Case 404

[ Something That's True ]

---

The next few days were uneventful but terrifying.

George had no idea when or how he would be killed, but he knew it was coming. And he knew it was soon.  He wasn't prepared to have his life taken from him, not yet.

Dream must have been busy. Maybe he was avoiding him. It would be too hard to see his best friend days before he had to kill him.

There was another agent that brought George food and let him go to the bathroom a few times a day. He didn't ask for the agent's name or even spoke to him. His voice was deemed useless, there was no reason for it. Nothing he could say could get him out of this situation.

He was alone ninety percent of the time. Alone with himself, and his thoughts. And with the current situation he was in, he had a lot to think about.

Something that's true: He used to be in love with Clay.

Something that's not true: He isn't anymore.

George knew he loved Clay a few months before his disappearance. He didn't look at girls the way other boys did. He wouldn't know anyway, he was always focused purely on Clay, and him only.  It was always him. He noticed everything.

The way his eyes turned a lighter shade in the sun. The way his hair brushed against his face while he was running. His smile was safe and kind. He was completely infatuated with every part of him. He was always persistent with his goals, which made George think back to a memory when they were fourteen.

---

"Clay! I give up! You win." George rolled his eyes out of pure exhaustion.

The two had been training at their secret spot for hours on end.

"Come on, Georgie! I need more practice!" Clay said.

"You're good at this, okay? You'll make it into the leagues."

Clay took off his chest plate and put his sword on the ground. "Whenever I become a knight, I get to pick a name. What are we thinking for it?"

George walked to a long tree stump and sat on it. "I don't know, they're supposed to have a meaning behind them or something?"

Clay sat beside him. "I would have to be called it every day. It needs to be short and catchy. Maybe something that you can remember easily?"

The two thought for a few minutes, George hadn't thought of anything good yet. He was never good at things like this, answering on the spot and all.

Clay spoke up. "Dream."

George furrowed his brow and turned to him. "Why Dream?"

"They're powerful. It's like a different dimension, different lifetime."

"What do you mean?" George wasn't following, but interested.

"Think about it. Your mind functions even though your body doesn't. It creates this entirely new world when you're sleeping. Your mind never stops moving. That's what I want to be known for."

"What? Sleeping?"

"No, George. Always moving, always thinking."

"I like it. Dream it is."

The two smiled.

"Alright! Back to training, George." Clay stood up and put his armor back up.

"Whatever, Dream!"

---

Present time

George smiled and closed his eyes. Dream. That's why it was so familiar. It was true, he was always thinking. He was thinking when he told George to call him Dream when he was captured. Did he want me to know it was him? Put the pieces together? What kind of cryptic shit was this? George thought.

That's why he loves Clay.

Scratch that.

Loved.

He wasn't Clay anymore. He was a completely different person. His sweet smile wasn't there, it was filled with pain. Anyone with half of a brain could see that. He was hurting.

And he deserves to hurt. George thought. He could've seen me. He could've written to me. He let me think that he was dead. Why?

The door knob moved.

Right on time. He always was.

Dream walked into the room with bandages and alcohol wipes. He had his mask on.

George sat up immediately.

Something that's true: He was scared of Dream.

Something that's not true: He wasn't happy to see him again.

Dream pulled a chair to George's bed and released the arm from the chains that he had cut a few days ago.

He unwrapped the current bandage and examined it. "It's healing well."

George didn't speak.

Dream looked up. "Am I getting the silent treatment?"

"You don't like what I have to say.", George responded.

"That doesn't mean you can't talk."

"No, it just means you would hurt me if you wanted me to stop. I don't want to be in pain anymore. Everything hurts."

George's pain was visible. He had lost a lot more weight than what he had before he was captured. Going from gourmet meals three times a day to stale bread and water every two days was a drastic change. His under eyes were tinted light shades of red and purple. It was clear he hasn't been getting enough sleep. Who would?

Dream didn't respond. He dabbed George's cut with the pad carefully. George winced.

"A1?"  George spoke up.

"Yes?"

"What day is it?"

"It's Wednesday."

"I've been here for a week?" The realization had hit him now. He guessed that time had a funny way of working in here. No clock, no sunlight. All the days had looped and faded into each other. He could've sworn he's been here for just a few days.

The other captured children were sent back dead only about three weeks later. He noted that. Two more weeks to save himself. He could do this.

"Correct."

"What time is it?"

"Around 11 P.M. Everyone's out on a team job, that's the only reason I'm here." Dream started wrapping a new bandage.

"Who's the other agent that's been with me?"

"Oh, that's Punz. Agent B29."

"Why has he been here? I thought I was your case?"

"I had other jobs."

"...Did you complete them?" George swallowed.

"Of course I did."

"Does it hurt you?" George looked down.

"What do you mean?" Dream put the bloody bandage and wipes in the trash.

"You see them die..you take away the life in their eyes. How does that not hurt you?"

"The hurt fades after a while. In my first dozen cases, I would flinch when I took the final blow at them. I would wait with them while they passed, holding their hand and just talking to them. Some even asked me to pray with them. I wouldn't stop shaking until a few days later."

George's heart dropped. He hated being an empath and hated that he felt sorry that Dream had to live this life.  "What changed?"

"The hurt stops when you make it stop. You're in control of everything you feel. It stops when you realize what the people have done to put them in the situation they are in. Having a hitman put on them and such."

George looked up to him. "What did I do to deserve it?"

"Nothing, that's how I know the hurt will come back." Dream stood up and began to walk out of the room.

"Wait.", George blurted out.

Dream didn't turn around, he just slowly stopped.

"Can you stay, please?"