Love Bites

Chapter 17: Nature vs Nurture

a/n: sorry for the wait :]

warnings: heavy violence, blood, homophobia
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Suddenly, an idea strikes him. George's eyes shoot open.

"We don't have to die."

Dream lifts his head and stares into George's eyes. "What?"

"Okay, listen..." George prefaces, before taking a deep breath and making eye contact with Dream.

"I...I want you to bite me."

Dream's eyes widen in horror, but before he can refute, George continues hastily.

"Just- hear me out. You've gotten a lot better at controlling yourself, so..." George sighs. "...I want you to take some of my blood. But, just enough to- to get us out."

Dream sighs defeatedly. "George. No."

"You-You have to. That's the only way!"

"I'm not going to bite you." Dream reaffirms, now leaning away from George's touch. He immediately pulls the receding hand back into his lap. "I'd rather starve than- than risk fucking killing you! You know how- how unstable I am!"

"What choice do we have?" George's cries drip with helplessness. "I refuse to accept that we're just going to die here and that we can't do anything about it. Not after..." He trails off, and looks at his lap. "...not after I finally found happiness with you."

"George..."

"Look." George resolves, looking back up. "I don't really want to risk this either, but...I trust you, Dream."

"I know but- but-"

Dream stumbles over his words in his frustration.

Frustrations with how fucked they are, how none of this would have happened if he'd just kept his distance from the start of all of this, how he doesn't want to decide anything because all of the options end in something awful.

"I don't trust myself, George!" He finally sobs out, feeling tears prick at his eyes. "The whole reason we're here- the whole reason that you're hurt right n-now- it's because I'm fucking stupid and I can't fucking control myself-"

"Hey, hey." George says softly.

Dream stops talking, holding back from saying over and over how sorry he is and how he never deserved George's trust in the first place.

Or how he never deserved George at all.

George reaches out to Dream's hand, and locks his index finger loosely with Dream's. Though he flinches, Dream accepts the touch.

Even in a shitty, dark cell that smells like blood, George is still looking out for him.

"Breathe."

Dream hardly finds it in himself to try and stop his frantic breaths but he manages, feeling his ribs shake with each pound of his panicked heart.

"If you won't drink my blood, then you can...you can turn me." George explains. "Then my blood won't be as tempting to you and- and then I'll be able to get us out."

Dream grimaces, mind rapidly running through every awful thing about being a vampire.

"What the fuck? No- wha- George you hate vampires!"

"I'd be alive, wouldn't I? At least I- we could..." George's eyes look distant. "...we'd at least have each other, right..? It'd be worth all the...the awful stuff, I think. If we both made it out of here."