𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 // 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

Collateral Blood

-Collateral Blood-

TW: This is one of the last trigger warnings I'm putting before my chapters. As I prefaced many times, my work contains mentions of self harm, panic, angst, and many other potential triggers. Please only continue if you are comfortable reading that content. Self harm and panic are the biggest triggers this chapter. Please do not read if you aren't comfortable. I love you all <33 If you're reading this chapter, I know it's hard, but please try to enjoy ;)

"George, I'll order in groceries again." I said absently, scrolling through the delivery app on my phone, adding some items to my cart.

I would usually go to the store, but both George and I were acutely aware that I couldn't. George nodded, and I could see that though his physical form was right beside me, his mind was far, far, away. He wasn't there with me, and to be honest, he was never fully there with me ever since the breakup. Always near, but not really.

"I-, never mind." George said quietly, hastily cutting himself off and clearing his throat. I raised an eyebrow and turned to him, taking my eyes off my phone screen for a second.

"What's wrong?" I asked gently, tilting my head slightly.

"I've just been doing nothing for two weeks, whilst you've been stuck helping me." He sighed. I was quiet as he continued on.

"It's just that, well- Dream, I'm so sorry for being such a, burden on you. I know I've been annoying and difficult and useless. I'm sorry." George said listlessly, idly stirring a bowl of cereal with his spoon and gazing down into the bowl with a dull expression. I set down my phone and looked to George, setting my hand on his shoulder.

"Don't apologize. I'm more than happy to help." I tried to offer assurance, but honestly, nothing could really pierce through the sullen haze of depression that emanated from George. He let out a heavy sigh and continued lifelessly stirring his cereal, with the same look on his face.

"But I feel so bad for being so needy." He said in a hollow tone, but with an undertone of admittance. George truly believed what he was saying about himself. I could see the tears start to form in his eyes.

"No, George, I-" I started.

"I fucking hate myself so, so much. Why do I have to be so weak, so emotionally fragile, so easily breakable? Nobody should feel this depressed after a breakup. Nobody is ever this heartbroken. I'm a freak, an anomaly. I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate everything. I'm helpless." George shut his eyes, drawing a deep but slightly shaky breath. Sadly, I could tell he meant those words. They were the truth, and nothing but the truth to him.

"George, don't-"

"Dream, just admit it. I know you have a loud mental voice that screams out that you're a begrudging crutch for your weak, helpless little friend, who shouldn't be this depressed. I know you are too afraid to voice what you truly think of me, of this situation. Admit it. I'm pathetic." His voice broke. I was silent. Not because I agreed, because I couldn't think of what to say in response. A few silent seconds hung in the air.

"Say it, Dream. I know you want to." George said quietly, his voice sad and flat. I remained silent again.

"No, George, I won't say something that's not true. You are not pathetic." I finally said, trying to assure and comfort him. George sighed and shook his head slowly, setting his spoon down on the table. He got up from his chair and paused before walking out of the kitchen and to his bedroom door.

"Tell me the truth." He said, nearly too quiet for me to hear. I gritted my teeth and exhaled, arranging words in my head. My efforts were wasted by a swell of concern and desperation.