What I Meant By Forever

Knife Tricks

The boys decided to focus on the work later, instead watching a film to take their minds off it. Every so often, Dream would glance into the corner, but George didn't mind putting his arm around him or holding his hand to keep him calm.

A few weeks later, Dream hadn't brought up the dead man in a while, but from the way he acted George knew he was still there.
"Is he here more often when you're with me?" George asked. Dream nodded.
"They're all here, all three. I don't mind though, as long as I'm with you I'm calm. It's when I'm alone that they scare me the most," he replied.
"All three?" George said, "where are they?"
Dream just shook his head and they stopped talking about it.

The day the project was due, George had to present alone. The presentation itself was cool, but George's heart wasn't in it. They got a B+. He felt utterly hopeless that day- he had gotten used to Dream's company. He sent him a text to check if he was ok when he got out of his school, to which Dream responded with a phone call. George picked up on the first ring.
"Dream?" he answered.
"Oh, God, George, can I come over?" Dream replied, his voice hoarse and a little deeper than usual.
"Of course, I'll be home in ten minutes so any time after that," George agreed.

Dream was at the door mere minutes after George got in.
"They're after me, George," he insisted, gripping the brunettes shoulders tightly, his eyes wild and his hair a mess.
"Who?"
"Me. I'm after myself, isn't that mad? They keep saying that I'm going to die, because they all died in your arms and surely I will too. Tell me I won't die in your arms, George, promise me you won't let me die," he sobbed.
"I won't! I promise, Dream, you're gonna be okay," George promised, his hands on Dream's arms. Dream slowly began to calm down, his breathing slowing a little.
"Ok."

They went back up to George's room and the blond explained that the reason he hadn't been in was because he'd had a panic attack and that his parents had been fighting all day again. The Brit listened to him, staying quiet and only talking to reassure him and calm him down if he got too worked up.

"If you can't go home, you can always stay here," Ms Davidson told him once she heard about his parents, "some of Mr Davidson's old things are still here somewhere for you to wear tomorrow, should you need them."
Dream thanked her and sent a message to his own mother, letting her know that he was staying at a friends to work on a project- just another lie for him to remember he'd told her.

When George went to sleep, Dream was on a mattress on the floor next to him. When he woke up at around midnight, the mattress was empty and the door was open. George crept downstairs to look for the American, finding him in the kitchen.
"Dream?" he whispered. He was ignored, however, and Dream was holding a knife. He began to raise it, slowly to his wrist, but George yanked it away before it was too late.
"Dream!" He scolded. The taller boy seemed to wake up, shaking his head a little and rubbing his eyes.
"George? What-" he began.
"Come on. You can sleep in my bed with me. I don't want the dead people convincing you to do anything like that ever again," he commanded, dragging Dream upstairs.

He had to admit he didn't mind lying cuddled up to the taller boy, arms wrapped around each other, but he reminded himself again why it was that he couldn't fall in love. It was selfish of him to want someone who was so ruined- besides, if Dream was right and he was destined to die in George's arms if they fell in love, it was better for the both of them to stay as friends. After what he had just seen, he felt very protective over the other boy's life.