The Apocalypse [Dreamnotfound AU]

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Tw: swearing, zombies, blood, weapons, fighting

Dream loses sight of his friends as the zombies swarm around him and George.

"George," he calls, but George is already there, pressing his back against him. A feeling of determination grows inside Dream as he positions himself so that they're back-to-back. The fear in his heart melts away as he remembers the fights in the cafeteria and in the woods. He's always fought better with George at his side.

They push through the zombies, moving together, their weapons slicing through skin and bone. The scent of blood is stifling, the sounds of zombies growling and retching scraping against Dream's ears. But it's the soft press of George against him, the sweet, spiced scent, the sound of his shallow breathing, that ground Dream. He remembers the fear he'd felt when the zombies had almost got George, and he fights harder to protect him.

"They're almost all dead," George calls to him. "Just a few more."

Dream slices at another two and they fall just as another one does with an arrow sticking out of his eye. Suddenly, the hallway goes silent, filled only with the sounds of heavy breathing.

Dream whirls around, grabbing George by the arms to survey him. "Are you okay, George? Are you safe?"

George lets our a breathless laugh. "Chill out, Dream, I'm fine. We won."

Dream feels like his heart was frozen until he heard those words. Now, he can feel it restart in his chest, beating steadily against his ribs. "Well..." he says, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "Technically, I won. I killed more zombies."

George scoffs, like he's in disbelief. "You're so annoying."

"But you love me for it," Dream answers, and George glares at him. But his lips tug up at the corners, and a slight blush spreads across his cheeks. "Admit it," Dream pushes.

"There's nothing to admit," George says, planting a hand on his chest like he's going to push him away. But his hand stays pressed against Dream's chest and neither of them moves as the air between them suddenly grows tense.

George's eyes are wide and dark and as he stares up at him, Dream notices the smallest gleam of worry behind the teasing in them. The worry and the relief crash together in Dream, and he pulls George to him, colliding their lips together.

George melts into him immediately, winding his arms around Dream's neck to pull him closer as Dream's hands go around his waist. The kiss is hard and desperate, fueled by fear and the feelings left over from the battle. When George pulls away, it's to rest his cheek against Dream's chest. Both of them are breathing hard, and George is shaking slightly in Dream's arms. Dream rests his cheek on George's head, breathing in his scent. The relief that washes over him is stronger then even the fear of almost losing him.

He doesn't know how long they stay like that, holding each other. Even though he doesn't ever want to pull away, it's the thought of their friends that wakes him from his daze.

"George," he says softly, and George nods against his chest, even though it takes him a while to actually move. Like he doesn't want the moment to end either.

Eventually, George untangles himself from Dream's arms to grab his crossbow from where he'd dropped it on the floor. "How are we gonna find the others?"

Dream takes a deep breath as he looks out into the silent hallway, littered with blood and bodies. Wherever the others have gone, they've left a trail of zombies behind. "We follow their trail."

George takes one look at the bodies and groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Do we have to?"

"Look at me, George," Dream says quietly and George obviously ignores him. "Look at me," he says again, his voice firmer.