Blurry Nights

Chapter Fourteen | Walls Up

"Dream?" George asked walking over to Dream. He didn't move and was just a lump under the covers. He'd never seen Dream so upset; he was always so good at hiding his feelings. But this time he was a mess.

"Dream, what happened? Please talk to me," George begged, but the lump didn't move as if Dream never heard him.

George battled with the thought of getting into the bed beside Dream. He felt as if it would calm him down, but he knew he had to ask permission. Especially after whatever Dream went through.

"Can I lay beside you?" George asked, slightly nervous. Dream didn't stir. He gave up, going to his own bed and leaving Dream to himself.

Eventually George decided that Dream had fallen asleep, and that he would hopefully talk to him tomorrow.

-

When George woke up, Dream was peeking out of the covers, inspecting the room as if to check if Gibson was present. 

"Dream?" he asked. Dream's eyes shifted to George for a moment before looking away.

"Are you okay?" George tried to get Dream's attention, but instead he disappeared back into the safety of the covers. He was frustrated but tried to stay calm and understand.

But whatever had happened, Dream was traumatized. 

"Please.. I want to help—I want to be there," George begged. He peeked from the covers. His eyes flickered—the only way George knew Dream was somewhat listening.

His eyes saddened, looking away from George. "I—I need—I need space..." He sounded weak, as if forcing out every word like speaking was painful.

"What did he do to you?" George let his eyes fall to the floor, tears dripping from his eyes. By the time George looked back up, Dream was gone, back underneath the covers and out of George's view.

-

It felt like hours as George waited for Dream to talk to him again. He glanced at the thin covers every now and then to make sure Dream was alive under there.

George sat on his bed, letting everything play in his mind and trying to find ways to help his friend when he was so far away, out of reach. He decided he would wait till Dream came to him.

George didn't know how long it would take, but he felt useless. Obviously, he needed time to heal, and George understood that but that, didn't mean he liked it. Just a day ago they were in the same bed and now Dream wouldn't talk at all.

George eventually let himself sleep despite everything. It wasn't much of a rest, but it was something.

-

When he woke up, Dream was still under the covers but peeking out instead of being out of view. George grabbed a wooden chair from the desk, putting it at Dream's bedside and sitting down.

Dream watched George as if anticipating a questionnaire. He wasn't exactly wrong. 

"Are you going to come out of there anytime soon?" George asked, starting with a simple and easy question when he had tons on his mind.

Dream shook his head, but didn't speak. George sighed. He had a feeling that would be the answer. "What happened? You don't have to go into details at all, but are you hurt?"

Dream nodded. 

"Where? How can I help?"

"Everywhere," Dream whispered, letting out a painful wheeze, his eyes scrunching in pain. 

"Shh... Don't speak, I just want you to get better. Can I look at you? Look at the damage, I mean," George asked. 

Dream's eyes dropped, thinking about his request.  

"Please? I can help—Let me help," George begged.

Dream tried to speak, but George stopped him. He got up and grabbed some paper and a pencil from the desk he had taken the chair from earlier. He shook the paper in front of Dream who grabbed it so fast that George had no time to inspect his arm for wounds of any kind.

Just as quick, the paper was given back, a "No" scribbled horribly on the paper. 

George sighed and attempted to strike a bargain with Dream's eyes—the only visible things despite his cranium. "Can I see your arm so that you can write?"

Despite the uncomfortable look in Dream's eyes, he held out his hand. George carefully inspected the scarred skin. The wounds clearly burned to the touch because Dream turned away, pain in his eyes.

"Is everywhere like this?" George asked in a hushed tone. When Dream looked away again, George knew. 

"Why? Why all this? You did nothing wrong!" he muttered angrily.

Dream motioned towards the paper. George handed it to him, and the paper disappeared behind the sheet before reappearing

'Just one of those days...' Dream wrote.

George shook his head, holding back the anger.  He got up, heading to the bathroom to get water to help cool his wounds.

-

Dream pulled away with every tap on his frail skin, but eventually calmed down, feeling some kind of relief from the care. Unfortunately, the best George could do was with only water and towels. Luckily, his other arm wasn't in as bad of shape, George could only imagine how other places looked.

"Can you come out now so I can do the rest? You just have to sit up or come out of the sheet," George said hopefully.

Dream seemed to be thinking about it, but instead shook his head, taking the paper only for it to be brought out with:

'Too much pain. Sitting up...' Dream wrote, blinking.

"Okay... That's alright, you don't have to sit up, just let me look at you. You don't even have to move if you would like." George smiled slightly.

Dream thought for a moment before nodding hesitantly. He released the sheets but didn't move from his position.

George gripped the sheet, looking into Dream's eyes for a go ahead which he got shortly after. When he lifted the sheet, he saw some of the damage. Most of it was probably under his clothing, though.

George dodged his worst wounds, inspecting his skin. He pulled away, looking to him. "Can I take your shirt off?" Dream stiffened until he added, "I won't touch anything; I'm just looking."

Dream nodded his head, biting his lip which caused him to whimper in pain. 

"Dream, don't do that, please, be careful..." George hushed, trying to calm him down.

George was very afraid of what he would find...

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Do you guys know what Gibson is doing to Dream? Ruby figured it out, can you? Hopefully daily chapters again!! Awesome!

Stay calm, Stay alive
Onyx

My years of writing and psychology studies have come to fruition, and I have beaten all you mortals to the riddle of Dream's heart.

~lead editor ruby