The Heart of the Ocean (DNB)

The Lost and The Found

some angsty war stuff for y'all. this is mostly just exposition.

TWs/CWS: war, death, tobacco consumption, descriptions of shell shock/disassociation

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Dawson:

⠀⠀⠀Working at the docks helped Dream put himself through teacher's college. He graduated with his BA in the spring of 1916. The School for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing in town accepted his application that summer and Callahan finished teaching him sign language the week before school began.

⠀⠀⠀Dream bit his lip as he stared at the entrance to the school. The school was short-staffed this year for many reasons and Dream was informed at his interview that he would have to teach a larger class than normal. The challenge would be exciting, Dream had told himself.

⠀⠀⠀Dream entered his designated classroom and pushed back his hair, jittery. This would be his first real job and he would start making actual money. Enough money to pay Callahan back for his loans and to move out and support Ranboo.

⠀⠀⠀His chair had leather padding and could spin in a circle. The desk that came with the chair was made of the same darkly stained wood and was large enough to be a moderately sized dining table. The handles were a gold colour scuffed with age.

⠀⠀⠀The blonde was comfortably sitting in his chair, hands propped up on his desk when he realized that he should have brought some supplies. He was in such a rush trying to get Ranboo off to school that he forgot the things he needed to teach. He cringed, disappointed with himself.

⠀⠀⠀There was a knock at the door and he got up to let them in. A woman stood with a pre-teen daughter. The woman smiled kindly and guided the child into the class.

⠀⠀⠀"You must be Mister Dawson, the new teacher," her voice was just as kind as her smile.

⠀⠀⠀Dream nervously brought a hand to his nape and chuckled. "Yeah, just graduated teacher's college in June."

⠀⠀⠀She nodded her head, "Congratulations," she pointed to her daughter who had sat down at a desk in the middle of the room, "Mary-Ann can speak if you ask her to, but she does not normally. Her reading level is on par with her grade but she struggles with arithmetic. She normally gets along with the other students, so she should not be too troublesome."

⠀⠀⠀Dream nodded in understanding and bid her farewell as she ducked back out of the classroom. Many of the other parents came with their children and gave similar speeches. For the most part, the students seemed to behave well. He did not expect as many to be able to speak as there were, although they typically signed to each other as they communicated with each other.

⠀⠀⠀Dream looked at the clock and worried his lip. Two minutes until the bell would ring and only about fifteen students had shown up. Once the bell had rung, he sat down at his desk, nervously smiling at the class. They stared blankly back at him.

⠀⠀⠀The teacher waved awkwardly at the students and the students mirrored the action.

⠀⠀⠀He then leaned down to open one of the drawers of his desk and found a singular piece of paper with the word "Attendance" at the top and a list of names written in neat cursive below it. He dragged his finger down the rough paper, counting each name. After three counts, he came to the same number– fifteen. He eyed the class nervously before fumbling open the drawer to put the paper back.

⠀⠀⠀The class stared expectantly at him as he stood up. He cleared his throat and introduced himself just how he had been taught: "Good morning, my name is Dream Dawson, but you should refer to me as Mister Dawson."