paint splattered scars || dnf

Paint Splattered Scars

Are we ready for the end?

Enjoy!! Vote & comment while you read <3

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"That kid is going to be the death of me" Dream mutters in exasperation.

"You don't even deal with him that often" George says with a smile.

"Yeah, and he still is going to be the death of me! That's like... talent." Dream says. They're on their way back to their house now that they managed to get Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo back to where they were probably meant to be. Dream didn't even want to think about how Tommy's dad was going to deal with all of that— including contacting Tubbo and Ranboo's parents. Dream was almost thankful for a moment that he didn't have to deal with any of that.

Then he remembered how his heart skipped a beat when Phil pulled Tommy into the house and into a hug. He'd been scared for Tommy for a moment. And something about how he expects the worst from any adult in his life... Something about that felt a little fucked up. He thinks about that for awhile longer as they drive.

"You're thinking about Tommy and his family, aren't you" George says quietly. The look in his eyes tells Dream that George was too.

Dream just nods, and there's silence in the car a moment longer before he says anything else. "It fucking sucks, doesn't it? That neither of us have that?"

George shrugs. "I've come to terms with it. I never really had that, so there isn't really anything to miss, you know?" He pauses for a moment. "That sounded really pity inducing, didn't it?"

"Maybe a bit." Dream shrugs, smiling just a bit, but there's still clearly something on his mind. He opens his mouth to speak-- maybe say something more on the matter of Tommy's family or their own families, but he doesn't manage to get a word out before he has to slam on the brakes of the car.

George jerks forward, caught by the safety mechanism in his seatbelt. His eyes go wide in shock, and there's the revving on an engine as it speeds through the intersection in the neighborhood they'd been driving through.

"Are you okay?" Dream asks immediately, turning to look at George. "Your ribs okay?" he asks, casting a nervous glance to where he'd slammed forward into the seatbelt.

George takes a moment, his eyes following the car as it speeds down the road to their left. "I'm okay" he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes dart around silently, searching for something. "He had a stop sign" he comments.

"Yeah."

"And we didn't. He was coming off a side street. What if you hadn't stopped?" His voice is low, but Dream is shocked to see that he looks more angry than scared. "What the fuck? Who the hell drives like that in a residential area at night? Who does that?" He looks to Dream like he wants support in his anger-- like he's making sure that this is okay.

"I don't know, George," Dream says quietly, not really sure how to react to all of this. "You're sure you're okay?" 

George looks at Dream, and the anger in his eyes drains away immediately. He sighs. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"Good." He says quietly, and takes his foot off the break. It doesn't take too long to get back to their street. As they near the house, they can see that it sticks out like a sore thumb amongst all the quiet houses with their lights off on the street.

All of the lights are on, and the front door is open. There are even people sitting in the front yard, and Dream can hear music playing from the living room as they drive up. Something feels wrong, but that could've just been the aftermath of almost getting hit (again).