Chapter 24

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Dream hated sleeping on the couch. It was small, cramped, and no where near as comfortable as the bed was. But most of all, he hated not getting to sleep next to George.

Most nights, Dream was able to deal with it and get enough sleep to function properly the next day. But this particular night was different. Maybe it had something to do with the couch, or maybe it was all the things that George had said to him earlier that day. Everything in him felt conflicted and complicated, and that resulted in a mostly restless night of tossing and turning.

It was about four in the morning when Dream finally gave up on sleep altogether. He pushed himself up from the couch and made his way to the darkened kitchen for a drink of water. He downed the glass quickly, and as he placed it back down on the counter, the lights overhead flicked on.

He turned, and he gave a small smile when he saw George standing in the doorway, his finger still hovering near the light switch. He was wearing sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that belonged to Dream, and his hair was messy and sticking up in certain places.

"You okay?" Dream asked him quietly, and George nodded.

"I thought I heard something in here," George answered with a yawn, "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Dream smiled, but then gave a guilty look as he muttered, "I'm sorry, I was trying to be quiet. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"I was already up," George answered with a reassuring smile, "I don't sleep too well most nights. It's kind of strange, sleeping in an apartment that doesn't feel like your own."

Dream nodded, but the words left him feeling sad and slightly empty. He wanted this to feel like home for George, and the words were just a reminder of how far they had yet to go.

George seemed to sense the sudden change, and he took a step closer as he quietly said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, Dream."

"I know," Dream responded, "you don't need to apologize. I know it'll take time, and I know you're trying your best. I couldn't ask for more than that."

George only smiled, and a comfortable silence settled over them.

Dream looked across the room, and he noticed that George's eyes had drifted down, questioning and curious like they had been since George had woken up in the hospital. And Dream was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was standing there shirtless. Of course, George had seen him in more compromising situations than this, but he felt strangely vulnerable under George's roaming eyes.

George crossed the room slowly, and his voice was quiet as he said, "you have a lot of scars. What are they from?"

Dream faltered, he had no idea how to answer that question. While George knew about what they did for work, Dream had been hesitant to relay the specifics. He didn't want George to have to relive trauma that he couldn't remember. George was so blissfully unaware of how difficult things had been the past couple of years, and Dream didn't want to be the one to take that away from him.

Dream's eyes caught on George's hand as it moved slowly towards him, and questioning eyes found his as George asked, "is this okay?"

Dream nodded, and warm fingers touched lightly against the scar that ran along Dream's jaw. He dragged his fingers slowly along the length of it, and Dream quietly muttered, "that one is from your brother, Techno."

George knew only a little bit about Technoblade. He seemed hesitant to ask questions about him, almost like he could sense that things between them had been bad.

He only nodded, and his fingers dropped down to lightly touch the scar on Dream's chest. It was the scar from when Technoblade had shot him, and Dream's chest tightened as he quietly said, "that one is from Techno, as well."

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