wasteland - dreamnotfound

Chapter Ten

~|George|~ 

I kick at the old dresser, not bothering to check it. I know very well there isn't anything there, as Sapnap and I had gotten all the useful resources from it when we'd stayed here, in the cottage, previously.

A sharp sense of nostalgia pierces me as I recall living here with Sapnap, nearly careless. Now, being with the famous group, things are confusing and slightly scary, even. 

Technoblade had given me an assignment, to go on a patrol to make sure there weren't any zombies around, or people, and to check for any valuables and resources. Of course, save for a lousy monster kill, I knew I'd return to the group supervisor, Wilbur, empty handed. 

We were also searching for the target. 

I wonder where he could be. 

I snicker softly to myself at the sarcastic thought, opening and closing an empty drawer with my dagger absentmindedly as I listen to the soft thump it makes as wood hits against wood.

My mind begins to wander as the rhythmic sound lulls me. 

~||~ 

"We made it!" He'd yelled to the darkening sky. I'd giggled, shoving him lightly. He'd grinned, and then we were both yelling to the stars, celebrating the completion of junior high.

Even with the fights, the pain, the fear, I'd survived, and I still had my best friend with me. 

"Look at the fireflies, Clay." I'd said suddenly, relishing in the cool summer breeze on the warm dusk air. 

He'd blinked, his beautiful yellow, or green, eyes gazing around at the bugs that glowed as they lingered around. "They're like stars." He'd whispered, eyes wide. He turned back to me with a small smile, holding out his hand with his palm up. 

"Let's catch stars together, then." I'd replied quietly, taking his hand and intertwining our fingers.

~||~ 

I shut the drawer one last time, figuring any more time in here would become suspicious. I slide through the open door, not bothering to close it behind me. 

When I walk into the the main room, though, Tommy, Tubbo and Wilbur are nowhere to be found. I exhale softly, leaving the cottage by the backdoor and looking around. 

I hear voices, and in barely a heartbeat my arrow is prepared to fire, my muscles tense and prepared to run. The late morning sun is beginning to warm up significantly, and I can tell it's going to be a disgustingly dry and warm day. 

I move forward again, slower this time. I can nearly hear my heartbeat in my ears, drowning out the sound of voices I try to focus onto. I cross the mess of a street behind the cottage, only to freeze in place. 

In front of me, are Tommy, Tubbo and Wilbur themselves, having apparently been arguing about something, which explains the voices. Now, though, they have fallen silent, each sporting suspiciously guilty looks on their faces.

"Uh-" 

~||~ 

"Wait, wait, wait, what? Start again, I'm lost." 

"Oh my god, George, listen!"  Tommy sighs in dramatic exasperation, leaning back in his chair. Tubbo fidgets with his hands on top of the table, continuously swapping from sitting up or relaxing in his chair. 

Wilbur exhales nervously, running his hand through his hair. "I know, it's complicated." He mutters, crossing his arms and ignoring Tommy.

We all sit around a table in the cottage, the tension in the air painfully obvious. I felt like a hostage, yet I had the ability to get up and leave at any moment.