Inferno // dreamnotfound

t h r e e

TW: sexual assault, drugging and alcohol usage, blood (sorry, I know this is only chapter three. I have also put it in brackets were to stop reading if you need).

Dream was getting ready to go stealth-mode that night. He planned to arrive at Luka's an hour before Face-Tat's shift ended so it didn't look suspicious as to him literally walking in and then leaving five minutes later.
He tucked a blade into the side of his boot and put on his black stretchy jeans and a black hoodie. Not his favourite 'hitman' outfit but he was going to a public place after all.

Dream kicked himself for not getting George's number before he left. From now on he just had to keep telling himself it is better just to keep out of other people's lives and better to keep other people out of his life. He didn't want to put anyone in danger, including himself.

When Dream pulled up to the bar again, he debated just waiting in his car and watching him come out and then following him home in the car. But then he got a sudden urge to just go in, just in case George was there. He wasn't sure other than getting his number he would do but even that was enough to get him to go inside.

Sure enough, when Dream sat down, Face-Tat was pouring beers, he had about an hour of his Saturday shift was the same as his Friday one. About five minutes later, George sat proudly down on the same stool as the night before.
"You're here?" Dream was shocked by his apparent future-telling abilities. "Why, is it your birthday again?" He chuckled.
"No, I wanted to see you again, dumbass," said George playfully. "And maybe get your number this time?" He questioned meekly.
Dream was taken aback by how perfectly this all seemed. He absentmindedly pulled out his phone and began typing the number George was reading out to him from memory.
"That is so weird, I only came in just to see if you were here," Clay admitted. "Though it does beg the question, wouldn't you just come to my house to ask for my number?"
George just laughed at that as the realisation of how ridiculous it was to go to a bar and hope someone magically appears when you know where they live.
"Well it worked, didn't it, I have your number," George spoke only of the truth.

If only he had just gone to Dream's house.

George just ordered a cider. "I said to myself, if Clay doesn't turn up I won't have any, but if he does I'll have one to celebrate and then call it a day," he explained. Making them both jump, George's phone buzzed and seriousness was awash his face. "I have to take this," he said solemnly as he got up and hurried outside.

Dream took this time to, number one, check how long he had to wrap things up with George and two, answer the messages sent to him from Wilbur, which he had been putting off. He knew he was a day behind schedule.

Wilbur: so do you have a house address yet?
Delivered 8:03
Wilbur: Dream, you need to tell me how it went last night
Delivered 11:48
Wilbur: come on, man this is important, if there is a problem we need fix let me know.
Delivered 19:26

No messages since. Wilbur never wanted to look too desperate. Dream, drink in-hand, went over to an isolated corner and called Wilbur. He picked up after a few rings.

"Where have you been, I've been texting!" He demanded. "This is a very important client. I know you probably know what you're doing but still, they were very clear about the deadline."
Deadline?
"There's a deadline?" Dream responded in a low but even voice. He could almost feel Wilbur's eyes widening at his question.
"Yes, Monday at midnight. It was written very clearly on the sheet. If you don't meet it we will lose this client and that is a massive issue, Dream," Wilbur said sternly. He could probably not take Dream in a fight but he still had much authority in his voice.
"Okay, well good job I know now. I'll do my best to do it tonight but I didn't get to trail him yesterday," Dream explained.
"Well that is on you, just get the job done, I don't particularly care how or what order you do things in just do it in his house."
Wilbur hung up and Dream just took a sip of his coke and sat back down. When George came back in he seemed happier than when he left so that was a good sign, but Dream was biting his lip and bouncing his leg up and down while he thought about the fact he unprepared to actually kill the bastard tonight.
He plastered on a smile for George and they continued their usual chatter and finished their drinks.

(Ok TW time, if this kind of thing is too much, please skip and stay safe x)

"Wow, I am feeling tired," George observed. "I should probably just go and splash my face or something to wake myself up again. Shit," George got up again and shuffled to the men's room around the corner from where they were sitting, vigorously rubbing his eyes.
Dream shrugged it off but his heart started beating faster for some reason. Maybe because he had fifteen minutes left until the shift ended, but that didn't seem right. Dream was never that nervous for Tasks, and if this went well, he wouldn't even have to draw blood.

George had been gone for too long. Seven minutes was too long to be 'splashing' your face. Dream rose hastily and hurried to the bathroom just to check on George.

⚠️
He was horrified at what he uncovered. The door was locked but he could hear the sobs a mile away. They surrounded him as Dream drew his knife from his boot and jostled the lock until it budged. Fucking old and rusty.
He flung the door open to reveal a sight he could never un-see. George was trembling on the floor, an ugly brute of a man, startled but the sudden noise, standing over him.
At first, Dream was lost but as what was happening processed, his eyes had a fire lit behind them.
(Phew it's over)

"Get the fuck back!" He raged, words dripped with venom and pulled the man by the collar of his shirt with ease. Dream smashed him against the wall and pinned him there with his forearm. It tried to escape, but you didn't escape Dream, especially when he was pissed.
"Listen here, motherfucker," Dream growled in the man's ear, knife still in his other hand. "I'm going to teach you a lesson. And it's fucking stupid of you not to know it already but here we go."
Dream looked him dead in the eye, drew a line with his knife down his length, very slowly, wiped both sides clean on the man's thigh and swiftly replaced it in his boot. He punched in the face and he fell to the floor, just for good measure.

Dream took a second to let the anger subside enough so that he could face George. The aforementioned was helplessly crying into his arm when Dream knelt down next to him. He didn't want to hurt George so he just sat there, biting back tears of his own which he scolded himself for having. Eventually, George began to sit up and latched his arms around Dream.
"George?" He spoke softly but his voice broke as he felt his shivering.

They sat there for some time, in silence, both going over what happened in their minds. The thing at the other end of the room lay still, unconscious.
"We should probably get out of here," George's shaky voice made Dream jump earning a half-smile from him.

Dream's mind suddenly remembered the bartender that was most likely gone. However, even if he was still there now, there was no way he was about to leave George to follow him.

Dream noted George's limp as he helped him out of the bathroom, still very out of it. This time George just asked "Can you please just take me to yours? I need- I need someone." He looked up at Dream with a glossy coat on top of his rich chocolate-brown eyes, a flicker of pain shone through them.

Dream obliged without hesitation. The drive home was strange. Dream was completely tensed at the wheel. His insides were churning with memories of his own and his reaction to what he had just seen. It was anger mixed with helplessness and sadness. He knew that there was little he would be able to do to help George recover, but he made a vow to himself to do whatever he could. He still didn't understand why he was doing what he was, he'd never done anything like this before and this sudden wave of emotions was freaking him out. Maybe it was because he understood and he could see himself in George at that moment, or maybe it was more.

Back at home, Dream was about to leave George and go to the couch but he was stopped. "Can you, uh, stay, please," George's voice was still timid and shaken. "Sure," Dream replied slowly. He got into the bed with him and George instantly grabbed his hand. Completely exhausted, the fell asleep together.

(1580 words) a/n I literally almost shed tears myself writing this so I kept it as implied as I could. I hope anyone reading this was fine x)