Stalker // DNF

33: Fury

'He takes after his dad in that sense, never telling people what he's really thinking,' his mum giggles, continuing to spill random trivia about her son. She turns to smile at George, the alteration in her direction revealing his pale, fearful face, drooping down in his distress.

Her smile vanishes quickly as she truly grasps George's expression.

'Honey, you look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay?'

George hooks onto the bait and ignores the bile gathered in his stomach to force out a full sentence.

'I just - Mum, I need to talk to you, privately,' he nods his head towards the door. 'Can you come outside with me? Please?'

He's hit with instant relief as she nods swiftly and pushes her chair back. George guides her out of the room, grabbing keys as they walk out of the door. He takes in the fresh air and shuts the door immediately, thankful for the blockade between Dream and his parent.

'George, what's wrong? Are you upset with me for talking with Clay?' she worries, extending her hand to rub her son's arm lovingly.

He shakes his head and manages a smile.

'No, you've done nothing wrong, mum. It's just...' He can't bear the thought of returning to the room with his mum on his arm, luring her back into the lion's den.

'Um - Clay came over to talk about something important,' George musters, feeling terrible for lying, but hoping to guide his mother away for her safety. 'Can we catch up another time? I promise I'll visit you more often.'

His mum nods quickly and George's heart aches gratefully at her instant understanding.

'Of course, love.' She leans in for a hug, removing her palm from George's arm to cup his upper back. He squeezes her tightly, resting his head on hers. His mum's comfort melts away the panic that had been building up within him and he wishes he hadn't been such a bad son recently. Smelling the vanilla in her hair reminds him of how he's missed her and the alleviation he'd been desperate for recently.

She pulls back and looks up slyly to say, 'he seems like a very nice boy.'

George opens his mouth to reply, his voice catching as he realises he doesn't know how to form a response.

He swallows and tries a second time.

'He's - he's...' Confusing, sweet, dangerous, kind, evil, observant, obsessive, honest, secretive. How on earth could one ever sum up Dream?

His mum smiles, mistaking George's stammer for fluster.

'I'll leave you two to it, see you soon, sweetheart.'

George watches as she begins to walk towards the road, grateful for her escape. As he stares, he hears movement from inside his apartment, reminding him that there's another task at hand.

This morning had felt like a bucket of ice water continuously being chucked over George, awakening him and his thoughts. He's been reminded of Dream's danger and how his own actions could easily expose his family to the same threat.

This has gone on for long enough.

He swings the key around on his finger and places it in the lock before he pushes his way back in to the slightly warmer environment. Once inside, he sees Dream sat down on the chair his mum had been resting on, his eyes instantly darting to George.

'Is everything okay?' Dream asks, his hands combined to form a ball on the tabletop.

George nudges the door shut and runs a hand through his fringe, his forehead still damp from the sweat that had developed earlier.

'Yeah - my mum... she's gone home,' he mutters, making his way back to the counter.

They're both silent for a beat, no public diversions now available to distract from any tension. He feels Dream watching him and George meets his gaze, squinting his eyes to try and find any of the intimidation that had once made him terrified of the man.

'She seemed very -'

'You had no right to come over and see her, Dream,' George interrupts, finally letting out his fury now the fear had dissolved.

The painter's eyes widen at the sudden raise in sound and intensity. He looks stunned in surprise for a moment, parted lips twitching as he finds his words.

'You think I knew she was here? You think that's why I came over?' He asks in disbelief.

George nods, pushing his tongue into his cheek.

'How would I have ever known?'

'I dunno, Dream. But you have your weird, sick little methods. I'm sure you found a way.'

Dream lets out a surprised choke, his mouth falling slightly open.

'I - I don't know what you're suggesting... but I came here to see you, and you only.'

George scoffs. 'You definitely knew.'

'How would I, George? I only have your webcam! You know this - You fucking turned it on for me to watch you last night!' Dream's voice raises.

George is now the one stunned into silence, the regret returning and painting his cheeks red.

He can't do this, he needs his control back.

'Just leave.'

Dream stands up, his voice returning to its normal volume as he rushes out, 'George - I swear I didn't know.'

'Fine, whatever,' George walks to his door and opens it, gesturing his hand for Dream to get out. 'I believe you... or I don't. I don't know - I need a minute to think.'

Dream stays glued to his spot momentarily before he drags his feet towards the other, the shock on his face merging into desperation and misery.

'George -'

'I'll see you again,' George cuts in, placing a hand on Dream's back to nudge him outside and pushes the door closed behind him.

As soon as he's alone, he doesn't waste any time to rush over to his computer and turn it on, only to catch it already lit up. He kicks himself for having left it on and presses a button on the monitor, powering it on also.

Once the device is ready, he navigates his way to his email, not allowing himself to think. He's afraid he's already allowed his emotions to dominate his actions, therefore he was going to take advantage of this reality-check and do what he should have done a while back.

George opens a new email to his colleague, Kai, remembering how he'd been involved with the cyber-stalking case before. Frantic typing follows as he blurts down how he has a suspect for the cold case and hopes to open it up again. He notes down Dream's address and name in the email, knowing he could find out specifics at the police station's network. He closes the email by saying he'd had an unrecorded confession and hopes this is enough ground to get a search warrant for Dream's flat.

George leans back with shaky hands, either from adrenaline or fright. He knows it's weak evidence, but he doesn't trust himself to continue whatever this was with Dream to get more proof, and not get distracted. He has to draw the line somewhere, it's gone far enough.

He passes a long exhale through pursed lips, his hand returning to the mouse to cling on tightly.

It feels like a betrayal, it feels too official.

But its necessary.

George clicks send, not knowing what will follow. But he understands it's long time for Dream to have justice finally forced upon him.