Ends of the Earth [DNF]

Chapter 31: Why fight natural order?

It was as if George had woken up from a coma. He realized that he was in the middle of the forest and recognized the surrounding to be the same as the one that he'd previously traveled through.

How he'd gotten there was rather blurry, but a very clear image had made its way to his mind and slowly broken down the mental walls that he'd fought so long to build. The intrusive images became clearer and clearer, it hit him that he was once again presented with someone's dreams, at not just anyone. The green-eyed blonde guy was leaning against a tree, seemingly asleep, but was anxiously moving around.

Everything felt so familiar, yet so foreign. George took a few moments to admire the blonde. Did Dream save him? It would be the only reasonable explanation. But why? George carefully made his way over to the sleeping figure. Bits and pieces from his dreams interfered with George's thoughts. He sat himself in front of Dream and carefully lifted his hands to the other's face. The touch alone sent shivers down George's body. He had missed Dream, so much. Call him gullible but George refused to believe that the guy in front of him was a bad person. Sure, they'd been separated on bad terms but why would Dream go through all the trouble to save him if he was a bad person?

George placed his hands on the others face and did the same thing as he'd done once before, breaking the horrible nightmare. He recalled a fond memory and projected it. The blonde stopped twisting which gave George an answer regarding its efficiency. Green eyes flung open and was now staring at him.

"George...?" The words hinted of an uncertainty but were also filled with emotion. Just one word was enough to break the last seal that had been put around George's heart and mind.

Though, the situation suddenly changed when George felt himself being knocked to the ground. Everything became blurry and that's the state he remained in for a good while. Voices could be heard but George was only able to distinguish one sentence; "Hello, son."

Dream's dad? Fuck. George didn't know much about the man, but he knew for a fact that Dream didn't like him. Shouting and loud noises continued for a good while. George brain wad still trying to recollect itself, which made it difficult to distinguish what was happening.

Worry was setting in his stomach. There's no way someone would kill their own child, right? Although, based on the sounds, it seemed to be the wrong conclusion. Horror overtook his body. He knew that he was outnumbered and forced himself to focus on the long-game instead of acting on impulse.

His best chance of saving Dream would be to not act on feelings. It would show itself to be more difficult than he thought. Despite the pounding headache, George tried to get some hint of what Dream was feeling. What he managed to snap up was to his surprise, calmness. However, the surprise switched to panic when it hit him that the calmness was the blonde's way embracing death.

It took everything ounce of his willpower to not get up and interfere. But the chances were that any sudden movements would result in the men killing Dream quicker. Time continued to pass by but no loud noises or voices were heard for a long while.

That was until someone shouted. "404, get here." 404? It sounded familiar and George finally recalled that it was what he was referred to in the bunker. It took a lot of energy to get up and even more energy not to freak out when he saw Dream. Blood was gushing from a horizontal cut on his torso. He could sense that the blonde was still alive, but weaker than George would've hoped for.

George made his way over to the men that had called for him. Horror set in when he realized that one of the men were the same as the one that had called him a worthless animal.

One of the other men spoke "Should we handcuff the hostage, sir?"

The man with the cold eyes looked George up and down before answering. "No, that won't be necessary. There's no will left in this one." Indicating towards George.

"What about your son, sir? Isn't it risky leaving him alive?"

Of course, this sadist would have be Dream's dad. Wonderful.

"Let Clay bleed out, it shouldn't take too long, but long enough for some suffering." 

So much information was unraveled at once. But one detail stuck out a bit extra. Clay would bleed out? Dream's real name was Clay? Why would he hide that? But he didn't give himself much time to dwell. They were going to let him bleed to death and most likely bring George back to the bunker.

Untamable rage struck him. Humans were worse than other living thing. Maybe Dream's dad had been right, maybe George wasn't better than an animal. Because in that moment it was decided. These men were dying at his hands. Not an ounce of remorse crossed his mind. If Dream was dying, so was them, even if George died in the process.

His eyes spotted two specific plants and a plan started to form. He would've to keep the facade that their mind games still messed with his brain. The time was the most crucial part. The sun was rising which was fortunate because it played an important part in his plan. He needed those plants, it would be painful for both parts but the pain would mostly serve as a distraction. The main part wouldn't pleasant either, but only for one of them.