agent 03 // dreamnotfound

-twenty two-

even though dream hated it, the remainder of the walk was completely soundless.

In regards to spoken words, at least. Sticks snapped every so often as nocturnal creatures roamed about, obnoxiously loud as they went about their nights.

They finally arrived on the other side. It was just a brief walk to the gates of Castle Soot, now.

George was astonished. He had never been this far away from home before. "This is it? It looks so... old."

"Wilbur and Niki like restoring aspects of the original castle that belonged to Wilbur's father many years ago. They like the rustic, traditional stuff. Seems your parents went a much more modern route," he motioned for George to follow him as he slipped his mask off.

"No mask?"

"Nope. Grew up here, they know me."

A mighty king emerged from the heavy doors, a lush cloak hanging an inch from the ground as he walked. He looked relieved that the two had arrived safely. Wilbur was very tall, it frightened George.

The king reached his hand out to the prince. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Prince George. I'm sure you've been made aware, but I'm King Wilbur of the Soot Dynasty." George gently took his hand out of instinct.

In the background, a woman could be heard shouting at someone. Very faintly, George could make out the words, "Tommy! Get back here right now!"

Wilbur pretended not to notice.

The infamous Tommy came bounding out of the doors, excited to meet George. "Georgie! I'm a prince too, you know, isn't that cool!? Look, we've got matching crowns!" Tommy beamed as Niki rushed out to gain control of him.

George just stared at the teenager. "Oh, uh. Awesome," he didn't really know how to respond to such an energetic person. He was, though, furious at the fact that this kid was taller than him.

Wilbur led the commotion indoors in fear of attracting too much attention at such a ridiculously late hour.

---

While Wilbur and Niki finished preparing the downstairs room for George, Tommy was sent back upstairs. He was disheartened that he never got to be included in anything. He tried telling them that Dream said Tommy could help, but they wouldn't regard him. They were too busy focusing their attention on George.

Tommy felt as if they treated him like a child most times.

He sat in his room, arms crossed as he awaited a reply from his best friend through their matching set of walkie-talkies.

As soon as his friend Tubbo's voice could be heard through the other side, Tommy started raging his tongue off.

"They don't let me do anything, Big T! There's another prince in this household right now and I'm not even allowed to talk to the bitch!"

Niki, who happened to be passing by Tommy's room at just the right time while gathering necessities for their new guest, yelled "I don't allow that word, Tommy!"

"You don't allow shit, bitch!" Tommy replied, kicking his door shut. "Finally, something interesting happens and I'm told to wait upstairs. Can you believe that, Tubbo!? I can't!"

Tubbo patiently listened. He was always the best at that. That's why Tommy chose him as his best friend, he always listened.

"Tommy, how loud are you being right now?" Tubbo's calm voice asked through the walkie-talkie. That was something he always asked Tommy when the boy was driven up the wall with a strong emotion or a lot of energy. It reminded Tommy to quiet himself and regain his composure.

Tommy took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. "Very. I'm sorry. I'll be quieter."

"Don't be sorry, it's okay, Tommy. Do you feel okay now?"

"Better, at least."

---

It was only Dream and George in the prince's temporary room.

Wilbur and Niki decided they needed some much-needed alone time to sort things out. The tension between them was easily recognizable, though they both chose to deliberately act oblivious to it.

George was sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, his head rested against the bedframe. The room was very comfortable and elegant, it was just slightly dusty due to not being in use for so many years. The housemaids weren't permitted into bloodrooms, so it hadn't seen proper cleaning in a while. Niki did her best to tidy things up before George arrived, though.

The prince looked over to Dream, who was leaning against the wall, studying the mask in his hands. "So this isn't some kind of... set-up?"

Dream was disappointed that the thought even crossed George's mind.

"Of course not, George. We're gonna protect you. I care about you, George. A lot. Why would I set you up?"

George went quiet again. The silence was unbearably loud. It was so overpowering, Dream couldn't deal with it anymore. He walked over to sit next to George. He couldn't take the tension anymore, he wanted George to enjoy his presence again, and he wanted to enjoy George's without feeling like he was going to say something wrong.

"Listen, George-"

"This again? Dream, I don't want to listen to your sappy apology over and over!"

Dream bit his tongue to stop himself from arguing back. That wouldn't help either of them. He just didn't understand why George wouldn't even attempt to try to understand. He wrapped his arms around George, pulling him into a cautious half-hug. "...I just wanted to say once more that I'm sorry. I am."

Without warning, Tommy turned the handle and swung open the door without as much as a knock. He stared for a split second and promptly swung on his heel to leave again, the door shutting behind him, eyes wide. From behind the closed wooden door, he said, "Niki told me to tell you that there are snacks upstairs if you want some and also goodnight, I think."

"Thanks, Tommy. Go to bed, it's two in the morning," Dream laughed, looking back towards George.

Maybe they needed the lighthearted moment, because George surprisingly returned the embrace. "Okay, Dream. Here's the deal. You are not in any way forgiven yet, nor do I believe I will ever forgive you. But I'll tolerate you. I still like you, Dream. I just don't like what you had to do. I'm sorry I acted as I did, it wasn't your fault."

Dream smiled widely, instantaneously forgetting about Tommy's entrance just moments ago. "Thank you, George. I was so terrified you hated me," he said softly, almost mournfully, "I still like you too, but I don't think that matters."

"Why wouldn't it matter?"

The two stared at one another while Dream contemplated saying what he certainly wanted to say. "Because... you don't like me the way... that I like you." He couldn't believe he actually did it.

Dream's heart raced faster than it ever had before.

"...What?"

"I'm sorry. Very bad timing." Dream looked away, his face comparable to the roses in the vase on the bedside table.

George's eyes sparkled as he forced himself not to jump up and around the entire bedroom. "Dream, what do you mean by that?" He wanted to make sure Dream had truly meant what he said.

"Nothing. I'm sorry."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."