bullet holes ⊰⊹ dnf mafia au

part 27 ⊰⊹

!blood! violence! death!

dream woke up confused. 

confused was a feeling he'd gotten quite accustomed to the past few days. a large majority of it was to blame on the sheer speed his life had suddenly taken after a few years of slow movement.

and he was not prepared for it in the slightest. 

he rubbed his eyes groggily, wincing when he felt a sharp pain on the back of his head. he groaned, trying to stretch out his numb limbs.

where the fuck was he?

he blinked rapidly, sitting up with a small groan. he took a deep breath, trying to gather his bearings. he ruffled his hair and opened his eyes one final time. this was giving him major deja vu. it was like waking up in that hospital room all over again, lost and in a lot of pain.

except this time, instead of a bright light shining over his head, he was greeted by the musky smell of rotting alcohol and a dark damp ceiling.

finally, he noticed the figure beside him. 

george.

the brit sat there, knees tucked under his chin, head facing away from dream. he was rocking back and forth slightly, a piece of paper clutched tightly in his hands. dream furrowed his eyebrows, what was that? he hadn't noticed it before.

"george?" he asked quietly, so as to not startle the brunet.

the brit's head swivelled, facing dream with slightly bloodshot eyes. his grip on the paper tightened, crushing it in his palm.

"what—what happened? i can't fucking remember this is so weird."

george looked away, gritting his teeth.

"they knocked you out and took the kids. i don't know where that friend of yours disappeared to but i couldn't take them both on myself. and now we're locked in here with no way out while my brother might be getting killed at this very moment. all caught up?" george was very harsh with his words. he didn't sugar coat anything. because why should he? they failed to do the one thing they'd come here to do. and not only that, he just found out that his biggest trauma was a fucking lie in the worst way possible.

through a measly letter.

with a few lousy apologies thrown in there, courtesy of quackity.

the mexican was smart to leave. because right now, george was very capable and willing, to murder him.

he wasn't able to process all this information right now. how the fuck was he supposed to digest this with everything else going on?

he simply couldn't. he didn't.

instead, he decided to take out his anger at the world on the only other person with him.

"w-what?" dream's voice broke. 

"yeah congratulations dream, we failed. would you like a medal?"

the blond stared blankly, unable to form a response. his mind was going million miles an hour, thinking of all the different ways he could do something.

come on come on, surely this wasn't the end. they'd come this far. surely there could be something else right?  yeah of course there was. dream just had to think hard enough.

come on clay, think of something. just think damn it.

but his mind was doing the exact opposite now. he came up blank, unable to focus on anything as anxiety grew in his chest. his heart thumped loudly in his ears, his breathing getting more erratic.