tonight | dnf

chapter sixteen.

George like many others were struggling to cope with Dreams death.

It'd only been a week but it felt like the day of his death was on repeat, the pain. The realization.

He hadn't been doing much that wasn't sleeping, crying, and reminiscing about Dream. He couldn't, it was too hard. It felt like a hard punch to gut every time he remembered he was gone for good. George had found he liked when he was asleep more--it was like it was a get away from reality because in his dreams, Dream was still there. Still alive.

He laid in bed, just thinking about the things they'd never get to do for the first time or again.

They'd never be able to go get ice cream and laugh at the worker who'd ask if they were dating, they'd never be able to sit at the top of the ferris wheel and kiss like all the couples in movies, they'd never get to stargaze at 3am in a field again. 

George would never get to see him again. There were photos and videos, but those would never compare. He'd never get to see the way Dream would run up to stray kittens to pet them and gain their trust. He'd never get to smell the way his cologne lingered on the stupid jacket George refused to take off. He'd never get to feel the warmth between them when they'd cuddle under the blankets. He'd never get to taste his lips against his own and he'd surely never get to hear the his more gentle laugh when George would say something that wasn't even remotely funny. 

It felt like the world had given Dream to George just to wrap its claws around him and steal him back.

He shifted in bed around the articles that had been dropped off to him--all about the horrible car accident. The only thing he'd been doing besides sleeping and crying was reading those damned articles. He couldn't help but blame himself. Maybe if he had just stopped being petty and let Dream explain himself he wouldn't have gotten in that car--he would've ordered an uber like he said he would. 

He'd be here to hold George, to let him know how loved he was. George, now more than ever, regretted so much. He regretted not calling him back. He regretted not saying "I love you" sooner. He regretted not saying everything he'd been meaning to. He regretted not making it official between them because what really hurt was the fact that George never had the chance to call him his boyfriend. 

He long train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door, he didn't bother to look up at who it was. It was Sapnap, he knew. There was no one else who'd checked up on him this last week, he felt bad because he wasn't doing the best at checking up on Sapnap too, who had also lost Dream. 

"Hey George..I uh, I went to pick up Dreams stuff with my moms car, theres a few boxes in the living room. I just wanted to talk to you." He took a seat on the edge of the bed.

George sat up from where he laid and pushed the hair from his face, the hair that still had a blue strip in it from when him and Dream had dyed it together. "Mhm, yeah we can talk." His voice was raw from crying, but so was Sapnaps who had to wipe his tears before continuing. 

"You can't keep isolating yourself like this, its not going to help. I know it hurts but you look like fucking shit, you need to get out of bed." He didn't mean to come off so harsh but someone had to say it. The only reason why he had gotten out of bed and out of the state George was in was because his friend pushed him to, George needed that friend. Especially right now. 

"Jesus Sapnap, I'm dealing with it. I'm fine, are you?"

"You're obviously not, and no. Not exactly but I'm working on it. I know its hard, but--" He stopped himself to take a few deep breaths, probably so he didn't start crying again, "but grief is a price we pay for love, okay? He wouldn't want you to be like..like this. No one expects you to get over it right away, hell I'm surprised I was even able to leave the house, but you have to try."

"What I need is for you to stop telling me what I need to do. Go like, do whatever shit you're doing to get over it, I'm fine the way I am." 

Sapnap got up off the bed. He wasn't going to shout at George, it wouldn't do any good. He understood more than anybody what George was feeling right now. He walked over to the other side of the bed and picked up one of the several articles, looking at all of them he knew what was going on. 

"George?"

"What?"

"You know this isn't your fault, right?"

George nodded because he knew if he actually spoke he'd start crying again. Which seemed to be getting harder, maybe he was running out of tears, or he was just dehydrated. Either or. 

Sapnap sighed as he rubbed his temples. As he left the room, he noticed how messy it had gotten. It wasn't like George, but then again he wasn't like George. He picked up a few stray thing like clothes, crumbled up photos, thrown around shoes. He only intended to tidy up a bit to make it easier for George when he got out of bed, but he found cleaning was a good distraction for him, focusing on something different. Room after room he cleaned up until he saw a mostly empty bowl of cat food. He frowned at it. Sapnap begun to search in cupboards until he found a bag of cat food, and a few cans of wet food. 

He knelt down besides the dishes and came running up to him was Cat, meowing as she rubbed her head against his leg.  

The second the food was poured and the can was opened she wasted no time to eat. She wasn't starving as she had food still in her dish, she was most likely just excited for fresh food. 

"Alright Cat, there you go." Sapnap left after giving her one more scratch behind her ear. He figured he'd clean up the living room a bit before heading home. 

The room wasn't too messy, but as Sapnap walked around, something caught his eye on the coffee table.  He made his way over to the couch, letting the cushions sink under his weight. From the table he picked up a polaroid--one that was fairly old and wrinkled. He took a long glance at the photo. He hadn't seen it in ages, it was all three of them. The iconic trio. As he looked at the ruined picture, he realized it was never going to be the same. Dream was the glue of their friendship--the person who originally brought them together, who made George and Sapnap get along after they were hesitant. It was crazy how in the beginning George and Sapnap hated each other, and here they were now grieving together.

Tears dropped onto the photo in his hand and he didn't even realize he was crying again until he felt an arm around him and a head on his shoulder. 

"Its okay, we'll get through it together." 

"Yeah, we will."