The Dream Case || Dreamnotfound

14

A hand shook George's shoulder the next morning.

George's head shot up and he relaxed as he realized that it was just Jack. He sat up in his chair and rubbed his eyes, looking down at the table tiredly. Jack pulled out the chair across from him and sat quietly for a moment, setting George's usual coffee in front of him.

"So," Jack asked gently, "how are you George?"

"I'm good," George responded, his voice scratchy. He continued to stare at the table. "I solved it."

"Yeah, you did. Do you want to talk about it?"

George sighed and dragged his eyes up to meet Jack's. He whispered, "What is there to talk about? My boyfriend― is a serial killer. He used me and lied to me and I didn't even notice... what a shit detective I am."

"What's going to happen now?"

"With the case or with Dream?"

Jack gave him a look that said, pick one. George looked away and swallowed thickly. His eyes blurred as tears threatened to spill and he ran his hand through his hair. He whispered hoarsely, "You were right Jack... you said I would eventually hate him." George shook his head and closed his eyes. "I thought you were wrong― I thought I could never hate someone, but I hate him, Jack, I hate him."

"That's okay," Jack said soothingly, "you can hate him. He deserves it. Dream has murdered so many people and now that's done. It's over."

"It's over," George repeated in a quiet voice.

"It's over. We can go back to England, back home. George, do you want to go home?"

George rested his elbow on the table, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. He opened his mouth to respond, but someone approached.

"George," Zak greeted, "how are you?"

"Just great," George muttered numbly.

Zak cleared his throat awkwardly and said, "It's time for you to question Dream."

George froze. "No, you can do it for me."

"He won't talk to me. He keeps asking for you. I know that things between you two are... rough, but you know him better than anyone else. You were his boyfriend and the head detective on his case. It has to be you who questions him."

George lifted his head to look at Zak. Zak frowned as he took in George's appearance― swollen eyes, messy hair, accompanied with George's hoarse voice from his crying. Zak said cautiously, "Technoblade wants you to talk to him. It doesn't have to be right now, but it needs to be soon... before Dream is sent to a more secure prison."

George looked away and said nothing. Zak sighed and muttered a goodbye. Jack said quietly, "George, you don't have to talk to him."

"I do," George said firmly. He stood up abruptly, swaying on his feet. He remembered that he hadn't eaten in a while and his stomach was still empty after throwing up the previous night. George pushed back his nausea and muttered, "If I have to talk to him, it might as well be sooner rather than later."

Jack said something, his tone full of concern, but George ignored him. He walked down the halls and stopped outside the interrogation room. His hand hovered over the door knob. Someone said something from near him, but George couldn't hear it over the drone in his ears. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

The air rushed out of him as his eyes met Clay's. Clay was sitting in the same chair Sapnap had sat in. His ankles were bound and his wrists were cuffed to the chair's armrests. His face brightened at the sight of George, but his expression turned wary moments later.