Homocide Fifty || DNF

24. Stubborn

Karl is the first to notice George. "George?" He says, taken aback. His eyes are wide, a huge smile forming on his face. He jumps out of his chair, running to engulf George in a hug. "How did you- how- oh my god," he breathes.

"I have my tactics," George smiles. His heart shatters when he sees the tears in Karl's eyes. He hugs him tighter, feeling Quackity hug him from behind.

"You're actually here," Bad says from behind them, feet planted to the floor. His mouth is parted as he looks at Hannah who seems to be in her own daze.

This is making his eyes cloudy. He can't cry right now. A few sniffles and a wipe in the left eye stops the tears. He rests his chin atop Karl's head, Karl slouching to rest his head on George's chest. "We missed you so much," he sniffles, looking up.

"Are you hurt?" Bad asks, walking towards him. George disagrees, smiling at him. Bad tucks his hair behind his ears, grinning widely. "You're so brave, George."

George awkwardly nods, not knowing how to thank him for the compliment. He's never been good at that.

"How did you escape? We were literally just talking about how to rescue you," Wilbur asks quietly. By now, they're all huddled in a circle, joy washing over them.

"Long story. Soup basically did it for me," he grins, knowing that it'd confuse the others. "Did you know," he looks at Bad, "the woman I injected the midazolam in, was Foolish's mom?" He raises both brows, waiting for the groups reaction.

"What? Really? Oh my god," Bad smiles widely, "she's okay now, right?" He asks, voice more serious than the prior seconds.

"She's fine. Foolish thought I killed her," he scrunches up his nose.

Karl laughs, a hand covering his mouth, "is he okay? Does he know you didn't?"

"Yeah, he knows. I might've spilled some hot soup directly onto his face, though," George's mouth turns into a thin line, holding back a laughter.

"You're evil," Wilbur laughs, small wrinkles forming around his eyes when they scrunch up.

George feels so happy. So fulfilled. This is what he's been longing for. Friendships that no one can break, no matter what happens. No matter the situation.

Maybe it's the feeling of containment. Maybe it's the fact that his only source of food isn't soup anymore. Maybe it's the fact he showered. He doesn't know which of those has made him so enraptured, but right now, it doesn't matter.

He's in safe hands. With safe people. It's euphoric, really.

"I was actually hoping you'd magically show up soon. My next concert is in two days and I didn't want you to miss this one either," Wilbur twinkles.

George feels a wave of guilt wash over him even though he couldn't help but miss Wilbur's concert. He was literally locked up in an isolated room with nothing but his mind to keep him entertained. "I'll definitely show up to this one," he coyly states.

"You guys have Punz locked up, right?" George raises a brow. He's sure they do.

"Yeah," Wilbur nods, "since I'm your assistant, I've been in charge these past.. 10 days? I think? So I made sure to keep him locked up. None of us have talked to him, we wanted you to."

"Can I talk to him now?"

Everyone looks at him, fearful. "You'd need a bodyguard with you to ensure your safety. Atleast waiting outside the door," Hannah says. George agrees, figuring it's the most responsible thing to do.

"Did you get proof, by the way?" Hannah asks. George nods.

Karl looks at him confused, "then why do you need to talk to him? If you have proof that he's Dream and we've got him right here, right now, why not call the police and lock him up? Once and for all?"