Flame. (Dreamnotfound)

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George sighed. He hadn't uttered a word to Clay for almost seventy-two hours. The nightmares came back but this time, they were much worse.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" The brunette yelled, tears streaming down his face as he pulled away from Clay's grasp. He ran into the ocean, immediately jumping in.

Clay was right behind him, the taller boy showing no emotion as George ran for his life. Eventually, his muscles gave out, surrendering his body to the empty shell he called a boyfriend.

George closed his eyes for just a moment, the two appearing back on the beach. The tears hadn't stopped falling from his eyes and Clay wasn't acting like himself.

The sign on the beach had changed, no longer saying Florida but instead, 'Sober.'

The brunette's eyes widened, he shook his head softly. His eyes trailed to Clay's. He knew exactly what he had to do to stop the nightmares.

He shot Clay a smile just as a blade appeared in the taller boy's hand, being pushed deep into George's chest.

The british boy woke up shaking, his breathing heavy. Clay flipped over, clearly worried.

"What's wrong baby?" George shook his head, standing up.

"Clay I can't do this anymore." The green eyed boy was suddenly very alert. "I can't keep putting myself under this stress and frankly, I don't want to just stand by and watch as you kill yourself.

"You have two options, Clay. Either you get professional help, and we can go back to normal, or I leave. I'm tired of letting you treat yourself this way... you arent just killing yourself. You're killing me, too." And with that, George carried himself to the car. He never planned on driving anywhere, but he knew he couldn't be in the same house as Clay right now.

He looked into the sky, the stars shining brightly through his tears. He laughed pitifully at his situation. The boy never would have been able to predict this event in his life.

George stayed in the car for three hours, long enough for the sun to be fully in the sky now. He wiped his tears, shamefully walking back into the house.

Clay was sat at the kitchen table, speaking on the phone. George tilted his head in confusion, sitting on the couch.

"Yeah. For about a month. Before that I had urges but didn't ever give in to them." George listened to Clay's words, only able to hear a fraction of the conversation.

"That would be best I think." The taller boy said, fiddling with the sleeve on his sweatshirt. "Okay yeah, I'll be there. Thank you." He hung up, his face clearly drained of all emotion.

"What was that about?" George asked, walking over to hug Clay who seemed sober. The british boy felt Dream shake, confirming that he was, in fact, sober and going through withdrawls. Again.

"I'm getting help." Clay replied simply, a smile forming on George's face. "I'll be in detox at the hospital for two weeks or so." George's smile immediately dropped, remembering how difficult detox is.

"R-really? Detox is..." Clay cut him off, seemingly knowing what he was doing.

"Bad. I know." The taller boy nodded, looking George in the eyes now. "But if I can avoid a six month rehab program then I'm doing it. I'd die if I was away from you for that long." Clay continued.

"You told me I would quit if I loved you. And trust me, George, I love you more than anything on this earth. But it isn't as simple as 'just quitting.' Addiction stems much further than that." George nodded, listening carefully.

"I'll probably still have urges after detox. And I need you to do whatever it takes to stop me from drinking. Whether that means taking my keys, my wallet, my phone or tying me to a door and not letting me leave. Whatever it takes, George." The brunette nodded again, Clay smiling weakly.

"I'm being admitted tomorrow morning. I'm not sure of visitor hours yet but I'm sure they'll tell you all the information you need to know. Alright, baby?" Clay sighed, clearly nervous.

George leaned up, placing a soft kiss on Clay's mouth. Something he hadn't done in weeks.

"I let you down." George said suddenly, realizing what Dream told him not that long ago.

"What do you mean, baby?" Clay asked. George looked Dream up and down, the taller man had messy hair and bags underneath his eyes. He looked like he could break at any moment.

"You told me to pull you out of it before it got bad and I- I didn't even try. You could have died..." George said, tears welling in his eyes for the second time that day.

"Oh, god! You could have died!" He sobbed, falling into Clay's arms. The two sat there, the only noise being the soft sobs that occasionally left George's mouth.

Once the brunette had calmed down, Clay spoke up once again.

"You didnt let me down, George. You pulled me out of it. Maybe a bit later than either of us would have liked. But you pulled me out of it." Clay said, meaning each and every word he said.

"And even better," The tall boy paused.

"I'm not dead."

[A/N: Next chapter is gonna be so... scary. I'm having so much fun writing this and I desperately dont want it to end. Dont worry I dont plan on ending it yet, but it will have to end eventually... and I am not prepared.]