Let the Games Begin DreamNotFound

Chapter 35

The chapter cover image is fanart I received from one of my readers on AO3! Lots of love to PhilosophieDerSeele, they have been around a long time and their art is absolutely stunning!

George POV

"It's okay, Georgie. I'm going to take you home."

A simple sentence held an impact that shook the universe to its core. Dazzling rainforests reflected in a heavy gaze, raising from the dark floor to silently study the brunette. An invisible weight sat heavy upon the owner of those eyes, yet his lashes flit up in a look that could only be described as gentle.

George's breaths came fast and light, struggling to kickstart his brain into functioning. "You're... you're going to...." 

He couldn't finish the words, lips parting helplessly. Too much information had been piled on him in the past twenty-four hours, and just when he'd finally made a decision, the dirty blond dropped another bomb on him. He wanted to put a voice to his thoughts, but he failed to grasp a single one. His thoughts scattered like snakes, escaping him no matter how hard or fast he reached.

"It's okay." Dream reassured him, softly tilting his head. That piercing emerald gaze saw right through him, past flesh and bones to the turmoil raging inside. "You don't have to say anything, George. It's okay."

The brunette shook his head, his vision blurring in frustration. He swallowed the tears down, mouth pursing in a tight line. 

Unfortunately, Dream mistook his expression as something else. Green eyes flicked to the floor, shadows briefly consuming the bright color to murky pine. The dirty blond cleared his throat with obvious effort, and when he lifted his chin, all traces of hurt were gone. 

A blade of determination unsheathed, and he straightened up. Leaving the wall behind, Dream flit a casual glance around the room. To anyone else, he appeared bored rather than checking where the chest pieces were in his new game.

"C'mon." The dirty blond strode out the room.

George bowed his head and helplessly followed. The alien set a fast pace, weaving through the halls in the direction of the private quarters. He hurried to keep up, slamming face-first into sturdy shoulders when Dream abruptly stopped. The brunette rubbed his nose, eyebrows furrowing at the other.

"Sorry." Dream apologized. "It's just... this next part will have a lot of running, and your feet are-"

"I'm fine." George cut him off. "I can run."

The worry didn't leave green eyes, but a nod of acknowledgement sent them speed walking again. Numbered doors passed them, an overhead announcement for scheduled meal time echoing in the white hall. Players in the hall gave them odd glances, confusion written on their faces. They obviously wondered why the two were going in the opposite direction, but they didn't dare ask.

Dream dragged George into a room marking in glaring silver letters. 101. 

The brunette opened his mouth, ready to question why they'd come here, when purple fabric shut him up. On the bed were two familiar purple jumpsuits. 

"No masks, they put trackers in those." Dream picked up one of the suits, tossing it at the gaping human. "Hurry and get changed." 

George fumbled to catch the suit in shaking hands. He nodded, and the dirty blond turned his attention away. Dream pushed the bed in front of the door, metal producing horrible scraping sounds. 

Ducking into the bathroom, George quickly threw his blue tracksuit to the side and slipped violet fabric over his skin. His hands shook so hard he struggled with the zipper for a few seconds they couldn't afford to waste. Were they seriously escaping?