It Was Never the End DreamNotFound

Chapter 3

George POV

"You call that a cave?" George glared at a small opening in the ravine wall. 

George could swear Dream rolled his eyes at him as the taller man replied, "Of course not." 

Before George could retort, Dream dropped to his knees and crawled into the hole, vanishing. George was startled. While Dream was on the lean side of muscular, he was still tall and quite large, and he'd just disappeared entirely. He'd even dragged his giant battle ax in with him.

"Are you coming?" Dream's teasing voice echoed from the opening. 

George crouched down, examining the entrance. As he was hesitating a light lit up the hole, revealing that it was actually a tunnel. Still feeling cautious, he slowly lowered himself to the ground and began to inch forward. There was a good amount of space around his shoulders so he didn't feel too claustrophobic. Embarrassingly, he fit a lot easier than Dream, who had looked rather cramped when he crawled through.

George could see a pair of black-and-green boots shifting impatiently as the area opened into a roomy cave. Poking his head out of the tunnel, he gazed up at Dream, who was practically radiating smugness. 

As soon as George's body emerged from the rocky tunnel, Dream grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet. 

George had to admit it. The cave was big, and currently lit by a flashlight placed on the middle of the ground. The stone walls were smooth, and the ceiling looked sturdy. It was a good cave, not that George was going to tell Dream that. 

Only problem was said man's ego wasn't going to let it slide as he clapped his hands together eagerly. "Well? What did I say? Tell me I did good."

"No," George sighed. "Why would I tell you that if you were going to stay here anyways? You said it yourself, you already had this cave picked out."

"Geeeeooorrgggeeee," Dream whined. "Tell me I did good!" 

"No." Ignoring his never-ending need for attention, George turned his focus to the large green backpack on the ground that he hadn't noticed before. Walking over to the pack, he was just reaching for the zipper when Dream finally seemed to realize he wasn't going to get his praise. 

"So you're robbing me now?" Dream teased. 

George's face flushed and he didn't reply. 

Dream sauntered over and quickly unzipped the bag to reveal a blanket, food, a lot of different shaped knives, and spare clothes. He tilted his head at George and said, "Are you hungry?" 

George's stomach growled, but he hesitated. "What if you poisoned it?" 

The eye roll came back. "Yes, because I keep poisoned food on me just for annoying pretty boys with trust issues." 

"You-" George stuttered, "I don't know you. Who trusts a person they just met? A person who won't even show their face! What the hell is the mask about anyways?" 

Dream seemed to flinch, taking a step back. He was silent for a second, and then a second turned into a minute. Until the silence seemed to stretch for hours. 

I don't know why, George swallowed, but I feel like I just said something I really shouldn't have . 

"I..." Dream's voice startled George out of his thoughts. "Am not ready for anyone to see my face. I'm sorry."

George stared at the abnormally quiet man. He'd never seen Dream hesitant or... hurt. He'd been quite obnoxiously upbeat and flirty since they'd met just a few hours ago. Now, is voice held a tiny bit of vulnerability, so small George wasn't sure if he was imagining it. 

He let his gaze fall to the bag in Dream's arms. Clearing his throat, he mumbled, "I could eat." 

Silently, Dream handed him a piece of dried meat, an apple, and a canteen of water. He seemed to study George for a moment before softly joking, "I'm afraid I don't have any tea, British idiot." 

"I've never liked tea. My parents were so disappointed in me they decided to move to America." George was so relieved to have the teasing Dream back that he went along with it.

Dream wheezed, reminding George once again of an overboiling tea kettle. It was a few good moments before the Dream stopped laughing. Settling onto the ground with a meal identical to George's, he angled his body so his back was facing George. 

George kept his eyes fixed on his own food as Dream tilted his mask slightly and began to eat. 

The cave was quiet, but comfortable. Eventually they'd finished eating, and Dream walked over to the tunnel. George watched as he pushed one of the small boulders scattered at the edge of the cave over to block the hole. 

"Just to prevent anything from coming in." Dream explained when he caught George staring. 

George nodded, but his stomach had begun to slosh uneasily as Dream pulled a blanket from his backpack. He suddenly realized he was about to sleep, trapped, with a stranger in a cave. A stranger who thought Wicked Cats were weak. 

"Um... Dream..." George couldn't find the right words to explain his unease when Dream seemed to guess. 

"Don't worry, I'm not going to murder you in your sleep." He handed George the blanket, and dropped his backpack in the middle of the room. He placed his battle ax against the backpack and stepped back. "See? I am unarmed now." 

George could hear the smile in Dream's voice and found himself smiling back. Walking to a less bumpy portion of the ground, he laid down before noticing something. 

"Dream?"

"Yeah?" 

"Is this your only blanket?"

"Don't worry about it." Dream picked up the flashlight and went to the other side of the backpack before switching it off. In the now pitch-black darkness, George could hear the soft scuffling sound of Dream settling down. "We can search for another one tomorrow in an abandoned house or something. Maybe find you some spare clothes, too." 

Some of the knots in George's stomach unraveled. He still didn't trust Dream, but he felt the man wouldn't hurt him or murder him in his sleep. After all, Dream wouldn't have saved him if he'd planned to kill him. Tucking an arm under his head, he let his eyes drift shut. 

He'd need the sleep for the hell he had no idea was about to unfold before him tomorrow....