Who Lies in the End?

Ch 39: 10 "Like is a strong word"

art by: poapolisi

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"Dream?"

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"Dream!"

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"DREAM!"

The harsh sting of his body being slammed against obsidian was enough to drag Dream out of his frantic memories. His breathing was erratic while his heart pounded in his chest. A green glow encompassed his body as the pendant thrummed happily with power. All around the obsidian room, random blocks floated in a green light: endstone, obsidian, purpur blocks, and bedrock spun around in a tempest of emotion.

Frantic grey eyes took in the chaotic sight before jumping to George who was kneeling in front of him. Dark ocher eyes were watching him with a determined expression, but Dream could see the fear and concern lurking beneath the front. His hands were gripping Dream's shoulders hard enough that the pale knuckles turned white.

"Come on Dream, snap out of it," George hissed as he shook Dream's tense body.

Realizing what was happening, Dream shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He focused on calming the Creative Block, killing its power, and returning the blocks from whence they came. After the green glow subsided, all that was left was the pounding of his heart that was still pained with the opened wound.

"Dream?" George's voice was tentative as he watched the blonde.

Dream took a shuttering breath, "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

Dream let out a bitter laugh, "Yeah, yeah, totally fine," there was sarcasm laced in his words.

George glared at him, "I know you're clearly not, I'm just trying to understand the situation."

Dream pushed George's hands off his shoulders, "Not much to say."

"Like hell," George snapped, "That wasn't nothing. Are you going to be okay returning to the End?"

Grey eyes narrowed, insulted, "I'll be fine. It's just some bad memories, okay?"

"Dream-"

"I said I'm fine!" he didn't mean to shout the words, but the harsh tone and bitterness saturated the outburst.

George flinched back at the remark but otherwise didn't say anything. He simply moved away from Dream and sat back beside him, this time keeping some distance between them. They fell silent as the cold obsidian bottled the tense air. George brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, keeping his eyes on Redne. A torrent of emotions of thoughts flickered in those dark eyes, but nothing slipped past his pressed lips.

Dream had his head hung, his hands gripping his hair. His emotions were too close to the surface, too twisted, and he was too irrational to process them properly. So he settled on focusing his thoughts on breathing, hoping that would calm his heart rate. This was one of the times that he was glad to wear the mask.

The Void was still around him. Its cold presence tried to suffocate him in its cold embrace, and all he could feel was his empty palm. Reach, asking, hoping that something would be able to save him, but nothing came.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes became an hour, as the two sat there reflecting the strange event; in the end, it was Dream that broke the silence.

"Look, I'm..." he took another calming breath and released it, "I'm sorry," he finally mumbled.

George refused to look at Dream as he thought on the statement, "There's really not much to be sorry for. I just didn't realize how strong of a memory that was," he turned his head towards Dream, but his eyes lingered on his shoulder, "I'm sorry that happened to you."