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Time Skip: 5 days after the ice bath treatment

10.03PM, George's Room

George was laying on his bed as the rain patted against his window quietly. He was thinking about Dream, again. It wasn't uncommon for George to have daydreams or thoughts creep into his mind about the criminal. He didn't know what it was, but Dream was special. Although he had only met the man a week ago, it felt like a lifetime. All his spare time was spent thinking about what happened to him, what made him so distanced from other humans? Perhaps it was his dad but it might've been something else.

At the moment, a memory of today's session haunted his mind. Dream had been given a long sheet of fabric to sleep with after the ice bath, but he'd tied the ends to the top bars in the cage and was laying as if he was in a hammock for all of that session. He looked quite peaceful in George's opinion and the brunette wished he could lay with the man for a just minute. Karl and George had concluded that George wasn't just being seduced by the criminal, but George might have had a small crush. He denied it at first but once he thought about it more it really made sense. Karl said they needed to go out to the club so George would stop being so easily tricked into flirting with his patient. Reluctantly George agreed and they decided to go that Saturday. It was Wednesday and George was already regretting it.

George remembered when he managed to get some information out of Dream. It had only happened a few days ago and he was surprised. George hadn't shared this information with anybody, not even Karl, for he didn't know what people would do with this information. It wasn't too bad, though it would probably mean George's sessions with the criminal would go to a stop. George had figured out why Dream was a psychopath, the cause for all the murders.
This is how it went down:

"So Dream, do you want to answer my question today?"
Dream shifted his sitting position to become more comfortable, then answered.
"Your question was what those people did to me, Correct?"
"Yes Dream, you are correct."
"So let me tell you this George, it's not what they did. It's what they didn't do. When I was a kid I would walk into school with a bruised eye and a bloody noise. What did the teachers do? Call CPS? No, they gave me a tissue and told me to fuck off. When I would sit in the dining hall with no lunch they wouldn't bat an eye. As I got older I realised that no one cared for me, no one loved me. I was alone. And when my family got evicted from our home the government did nothing. There's absolutely nothing that government has ever done for us that has been good. So I grew up to despise them. I hate the government. I hate the rich. I hate everyone that lived a better life then the one I lived as a kid. So now you understand why I kill. To get back at those who did nothing when I needed help most. I killed those teachers because they reminded me of my teachers, your assumption was correct! And when I get out of here I'll do some of my biggest stunts yet."

Dream began to laugh here. George was in shock. Everything he needed to send Dream to prison was just handed to him. But instead of feeling pride that he had cracked the criminal, George felt upset. He felt sorry for this man who felt he needed to kill others to get back at those who hurt him as a kid. It seemed pathetic, childish even to the outside world. But for Dream and George, it made perfect sense.

Now as George lay in bed the rain started to get heavy. He curled himself into a ball and thought about wether he agreed with Dream or not. Did the government deserve this? Did all those helpless people deserve this? Dream's reason for killing was exactly the same as George's for giving patients torture treatments, getting back at them. Maybe George and Dream weren't so different after all.

Now an even more difficult question slipped into George's mind, did he love Dream? George groaned out of frustration. Did he? Was it a crush? A crush on his patient was incredibly inappropriate, but George couldn't care less. When he first saw the criminal something sparked in George, some sort of electricity. Was it soulmates? Did George believe in that sort of stuff? Whatever it was the criminal gave him butterflies in his stomach every day. This was more than a crush, and George loved it.

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A/N: Very short chapter, but it's late at night so shoosh.
Word count: 825

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