Homocide Fifty || DNF

31. Realisation

The police officer looks shocked when George and Wilbur enter, one of their hands on either of Punz' wrists. Wilbur gave him propranolol. The drug itself doesn't cause memory loss immediately, but with the right dosis, it can lower his heart rate, making him more relaxed. Over time, it's expected for him to lose the memory of Dream, and in the meantime, he's gonna be too intoxicated to speak up.

"We caught Dream," Punz. We've caught Punz. George says to the police officer. She's got brown hair, slicked back in a ponytail and a blue uniform on. Her eyes widen, her long eyelashes becoming more prominent.

"Wow," she looks baffled, muttering something into her handheld radio. Soon enough, a woman and a man run up besides her, looking taken aback.

"Holy shit," one of them mutters, "we'll take Punz and take care of it from here," the blond woman says, standing next to a grey haired man. He's got a goatee and he looks texan. "It's a pleasure to meet you, George Davidson," she smiles, "you're amazing. Thank you."

All of the killing. The fingerprints, the notes, the disgusting, smelling piles, the stressful nights. It's all over. George sighs contently, looking at the nice woman. He shakes her hand, as well as the others. Wilbur does the same. "Can I get the proof?" She asks. It feels as if she already knows. She already trusts George.

George hands her the proof. She nods, looking at it briefly before looking up again. "It was in his file drawer. In his office building. His real name is Luke," he says, looking at the sleeping Punz slouching in the police officers arms. "You can probably find so much more information if you investigate his entire building. And office. There's probably lots to uncover."

"Thank you. We'll put him in a temporary prison before he has to go through a trial. I'd suggest you two and your closest employees that've been working on the case, attend the trial as well," she nods to herself. George copies, nodding.

"Thank you."

"Of course. Would you like us to keep it confidential until the trials are over?" She asks professionally. Her voice is soft and comforting, making George daze. He figures it doesn't matter, because Tommy, Tubbo and Dream won't take revenge. Not when Dream was able to convince them to go home.

"It doesn't need to stay confidential. Thank you for asking, though," he smiles at her. He looks at Wilbur, "if any interviewers or paparazzi flood the outside of our building, we need to set out more security. But it isn't the worst." Wilbur agrees.

"Thank you again," George says, a big wide smile plastered onto his face. It feels so surreal and bittersweet.

He hears a ding in his pocket. He checks it quickly, skims over it and sees it's Dream. He puts his phone away.

Idiotic Dream.

This adrenaline is a whole third. It's a feeling of freedom. Obviously, he's got many cases to come, but this one in particular, peaked his interest just a tiny bit more than any other case.

The Dream case has put him through many emotions. Sadness, felicity, mournfulness and so much more. But most important of all, he's met someone that makes his world spin in circles. Makes it spin around the sun ten times quicker. When he's with Dream, his whole sense of reality gets warped.

When he's with Dream, the only thing he wants, is be with him. Forever.

He doesn't know what to do. Yes, they've solved the case. It's definitely a sense of closureness. It is. But George can't help but feel like something is missing.

Someone.

Maybe it's the fact that Bad is probably mad at him, maybe it's because he hasn't talked to Karl in days. Quackity. Hannah. Maybe he misses Sylvee, and how she could lift up his mood.