What I Meant By Forever

The Visitor

By the end of the month Dream was living with the Davidson's, and George had explained as much as he could to his mother.
"A few months ago he started seeing dead people, but he isn't crazy. I think he has a really terrible anxiety disorder, though, but I know how to calm him down," he had told her. He never told her about the vision, or the kiss- she would never understand.

The longer he spent at George's house the better he seemed to get, and three months onwards George thought he was totally fixed. They went down to the train tracks one night, George drinking coffee and Dream drinking hot chocolate. They sat by the tracks, drinking their respective hot drinks, and Dream told George how much he used to love coming here as a kid.
"Why'd you stop?" He asked. Dream shrugged.
"My parents started fighting more and I stopped coming. I guess I forgot it existed."
George supposed he could understand that, although he'd never really known his dad, who'd died when he was very young. Dream looked out at the train tracks sadly, his blond hair getting paler in the summer months, mesmerising in the moonlight. George loved every inch of him, and in that moment he had never yearned for him more, wishing he could curl up in his arms forever. He snapped himself out of it, remembering his promise not to fall in love. The two had to stay as friends- that's how he thought it had to be.

As all good things do, Dream and George's happiness soon ended. There was a night that changed everything, on June 20th 2021. George never forgot the date, because he never stopped regretting the decision he made that night, and every night afterwards.

Dream was tossing and turning in bed, which woke George up. He tried to wake up the sleeping boy, but to no avail. He shook him and slapped him and poured water on him, but Dream continued to talk in his sleep. Eventually, George gave up and just listened from the floor. He sat watching the sleeping boy and he muttered, looking fairly peaceful despite the nightmare he was obviously having. George didn't think any of what he said in his sleep was going to surprise him, just the occasional "ow, fuck" and "no" but he sharp looked up when he heard his name.
"George." He looked up to see Dream staring at him from the bed, but something was off. He seemed skinnier, paler, and his eyes were glazed over, as if he were...
"You're dead. You're not Dream, you're one of the ghosts he sees, aren't you?" George guessed.
"You're just as smart as I remember. It's good to see you again your highness," he greeted. George scowled.
"I'm not the king you remember. He's been dead for a while- I'm just a high schooler," he frowned. Dream nodded.
"I know. It's still nice for me to see you. You must hate me by now, all of the things he's told you about me," he mused, "like the first night he stayed here. I told him he would die in your arms, and then one of the others put that knife in his hands."
George scowled even more.
"I don't have long, love, but I had to warn you: he is as in love with you as you are with him, and this whole affair will end in tears, just as it always does," he explained. George shook his head defiantly.
"It won't. I promised him."
"I remember. Just don't say I never warned you," the ghost warned, and with that, Dream collapsed.

George woke up on the floor, Dream looking down at him with a confused look on his face.
"Did you fall out of bed?" He puzzled.
"Must have," George shrugged.