning before suddenly dumping an entire, literal man in front of him. The couch was the only place Dream could find for George to sleep (even if George insisted he didn't need to sleep, was Dream supposed to believe he couldn't feel exhaustion?). Thank god he even had a blanket to spare. In the day, he'd need to start buying more food. Even if George said he didn't need to eat, Dream wasn't willing to let that smile he saw at the dinner table slip past him.
But... the day had felt less empty. Dream loved Patches, but there was only so much of a void a cat could fill before he just became increasingly aware of what was missing. He had friends, even a few close ones he couldn't imagine life without. He was still close with his family who lived just a few hours away. He was on his start to a promising career. Yet some guy that fell out of the sky filled that void better than any of those. How?
That wasn't going to be easy to answer, and frankly, Dream didn't feel like putting any effort into answering it right at that moment. For now, he could bear spending a little extra on food and maybe buying some clothes that an actual human would wear in public.
It was the least he could do for his guardian angel.