It Wasnt My Fault (DNF)

Part 2: Chapter 46

George pov

Everything ran still.

Nothing moved.

In the wake of my questions, Dream fell quiet in my arms, silent with a sudden calmness with the newly presented idea.

I sat waiting, hoping that this would be the day that he would tell me about his past; the day he would have no more secrets.

The day we would truly be together in anything.

He took a deep breath, sitting up and steeling himself for a verdict he had not yet shared with me.

"My, uhm... my childhood was a lot different than yours..." he says, looking at the ground, his posture bending over his knees and his eyes not acknowledging my presence.

I just sat there, trying to prepare myself for the worst, not realizing that everything that had been kept from me was far beyond my imagination.

"I didn't know my mother until I was fourteen years old. All I knew my entire life were the people that would come and visit me from where I lived in the basement. The people would beat me senseless from as young as two years old, sometimes not bothering to clean the pools of blood that was my only mattress some weeks because they had left me unable to crawl back to the assortments of blankets that was my only comfort.

"One of the people, however, seemed different. When I wanted to by and fight and even kill the people who hurt me without remorse, I couldn't feel that way towards her. It was against my instincts in some ways.

"It was just my luck that she quickly became my only torturer. When I was ten years old, they allowed me to live upstairs, putting a shock collar on me since they were loosing enjoyment in keeping me in the basement.

"At some point I learned how to live through their abuse with no emotion, not flinching when they hit me or cowering when Rey made a move to touch me. I guess that's why I'm so good at hiding things now." Dream gave a dry chuckle, seeming to be almost talking to himself as he continued to speak, never looking at me as he recalled his origins, pulling at my heart.

"I think I figured it out sometime in my twelfth year that the one woman that seemed different from them all was my mother.

"And I was right." Once again, the only sound is his large inhales, air being pulled into his nostrils with such force it left a hiss sounding through the room.

"I was fourteen when I escaped... we would have starved. My mother hadn't fed me in so long and I was losing hope.

"I don't know what made me do it, but somehow I bursted through the wall that kept me captive and I made my way to where my mother was."

I hear the blonde beside me gulp, and when his voice sounds again, it is thick with an emotion almost sad for someone who had abused him his entire life through.

"She was already breathing her last breath when I found her... she used it to cause me even more verbal abuse... and the she haunted me."

Dream's voice cracked so much, sending him into a speechless state as he collapsed in my arms again, crying his heart out at last.

Finally he could let go.

Finally he could breath.

Finally, he was weightless.

I could feel it even as his body shook with cries and tears streamed into my hoodie that his sobs were light, not weighted down with something more pressing, something more unbearable, with something more suffocating hidden underneath.

It prompted me to urge him further, to help him to exploit whatever parts of the past he was comfortable enough to share with me.

"WhT about the years after that. Before you met me?" I find myself asking, my tone soft.

"I-I was living on the streets a couple blocks from the bridge... it was sketchy and I had to d-do a lot of things to survive... but it wasn't enough." There was a pause, just long enough for a rattling wheeze to be taken into the broken boy's lungs.

"And I was the last of the Viper gang's hostages..." he cried loudly. "I was just another one of her ransoms that were freed when her gang dispersed."

We're quiet for a long while with the weight of his confession, his cries dispersing slowly with the initial shock of the truth, leaving us with a still and chilling silence.

Silent until I remember the gift I'd gotten for the blonde, thinking that it would be the perfect way to raise my love's spirits after such a traumatic life.

Alright, I'm actually really tired now and not rlly supposed to be writing, so imma keep this short.

Next chapter is fluffy.

Then we get into the spiral of the ending, which you all know I'm ultra excited for!

Anyway, I gotta go.

I feel like you guys have a lot of theories for the upcoming chapters, so feel free to comment them here. I love reading you guy's theories and stuff.

Much luv 🫶

Stay safe