The Lost Prince || Dreamnotfound

twelve

Dream stumbles over to George, kneeling beside him. His blood red hands hold George still as he listens to his chest for a heartbeat.

There's a faint sound, but George is alive. Dream breathes a sigh of relief. He's glad he was wrong; the arrow didn't hit his heart. He grabs George's shoulders, shaking him.

George lifts his head for a moment before he lays back down. His breathing is ragged. "Dream," he pants, eyes squeezed shut in pain, "you have to take the arrow out."

"What," Dream replies, hands shaking as his fear grows.

"Snap the arrow in two and pull it out both ways." George's jaw clenches. "Be careful. He barely missed my heart."

"O—okay," he stammers. His hands reach for the arrow's shaft. He snaps it, tossing the end to the ground. "I'm going to have to turn you, okay?"

George nods, his face a deathly white. He hisses in pain as Dream turns him on his side. Dream sees the arrowhead and yanks the other end of the arrow out. George screams before his voice is cut off and he passes out.

Dream lays him back down on his back, hands on George's cheeks. "George?" He whispers, "Are you okay?"

George doesn't respond. Dream looks around, searching for Majka, hoping for help. When his hands leave George's cheeks, there's blood red fingerprints.

"Stay with me," Dream says quietly. His hands shake when he looks at the body of the soldier he killed.

When he looks back at George, his breath catches. A butterfly flies to him, landing on George's forehead. The colorful wings of the tiny creature flap softly.

Somehow, Dream knows it's Majka.

~

George wakes up with a gasp hours later, clutching his chest.

Dream doesn't hear the moment, too focused on his hands, which tremble. His fists clench as he inhales shakily. He looks over to where the soldier he killed lies, but vines have already covered his body, hiding him from the world.

Dream's jaw tightens. He can't believe he killed one of his own soldiers. Treason. The man was only trying to get Dream to safety, but Dream stabbed him with his own dagger.

Dream shuts his eyes and hugs his knees to his chest. He can't hear George approach over the rapid beating of his heart in his chest. A warm hand settles on Dream's arm.

Dream bristles instantly. "Don't touch me."

George hesitates, but he lets go. Softly, he asks, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Dream mutters, opening his eyes to stare at George's feet.

George says nothing for a moment. Then, suddenly he says quietly, "Come on, I know something that will help."

Dream looks up to find George's hand outstretched. With his lips in a thin line, Dream grasps George's hand and stands. "What is it?"

A corner of George's mouth quirks up. "Something special."

~

It's night by the time George takes him to a peaceful place. In front of them stretches a vast lake, dark under the moonlight. It looks like an ordinary lake, but George looks at it with a faint smile.

He takes his boots off and Dream follows suit. The cool sand tickles his toes. Dream tilts his head curiously when George approaches the water. But before he steps in, he waves Dream over.

Dream walks forward, brows furrowed when George crouches down. Dream crouches beside him, mimicking George when he lifts his hand over the water.

Dream sees the blood on his hands and his soft smile vanishes. Desperate to get the stain off him, he places his hands in the water, scrubbing fiercely. His movements stop, though, when the water glows a vibrant blue around his hands.