MANHUNT {dreamnotfound}

20 • Reunion/Split

A/N: for @harrystyles9357. happy birthday love :]

Edited 18/8/22
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Both men had emerged from the cells looking equally obvious and embarrassed, with faces that were pink and eyes that evaded everyone around them. Dream was finding it hard to really care, given the circumstances. Let them question their relationship, let them wonder.

He was going to see his family, with George.
George, who was... he was slowly becoming someone Dream would not only kill for, but even die for. The surge of protectiveness he felt for the Hunter was something he hadn't experienced often, yet it was clear, in that stark moment of terror, when George was being dragged away— It was as horrible as the moment Drax threw a dagger at him. He didn't want George to be hurt. Ironic considering he used to want to kill him.

Phil looked at George cautiously. They'd walked out of the basements of the strangely beautiful and well-designed home, now at the doorway leading back into the village.

George glanced up, eyed Dream briefly. "What's this?"

Phil said, "I have made a deal with Clay to see his family. This offer I cannot extend to you. All I can offer, I'm afraid, is my hospitality."

"Hospitality?" George grumbled, likely remembering the cell.

"George," Dream warned.

He seemed to wince at Dream's tone. "Sorry. I get it. No one likes the King."

Phil nodded to a rugged building down the pathway. "There's a blacksmith holding all your armour, if you like. Otherwise, you're free to roam my village. No further harm will come to you."

"Thanks, but no. Wearing my armour is what got me into this mess." George looked at his feet for several heartbeats, then looked straight at Phil. "Thank you. For giving me another chance."

"Thank Clay," Phil said in a flat voice, "because otherwise you would be still be locked up."

Dream gnawed on his lower lip, hurriedly saying to George, who was starting to look pissed, "I'm sorry you won't get to come with me. But I won't be long and I'll... hopefully you can meet them."

The anger in his face softened immediately, mellowing like melting snow. "I understand. I'll wait for you." To Phil, he said, "send guards to watch me, if you have to. I'm really only here for D— I mean, Clay."

Dream smiled at him, nodded approvingly.

Phil just dipped his head in thanks before escorting Dream out of the house and down the village. Dream looked over his shoulder just once to see George watching after him.

To Phil, he said, "Can I ask, how come you guys aren't, like, poor?"

The older man's eyes widened. "You can't go asking that."

"Most villages are in poverty," Dream defended. "And all it took was some money from the King's vast bank to help them."

"You never kept the money for yourself?"

"No." When Phil looked impressed, Dream had to add, "I stole things. It became second nature, to survive. Mostly from the King and everyone who doesn't need it."

Silence stretched between them, their boots crunching on a mix of dirt, gravel and sand as they crossed a beaten pathway that led away from the village and closer to the dense greenery.

Dream readjusted his hoodie. It was too hot, and he was too nervous.

Phil finally answered, "We got our wealth from trade. We have access to items that are worth more than the King's gold reserves."