Forever

Chapter 30

The first morning back in London, George woke up alone. Without even having to leave the bed, he knew that Dream wasn't there; it was far too quiet in the apartment.

George typically wouldn't be concerned with being alone, but this particular morning felt different. He had woken up feeling like something was off, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. But as he pushed himself up in bed, he noted that he felt strange; disoriented, hazy, and like he wasn't fully there.

Panic rose in his chest quickly, and he assumed this was some delayed symptom of the surgeries he had undergone or the gunshot wound. He called Dream's name even though in the back of his mind, he knew Dream wasn't there to help him. As the name left his lips, a memory resurfaced; Dream had gotten a call from Sapnap late the night before, and he had agreed to stop by Philza's that morning to help him out with something.

All it took was that one recent memory, and it was like the floodgates had been opened and more memories followed in waves.

George saw flashes of a childhood he couldn't remember; his mother's smile and the long, flowing dresses she used to wear, Philza's laugh and the way he used to watch cartoons with George during the early hours of the morning, and running through the summer heat with Technoblade and Wilbur when they had little to worry about aside from sunburns and skinned knees.

And then things got darker, and George slid out of the bed to sit down on the floor as his chest tightened. He drew his knees up to his chest as he caught glimpses of a life he wasn't sure he wanted to remember. There was a feud with Technoblade that he didn't know the cause of, arguments with Sapnap and Philza that he couldn't explain, senseless killings and far more bloodshed than he had ever expected.

George dropped his face down into his hands, feeling tears staining his cheeks. It was too much too quickly, and he was so overwhelmed he wanted to scream. It was as if all the memories were being handed back to him in broken, fragmented pieces, and he had no idea how to put them back to together in a way that made sense.

His hands were shaking, and then suddenly there were warm palms touching the sides of his face. He couldn't make himself move, even as he heard a soothingly familiar voice speaking to him, "George? What's going on? What happened?"

He didn't know how to put it into words, and he couldn't seem to make himself stop crying long enough to form a coherent thought. He felt Dream's hands circle his wrists, gently pulling his hands away as more concerned words filled the air around him, "George, come on. Talk to me, please."

The same warm hands found his face again, tilting it up even as George kept his eyes squeezed closed. He felt soft lips graze his temple, and arms circled his shoulders as Dream quietly murmured, "just relax, George. I'm here, okay?"

"Dream," George managed to whisper back, clinging to the familiarity of him as he hugged him back, "it's too much, it's all too much. I don't-"

His voice faltered and faded, and Dream ran his fingers slowly through George's hair as he said, "what's too much, George?"

George only shook his head, finally prying his eyes open as Dream gently instructed, "just breathe, George. I need you to open your eyes and look at me, okay?"

George blinked up at him, trying to focus as the room swayed around him. He felt Dream's thumbs softly grazing the side of his face, and he kept his gaze leveled as he took slow, calming breaths. As he looked at Dream, he was hit with a new wave of memories; trips around the world, soft touches and gentle words, and finally feeling like he was home after spending so many years lost and alone.

"You're here," George murmured quietly through his tears.

"Of course I am," Dream reassured him, "I'm here, George. I'll always be here."