Moon Drunk || Dreamnotfound

Chapter Twenty - Eight

George 

Dream didn't answer his facetime until the third try, except he had switched it to a simple call.

Dream hadn't answered his call for the rest of the school week, nor had he been at school. And, come to think of it, George hadn't seen a couple of people who he assumed were werewolves.

"Hi, love," a raspy voice said.

George rolled his eyes. "You're doing that stupid voice plus the pet name on purpose, so cut it out."

"I'm not," Dream whined, drawing out the 'not', "I'm tired and I haven't gotten off this goddamn couch like all week."

George frowned. "What the hell happened?"

"Got into a fight with Malachi, like... an actual fight. I'm all fucked up right now, but it ain't too bad, it's healing pretty nicely. I also fucked him up pretty well, " Dream said.

George sighed, and asked, "Why?"

"An argument. Had to do something to decide the winner, he didn't listen, we fought."

The short statements caused George to frown. Something was bothering the werewolf.

Dream changed the subject. "So, there's a party tonight. At the twins' house again. You want to come with me? I can pick you up at like six and then drive us over."

"So you're gonna be the DD?" George asked. "Weren't you blackout drunk last time we were there?"

"Yeah, but I can still drive. A pro of having werewolf senses."

George forced a laugh. "Well then, if you promise not to get me killed, I'll go with you."

It was almost like he could see Dream perk up through the phone. "Perfect! I'll see you in a couple of hours, bye!"

A real laugh, a laugh at Dream's perfect personality. "Bye, you oversized dog."

"Hey!"

Click.

He collapsed back in his bed, letting his thoughts overtake him as he zoned out, barely processing the fact that he was standing on this very earth.

That was until there was a knock on his bedroom door.

"What?!" he called.

"Come downstairs and look at what your dad found!" his mom answered.

Oh shit.

"Coming!"

George hurried downstairs, finding his mom leaning over his dad's shoulder, both looking at the computer sitting on the table. He walked over and peered over his dad's opposite shoulder, eyes widening in fear for his friends, but, to his parents, shock.

Three, almost clear photos of werewolves were on the screen. One, of Dream--George immediately knew--, another of three werewolves, one black, two white, and another with a

brown werewolf, and then one of a wolf of the colors black and white.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

"What the hell are those?" George asked innocently.

"Werewolves," his dad said. "We're looking for what the locations are, and then we're going searching there."

------

"The police know what you guys are," George said as he hopped into the passenger's seat, stealing a kiss from Dream, and catching a glance at the scratches and bruises on his face and neck.

When Dream pulled away, he frowned. "Well hello to you too, love, isn't that a great way to say hello to your boyfriend."

George rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Hi, babe."

Dream smiled. "Good boy, I like that."

Heat flooded George's cheeks from the purr in Dream's voice, and the specific phrase. He looked away, ignoring the soft chuckle that escaped the werewolf's mouth.

He changed the subject. "I'm serious about what I said. They have pictures that are pretty clear and my dad has confirmed that it's werewolves terrorizing the city. They know what to go after now."

Dream flashed him a wicked grin. "Well then, that's a challenge I want to try."

"Even if it gets you hurt?"

"Definitely if it gets me hurt."

George laughed, but a pit formed in his stomach. He reached out and gripped onto one of Dream's hands, intertwining their fingers. Dream squeezed reassuringly. "It'll all be okay."

When they arrived at the twins' house, the front door was opening as soon as they were walking up. Quackity and Techno were standing at the doorway--a drunk grin on Quackity's face and some sort of smirk on Techno's.

Quackity's face then shifted as he said, "Damn, Dream, what happened to your face?"

Dream shoved through the two, keeping George close to his side. "Shit happened, and by the word shit, I mean Malachi, he's shit."

Goerge rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's response. There was laughter throughout the people that were close by, and George assumed a good amount of them were werewolves.

They were immediately thrown into party games; Spin the Bottle, Never Have I Ever, Seven Minutes in Heaven, Truth or Dare, Beer Pong, the classics.

Truth or Dare was terrible. One dare had him jumping in the pool, another had him making out with Dream.

Dream chose truth every time, saying it was 'safer'. But, they ended up getting stuff out of him that none of them ever needed to know. Sapnap was a bitch every time, asking questions that somehow involved George, or Dream's love life, or fantasies.

George now sat on one of the twins' very comfortable couches, slightly curled into Dream, but a cup of beer was in his free hand--the hand not running its fingers through Dream's hair. The damn werewolf wouldn't let him stop.

As Dream was talking to Corpse and Raine on the opposite couch, Quackity sat down next to George, crossing an ankle over a knee.

"Have you seen Karl?" he asked.

George thought for a second before saying, "No, I saw him like once when I first arrived but never since... why?"

"He's been acting strange," Quackity said. "He's avoiding a lot of us, specifically the ones that I think are werewolves, or know are werewolves." Dream.

"I can go look for him," George suggested.

Dream tilted his head towards the two. "Look for who? I can help."

"Karl'," George said. "He's been acting strange."

Dream hummed. "Well c'mon, let's go look for him! I bet I'll find him in less than five minutes."

George rolled his eyes, laughing, but a thought held him back.

Something about Karl.