The Railroad

Chapter 11

**gore**

After making the distance they wanted, the two had stopped to make camp. Since they were in an old city, they set up in an abandoned grocery store. Parts of the ceiling had fallen down and the floor was covered in filth, but at least it blocked the wind.

"Ooh!" George squeaked, excited by his realization. "I bet there's a bunch of snacks that weren't stolen whenever the store was ransacked! I'm gonna go see if I can find us some."

"Okay," Dream laughed, admiring the cute nature of how enlivened George seemed at the possibility.

George skipped off, delighted by the prospect of being able to eat candy again. In the richer cities they had some pleasantries when it came to food, but still scarcely any compared to what they'd had before. There were limits to their options: certain food items were considered to be more vital than snack type options.

The aisle came into view and George went just a bit faster. Just as he thought, there was still a variety of different candy and chips remaining on the shelves, waiting to be eaten. As he began to scoop stuff into his arms, he figured it would most likely be immensely easier to get a cart or basket, that way he wouldn't have to take as many trips.

The brunet made his way back towards the front, searching for any left over baskets. They weren't where they would normally be, though it had been twelve years so it wasn't all that surprising. He finally found a stack of them, overturned next to the shattered sliding doors of the entrance. Victoriously, he leaned down to grab one, grimacing and how nasty it felt against his smooth hand. Suddenly, a loud noise sounded behind him, scaring him shitless.

He stumbled back, nearly tripping over the baskets as he frantically looked around, attempting to find the source of the noise. His eyes found nothing, only a rack that had fallen over for seemingly no reason.

"Dream?" he called hesitantly, not wanting to be loud so whoever-or whatever-it was didn't know his location. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black figure run past and his breath caught. "Dream, I swear to god if this is some joke... I'm gonna slap you." No response. "D-Dream... come on it isn't funny anymore. Please Dream! You're really starting to scare me. Stop it-"

A hand flew over his mouth, and the opposite arm went around his waist. An all too familiar voice whispered in his ear "Shut up and you won't be hurt." George then noticed the knife in the person's hand, pressed against his black shirt. "Nod if you understand," Corpse muttered, his hot breath going directly into George's ear, making him shiver. He nodded slowly, beginning to panic.

The brunet was shoved forward as Corpse began to walk, the knife not wavering even slightly. George was only vaguely aware they were in going in the direction of where Dream was waiting, probably wondering where George was, as he was focused entirely on the sharp blade that was too close to piercing into his abdomen. But slowly the thought of the blond made its way into his consciousness, and he realized he couldn't let Corpse get to him when he had no warning.

However, the shorter boy couldn't call out to him without being hurt himself. He was having a conflict with himself in his head, trying to decide what to do. On one hand, Dream was oblivious to the situation at hand, waiting patiently for George to return. He would be at a major disadvantage if he was surprised. On the other, if George were to warn him it was likely that Corpse would do something to him. But, it would mean Dream could be okay.

Dream had done nothing but protect him, nothing but comfort him, nothing but be there for him. George owed this to him, and as soon as this realization came, he acted upon it. Elbowing Corpse in the ribs and stomping on his foot, George tore out of the ravenette's grasp, attempting to run away.

But Corpse grabbed him by the hood of his jacket, harshly yanking him back and sending him toppling across the ground and into a nearby shelf. The brunet hit his head, and suddenly everything was spinning as searing pain flashed across the back of his skull. Corpse grabbed his ankle, sliding the other towards him. He stood over George, knife now back in hand.

George's head was throbbing and he couldn't see straight, but he could still tell that Corpse was bad news and Corpse with a knife was even worse. So, he did the only logical thing he could think of. He screamed.

"DREA-"

He was cut off by a foot to the temple. He cried out, cradling his head that probably had a concussion.

"Shut up!" Corpse whisper-yelled, taking George by the front of the shirt and slamming him onto the ground a few times. George was in so much pain, yet all he could think of was Dream. "I told you, shut up and you don't get hurt! And this is what you do? Bad move, Georgie."

In a split second, the knife was at George's throat. George tried to yell again but he was too out of it to make any real noise. He knew in that moment that he was gonna die. What was odd was that he didn't really care.

Perhaps it was the state of deliria that came with head injuries, or maybe he just didn't want to have to deal with the stress of life anymore. Whatever the case, he felt a sort of tranquility now, even with Corpse's nearly black eye staring into his soul. Even with the fascination, the wonder that he saw in there as Corpse was ready to plunge the knife into his neck.

Not even repose can stifle the natural human instinct of survival. As calm as George was, as apathetic as he felt to the situation, he still put his hand in front of his face when the ravenette brought the knife down.

Noise definitely came with this feeling. George shrieked at the top of his lungs, possibly louder than he'd ever screamed before. It was so loud that Corpse looked startled as he backed off marginally. The shock caused him to not see the blur running up to them, and to not react when he was tackled to the ground. They rolled over a few times until the other finally got a hold and made it on top.

"I told you to never touch him again," Dream growled, punching Corpse in the face.

It was Corpse's turn to call out in pain, especially when Dream punched him again. And again. It didn't take long until the ravenette was unconscious... or dead. George wasn't sure which. He was on the verge himself: the only thing that stopped him was Dream coming over to him.

"Oh princess, I'm so sorry," he murmured, carefully scooping George into his arms and beginning to walk away from the scene. "I shouldn't have let you go off on your own when I knew he was out there and that he wasn't just gonna let this go away. This is all my fault, I'm so sorry."

"Dream," George interrupted. His words were slurred, barely comprehensible. "I already told you, you never have to say you're sorry to me." The blond smiled at him, chuckling a little. It made George grin his own lopsided grin. "My hand kinda hurts," he commented staring down at his red hand, knife still glinting in the dim light of the grocery store.

"I wonder why," Dream joked, but he scowled at it.

"Will you kiss it better?" George asked.

"I'll tell you what, when we get it all patched up, then I will."

"I'm holding you to that," George assured. He rested his head on Dream's shoulder, right next to the crook of his neck. He imagined Dream could feel the warmth of his breath as it became more steady. "I'm tired. I'm sleeping now."

"Sleep well. I'll keep you safe from now on, princess. I promise."

~Word count: 1,351~

A/N: rip that corpse ayyyyy- ALKSLNSLKSN I LOVE THIS CHAPTER SO MUCH. i know george, like, almost dies but that's besides the point. i really did not expect this story to be as long as it is, but it's nearing thirty+ chapters so... stay tuned!