Criminal Minds ~ DNF

30

George woke up in an entirely different room than he had the day before. He opened his eyes and met bright emerald ones.

"Hello, love," Dream smiled.

"Too early for that," George murmured, throwing his hand over his eyes to shy away from the light.

"Too early for what?" Clay asked, trailing his finger up and down George's hairline. The cut had healed nicely; even Dream's shitty suture handiwork hadn't scarred.

"That," George smirked, grabbing ahold of Dream's hand. He smiled then, the expression full of admiration.

"That was one hell of a night, wasn't it?" Clay bought up with a wry smile. George put his hand on Dream's chest, snuggling closer to him.

"You make it sound so dirty," he said, burying his face in Dream's hoodie.

"I know, but the readers will probably get bored if they think we haven't had sex yet," Dream chuckled.

"Shush," George mumbled.

____________________________________

You'd never guess that an FBI agent could fall in love with a criminal, much less one that shot him, but here George was. In Dream's house even after he kidnapped him. Why was he here? Truly, George couldn't tell you. Maybe it was the way Dream spoke, or the way he smelled, or the way he held George. Maybe it was just Dream in general. The mysterious, secret-keeping, mask-wearing serial killer who loved him. At least, George wanted to believe that Dream loved him.

That was perfect... until it wasn't.

He couldn't shake the feeling that this was nothing but a hostage situation. He wasn't allowed to go outdoors without supervision, wasn't allowed to make new friends, wasn't allowed to do anything. He understood why. He was supposed to be dead - he needed to keep a low profile. Still, he missed the outside world. Even after the countless times he'd proved that he wouldn't, Dream seemed paranoid that George would run away. Both boys were stupid to think that they could stay away from each other.

Everything was perfect.

There was no bounty on Dream's back anymore. He had sent Captain Puffy one more email- a picture of a suicide note and a video of said "suicide". Apparently, Dream couldn't live with what he had done and he couldn't go back to Pandora's box so he killed himself. (In the video, he threw Drista's (unplugged) hairdryer into a full bathtub and cut the cameras). Even so, they strayed away from society to not raise suspicion.

Everything was perfect.

There were a few more impromptu visits from Quackity (and assorted friends that he'd dragged along) but by then it was expected of him. Dream didn't mind as much as he thought he did - Quackity was a good laugh sometimes. He was given leeway. It just sucks that when you give someone like Quackity an inch, they take a mile. Pretty much every time the Mexican entered, he was almost immediately forced back out.

Everything was perfect.

Well...

Puffy had sent police crews to Florida in search of George's body (if there even was one). She wasn't entirely convinced that he was dead. After forcing herself to watch the video again, she noticed something. There were no entry points that could have been bleeding. No stab wounds, no bullet holes. No specific area that the blood had come from. She was skeptical that the brunette had even been harmed at all. The only proof that there had ever been an injury was a bloodied kitchen knife in the background.

Everything was perfect... except that.

The police had knocked on the door, which was as usual opened by Drista. She and Sapnap worked together to get rid of the armed officers, pretending not to speak much English. Spanish was the language of choice - when you're friends with Quackity you pick certain phrases up. Sapnap barely spoke, just blurting out an accented "Legal immigrants!" every now and again. It only took five minutes for the cops to give up trying to talk to them.

And once again, everything was perfect.

But then George got sick.

Just kidding. In truth, the Dream Team and Drista would live together in harmony for many years to come. After the conversation about them died down, the two lovers moved to England (despite George's adamant protests). They made their friends there and couldn't be happier. Sapnap couldn't get Karl to come with him so he stayed, occupying the house that Dream and George left behind. Drista was torn between Sap and Dream but inevitably chose Sapnap - after all they'd had to deal with, Dream and George deserved some alone time together. She would join them in a few years or so.

That was perfect.

Dream and George lived it up in Manchester for a while, staying as far away from London as they could while they had their fun. Going out on the town, drinking, just doing their own thing. While that was fun and all, reality set in when people got drunk. George, ever the goody-two-shoes, had never done proper clubbing and had no idea what to do when drunk girls (and guys!!!) came up and began hitting on him. By God, it was all Dream could do not to kill them all on the spot. He'd ushered George out, laughing through his teeth until it actually became funny. The two giggled for ages then, talking about how the girls looked like they'd had a rather rough night (if you catch my drift). Life went on from there.

Even that was perfect.

In short, the two lived happily ever after together for quite some time. Sixty years, to be exact. They died in each other's arms at the ripe old age of eighty-seven. Time heals all wounds, though they were sorely missed. They were known by friends as 'Clay and George'. Never 'Clay' or 'George' singularly. They were too iconic for that.

They were perfect for each other.

Two men, torn from each other by society reunited by their undying love for the other. A fake backstory to tell their friends, yet true to an extent. The real story of their deaths made the news under the headline "The Deaths of Two Already Dead Men." Their narrative was made public by Sapnap and Drista, for that's what they thought Dream and George deserved.

Everything was perfect once more.

Everything was perfect this time around. No more Fundy, no more Puffy, no more kidnapping, no more deaths. Everything was perfect.

That was the story of Dream and George. They were perfect.

Perfect.